#mat barzal fic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thewintersoldierdisaster · 2 days

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a/n: happy regular season finale! i am first and foremost and islander girly so i’m beyond excited for the boys and ready to get the playoff craziness going 💙🧡 had to write a quick, fun, smutty fic in honor of the clinching! enjoy! ☺️

tw: unprotected sex, creampie, fingering (f receiving), thigh riding, wall sex, praise kink, dirty talk, terrible jokes, minimal editing

word count: 2.7k

summary: mat and the boys clinch a playoff berth in game 81, you celebrate with him when he gets home

It’s so late when Mat gets home from New Jersey, but the both of you are buzzing with the adrenaline of winning and clinching third in the Metro. You’d been too nervous to watch the game with any of the girls, spending the entire sixty minutes of game action jumping around and pacing the den.

Your text thread with Mat after the game was an incomprehensible string of emojis and exclamation points, too excited to form words.

When Mat’s little Find My Friends dot appears in your driveway, you yank the front door open and dance in place on the steps, waiting for him to get out of his car. You can see his huge smile even at a distance.

“Playoffs, baby!” You shout, jumping into Mat’s arms before he even has a chance to step into the house. His arms wrap automatically around your waist, your legs locking together at his lower back. The oversized shirt you’re wearing rides up around your hips, extra fabric bunching up in between your bodies. “I’m so fucking proud of you, Mat!”

You cup his face in your hands, his stubble scratching your palms, and press your mouth to his in a deep kiss. Mat grins under your lips, licking at the seam of them so he can gain entrance to your mouth. He holds you closer, carrying you as he steps inside and kicks the door shut behind him. The fabric of his suit jacket tickles at your bare thighs and you clench your muscles, practically grinding yourself over his stomach. The kiss makes you lightheaded, teeth and tongues and saliva making it messy.

“Fuck,” Mat breaks the kiss with a breathless gasp, hazel eyes blown dark from arousal. You can feel the hard heat of his erection under your ass and grin wickedly, pressing open mouthed kisses against the sharp edge of his jaw and down his neck. “Wish you came, you should’ve come! Playoffs!”

“Playoffs!” You repeat on a delighted laugh, pride swelling in your chest. It hasn’t been the easiest season, a rollercoaster of losses and wins and a new coach, injuries and quite possibly the world’s worst penalty kill, but you’re beyond proud of Mat and the boys and what they’ve accomplished. Your arms tighten around Mat’s neck and you squeeze him in a huge hug. “I am so, so beyond proud of you.”

Mat kisses the corner of your mouth, resting his forehead against yours. His hips twitch up into yours.

“I never had a doubt,” you whisper the praise, enjoying the way Mat’s grip tightens on your hips, the way his chest starts to rise and fall rapidly against yours. Your fingers card through his hair, tugging gently. “My Mat, fighting for every point. You guys accomplished something and now you’re going to have some fun.”

“Better get working on those fancy jackets,” Mat teases, walking forward until your back hits the wall. You grin, intimately familiar with the sly curve of his smirk and the twinkle in his eyes.

“Better get working on that playoff beard,” you tease back, gasping when Mat thrusts his hips up into yours, your panties immediately soaked from the hard press of his cock against your core. You whine and dig your nails into his scalp.

Mat nips at your jaw. “Yeah? You like the beard?” He keeps you pinned against the wall, his pelvis pressed into yours, hands gripping tightly to your ass.

You whine again, nodding. “Wanna feel it between my thighs again,” you gasp, his teeth sharp against your pulse point. “C’mon, Mat, fuck me against the wall.”

He laughs, the sound vibrating against your chest, and hikes his leg up so his thigh is pressed solidly against your cunt, thick muscle the prefect spot for you to rub your aching, throbbing clit against. Your head thunks back against the wall as you grind over him as best you can while being held up by one of Mat’s hands and his leg.

“There you go, baby,” Mat murmurs, using his other hand to make quick work of his belt buckle. The mental clinks together and you hear the zipper of his slacks slide down. “Soak my pants, come on. Look so pretty trying to make yourself come.”

The fabric of his pants and the thin, soaked cotton of your panties create a delicious friction against your clit. Your stomach tightens and your thighs tremble.

Mat bounces his leg a little and you gasp, grabbing onto his shoulders for support. He grins and you look down to see him fist his cock out of his boxer-briefs, the swollen tip of him leaking pre-cum all over his fingers. Your cunt clenches around nothing, a rush of arousal slicking down your thighs.

“Mat, please, oh my god,” you babble, desperate for him. You need something, anything, to relieve the pressure building between your legs.

“Be patient, Squeaks,” Mat smirks, his hand gliding easily up and down his length. His knuckles press against your lower stomach on each upstroke, pre-cum staining the hem of your shirt. “Had to wait eighty one games to clinch, you can wait a few more minutes.”

He hoists you a little higher on the wall, his forearm braced under your ass, both feet back on the floor, and you whimper at the loss of his thigh between your legs.

“Just wanna feel you,” you drop your head to the join of his neck and shoulder, brushing your lips over the exposed skin of his collarbone. You’re glad he ditched his tie, a whore for the sight of his collarbone through the unbuttoned oxford shirt.

“Reach down and hold your panties to the side,” Mat orders and you comply quickly, reaching a shaky hand down to pull the soaked fabric away from your cunt. The elastic bites into your skin and the tip of Mat’s cock is pressed against your damp skin. You jolt in his grip, a choked gasp working past your lips. “There we go,” he coos, “good girl.”

“Fuck,” you mutter, your entire body growing hot at his praise, the tip of Mat’s cock circling your clit and sending electric shocks down your spine. “Please, please, oh my god,” you babble, chanting his name until Mat sucks a mark against your neck, lining the head of his cock up at your soaked entrance.

His hand keeps a tight grip on the base of his cock and you’re barely ready when he pushes into you, feeding his cock into your cunt inch by inch. “There we go, come on, baby,” he mutters, breathless. “Can take all of me, my good girl. My best girl.”

You slide your fingers over to play with your clit, rubbing the sensitive bundle until arousal is dripping down Mat’s cock. He grunts in your ear, bottoming out, his hips locked against yours. The zipper on his slacks rubs painfully against your inner thighs, his belt buckle smacking against your hip.

“Oh my god,” you exhale harshly, clenching experimentally around Mat, savoring the ground out curse and groan that he can’t hold back. “Mat, baby, please move. Please,” you beg, panting just from the feeling of him filling you up and stretching you out. The burn of the stretch borders right on painful pleasure and you suck in a shaky breath.

He’s got both hands gripping your ass now, fingers digging bruises into your skin. “Gonna move, gotta move, so fucking tight for me,” Mat groans, a bead of sweat rolling down his temple. There’s barely any room between your bodies, heat pouring off of the both of you. Mat pumps his hips, bucking them slowly at first, enough to get a whine clawing out of your throat, enough to get the coil of pleasure tightening in your stomach.

His hips slap against yours with his thrusts, short, sharp bursts that keep his cock bumping up against your g-spot. Your clit rubs against the hair at the base of his cock and tears roll down your cheeks from the stimulation.

You chant Mat’s name, murmuring broken praise for his game play, begging him to fuck you harder. “Wanna feel you come in me,” you wail, one hand grasping his shoulder and the other buried deep in his hair.

Mat bites little marks against your neck and collarbone, sliding your body up the wall with the force of his thrusts. “Gonna give you everything, baby, promise. Every drop, deserve it, earned it,” he says, barely coherent. “Love you, supported me all season, fuck, baby, come on my cock.”

He thrusts up into you and you clench around him, clit throbbing and cunt squeezing him until the coil snaps in your stomach, your orgasm hitting like a freight train. You moan wildly, too far gone to worry about how pathetically loud you’re being. Mat grunts in your ear, fingers squeezing your ass painfully. He keeps you on his cock, buried as deep into you as he can be, still trying to get deeper by pulling your ass closer.

Mat keeps thrusting up into you as you’re coming down from your orgasm, grunting against your collarbone, and you stroke his hair, encouraging him to come inside of you. “Come on, Mat, finish in me, please. Want you to fill me, so proud of you,” you’re barely aware of what you’re saying, but Mat seems to hear you and if isn’t long before he’s groaning into your skin, filling you with ropes of cum, keeping you held in place on his cock.

He shivers when he’s finished, cock softening inside of you, and you let one leg fall to the ground, keeping the other hooked over his hip. “Jesus,” you giggle, thighs shaking and core burning from helping to keep yourself upright. “Good thing you’re off tomorrow,” your smile, tired as it is, turns a little wicked, “because I really do not want to leave you or the bed.”

Mat rewards you with a sleepy smile and a sweet kiss to your forehead. You wince as his cock slips out of your cunt, smearing cum all over your inner thighs. “Tomorrow’s definitely a day for naked celebrations,” he laughs quietly. You can see that the adrenaline of the game and the sex is wearing off and his eyelids are starting to look heavy. He gives the underside of your thigh a gentle squeeze.

“Why don’t you go shower and change,” you suggest, smoothing your hands over the crumpled fabric of his suit jacket. “I’ll bring you up a snack and we can get some sleep.”

“Rather shower with you and eat you out,” Mat mumbles, letting your other leg fall to the floor but keeping you pinned to the wall. He rolls his hips lazily against your thigh. You can feel every inch of him and you’re not sure if he’s hardening again or if he’s still coming down from his orgasm. “We clinched, I should get to decide what we do.”

You burrow your face against his chest, the warmth of Mat’s body surrounding you while your arms snake around his waist, under his jacket. “If you’re this demanding when you clinch, I can’t wait to see how bossy you’ll be when you win,” you say cheekily.

Mat’s hand slips between your bodies to tuck his cock back into his pants and you press closer to him, trapping his hand between your stomach and his, making him laugh a little. He wiggles his fingers against your stomach playfully. “When we win the Cup,” he says, quietly but sincerely, “I’m going to fuck you until neither one of us can walk.”

Arousal pools low in your stomach again, your thighs clenching together. “Oh,” you murmur, “I’ll start manifesting from now then.”

Mat’s hand, still trapped between your bodies, works its way down over your stomach, fingertips close to where you want them. But not close enough.

You let out a soft little whine, poking your lower lip out in a pout that makes Mat laugh and duck his head to kiss you. He sucks your lower lip into his mouth and brushes his fingers even lower, your hips pushing up to try and slide his hand down.

You’re not quite tired anymore, frissions of lust sparking in your veins.

“You’re adorable,” he says, nipping gently at your lower lip. You wriggle against him, getting worked up again just from Mat’s proximity. The heel of his palm rubs against your lower stomach, the wide span of his hand stoking heat between your thighs.

“Imagine,” you breathe, “how adorable I could be on my back, moaning your name.”

A gasp punches out of your lungs when Mat’s fingers finally slide home, curling up into your cunt with a wet squelch, his cum leaking out of you and around his fingers into your panties. You clench around his fingers and let your head fall back against the wall while Mat’s fingers work you over.

“I love when you dirty talk me,” Mat props his free hand on the wall next you your head, his suit jacket opening and forming a curtain next to you. His head falls forward and he watches his hand disappear under the hem of your oversized shirt. “Pull your shirt up, baby, I want to see how you’re dripping down my hand.”

Your hand shakes a little as you lift the hem of your shirt up and hold it just at your belly button, Mat’s hand is down the front of your panties, stretching the fabric as he moves his wrist and fingers. Arousal drips down your thighs and your knees are threatening to give out as your second orgasm builds quickly. His name falls from your lips like a prayer and Mat’s pace never wavers, his gaze trained on the way his hand disappears between your legs.

With a twist of his wrist and a curl of his fingers, Mat presses the pads of his middle and ring fingers against your g-spot and the coil snaps again, your entire body going taut with the force of your orgasm and then boneless as you soak his hand and your thighs. Your knees buckle and Mat catches you, kissing your neck softly as he guides you through the aftershocks.

“You are aggressively good with those fingers,” you murmur, breathless.

“Gotta keep them warm for the playoffs,” he teases, pulling his hand away from you slowly. You wince at the sudden emptiness, cunt fluttering around nothing.

A smile plays at your lips and you fight it, trying to resist the urge to make the innuendo. A little puff of air escapes your nose as you try not to laugh and Mat pulls back, squinting at you, “what’s with the look?”

You shake your head, rolling your lips together to smother the worst of your laughter. “Nothing, I just…can we go upstairs so you can practice your stick handling?” The laugh you’d been holding back is finally released and you can’t stop your giggles.

Mat stares at you for a heartbeat, your laughter filling the silence, before his face cracks into a smile and his laughter joins yours. “Shit, you’re the worst,” he grins, shaking his head with an affectionate look on his face.

“I couldn’t help it!” You defend yourself, holding up your hands in surrender, your shirt falling back into place.

Still laughing, Mat leans in and kisses each of your palms. You curl your hands around his cheeks and squish them a little, forcing his lips into a pout for you to kiss. When you do, Mat pokes his tongue out, licking your upper lip.

“So….” you drag out the syllable, giggling and looking up at Mat with wide eyes, “is that a yes?”

Mat hoists you up into the air, hands under your thighs, and your squeal, legs wrapping around his waist instinctively. His smile is hungry and you know it’s not just for you, with the clinching fresh Mat’s mind is going a mile a minute thinking about the cup run.

“If you’re good, Squeaks,” Mat says, heading for the stairs, bouncing you a little in his grip, “I’ll let you do your own stick handling.”

You laugh until Mat makes you moan his name again.

#mat barzal #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal fic #mat barzal x you #nhl fic

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goodnightoilcountry · 2 days

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Fic Rec List

hi - welcome to my attempt at being a fic writer again. i have a wip list in the works but first things first: my fic rec list of all the works i've found and adored.

if you don't know yet, you will know soon that i am such a sucker for angst. i hope you find something new to love from the list below !

i will aim to update this weekly with new additions have NEW tagged next to it. additionally, if any fics become archived / deleted i will also tag it as such.

p.s. all summaries have been written by the authors themselves.

* updated thursday 18 april 2024 *

like my selection of fic recs? have a player who's not been featured? let me know and i'll go on a deep dive for you!

ANAHEIM DUCKS

better man (trevor zegras) by @starry-hughes summary: even though trevor wasn't good for you, you can't help but miss him sometimes.

hard to forget (trevor zegras) by @hockey-fics summary: you had a history with trevor but it was a history you had worked hard to forget. but forgetting it becomes even harder when a new person finds their way into the middle. word count: 11.8k

something about the sunshine (trevor zegras) by @huggybug word count: 3k

last night in anaheim (trevor zegras) by @itsjusthockey word count: 2.3k

CAROLINA CANES

do i really have to tell you (brady skjei) by @senditcolton summary: do i really have to chart the constellations in his eyes? do i really have to tell you how he brought me back to life? word count: 6.7k

this is how it ends (sebastian aho) by @silverstonesainz-archive summary: not every chapter ends in happily every after word count: 6.4k

i could love you with my eyes closed (sebastian aho) by @matthewtkachuk summary: sebastian doesn't like your boyfriend - he's forgetful, stands you up, and doesn't know a thing about you. When will you see that he's the right guy to figure you out? word count: 4k

finish line (sebastian aho) by @silverstonesainz-archive summary: a resolution where all parties are happy. word count: 4.1k

lover boy (seth jarvis) by @sydnikov summary: hockey is a violent sport, one based on luck yet also talent, and most never escape unscathed. you learned that lesson too early, and haven't quite been the same ever since. then seth jarvis comes along, tearing down your hardened walls with ease, and, suddenly… you don't feel so alone anymore. word count: 9.7k

being bold (seth jarvis) by @sydnikov summary: seth has a crush on you. a bad one, and he makes it very obvious throughout the years he’s known you, though you’ve still never taken him seriously because of his immaturity and energetic personality. much to his chagrin, you keep denying him—until one night, scorned by thoughts of your most recent ex who never knew how to touch you right, you give in to seth’s advances. word count: 7.4k

9PM in Vancouver (andrei svechnikov) by @thewintersoldierdisaster summary: on a mini trip to vancouver to watch andrei play, you suffer the worst loss of your life. andrei is your rock throughout the ordeal word count: 7k

in five (andrei svechnikov) by @sydnikov summary: something hurt/comfort where the reader is comforting svech when he finds out he has have to surgery, and helping him through the recovery process. word count: 6.7k

COLORADO AVS

summers back home (nathan mackinnon) by @happer08

crushes with beefcake (nathan mackinnon) by @ohmyeyesmyeyes summary: josh has some questions and nate jumps at the opportunity to tell a little story of his own word count: 5.9k

i didn't have it in myself to go with grace (nathan mackinnon) by @mattyanonwrites summary: y/n & nate have been fighting for weeks, will they survive the great war or will they bury their love in a shallow grave? word count: +2.4k

monday morning (nathan mackinnon) by @matthewtkachuk summary: the boys win the Stanley Cup and you end up in bed with one of them word count: 1.2k

colorado (for the first time) (nathan mackinnon) by @withwritersblock summary: Y/N returns to Denver after her breakup with Nate word count: 3.9k

FLORIDA PANTHERS

subtle (matthew tkachuk) by @hockey-hoe-24-7 word count: 3.1k

you say you hate me (matthew tkachuk) by @pucksnsticksnhockeyboys summary: four times you were forced to spend time with Matthew plus one time you chose to. word count: 7.2k

all for you (4 times you tried to tell Brady you loved him, and one time matty did it for you): pt 1, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4 & pt 5 (matthew tkachuk) by @comphersjost summary: finally fed up with pining over your best friend from afar, you enlist the help of matthew to help you get the guy - you’re just not really sure who the guy is anymore. or: 4 times you tried to tell brady you loved him, and the one time matty told him for you.

4 times you fake a relationship + 1 time you didn't (matthew tkachuk) by @hockeywhy word count: 17.2k

4 times you didn;t find the one + 1 time you did (matthew tkachuk) by @hockeywhy summary: 11.3k

homecoming (matthew tkachuk) by @doc-pickles summary: five times matthew came home to you from a roadie

NEW JERSEY DEVS

gin, tonic, and tequila shots (jack hughes) by @hockey-fics summary: you really didn’t think you could expect much from a relationship that started with nothing more than hooking up. but as the occurrences become more and more frequent your feelings become more and more involved in something that you were sure could only end in heartbreak. word count: 5.5k

stay the night (jack hughes) by @eyesthatroll summary: loosely based of of this prompt: "one character thinks their relationship is a fling, the other thinks its destiny" but not really because i kind of strayed away from that completely. word count: 1k

everybody wants you, but i don't like a gold rush (jack hughes) by @sunkissed-zegras summary: y/n had always been in love with jack since she was a kid, but he had always chosen everyone else but her. word count: 10.7k

invisible string (luke hughes) by @hugshughes summary: luke had been one of your closest friends since childhood. somehow, everything in both of your lives just came back to each other. word count: 3.8k

tidal wave (luke hughes) by @babydollmarauders summary: in which Mark’s girlfriend and his best friend have a secret. word count: 6.6k

drops of jupiter: pt 1 & pt 2 (jack hughes) by @youunravelme summary: being friends with your ex wasn’t the dumbest thing you’ve ever done, breaking up with him took that slot.

breakable heaven series: pt 1, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4 & pt 5 (jack hughes) by @chewingcyanide summary: a summer getaway to the coast unravels more secrets than you’re comfortable sharing; namely, the love you’ve harbored for your best friend’s older brother for nearly five years. based loosely on cruel summer by taylor swift.

hey, i can be your boyfriend (nico hischier) by @theemporium summary: when in desperate need for a date to your friend's wedding, the last person you expected to step up was nico hischier. then again, he didn't step up as much as he was thrown into the mess by jack. word count: 11.6k

second best (jack hughes) by @chewingcyanideA summary: secretly pining over someone is never fun—even less so when they’re your childhood best friend, and dating someone else.

my heart's racing, and it isn't the exercise (luke hughes) by @sunnyskiesscareme summary: luke hughes has a gym crush, and his brother wants a sister in law

head start (jack hughes) by @youunravelme summary: you’ve had a crush on the middle hughes brother for as long as you can remember. and really, why wouldn’t you? he’s everything. so why would he ever fall for you?

first rule of fight club (jack hughes) by @thatintrovertedwriter summary: what's the number one rule when playing on a sports team? don't fall for your teammate's sister. has jack hughes ever been good at following rules? no, no he has not.

valentines (nico hischier) by @hischierdevils summary: nico questions your relationship on valentine’s day word count: 1.3k

reaching out (jack hughes) by @bedsyandco summary: 3 times jack wanted to reach out after the breakup + 1 time he did word count: 1.16k

clumsy (jack hughes) by @babydollmarauders summary: quinn and luke realize how clumsy y/n is after noticing how often jack unconsciously keeps her from harm

a walk down memory lane (jack hughes) by @letsgetrowdy43 summary: jack having to witness the love of his life getting engaged

lover of mine (nico hischier) by @ohmyeyesmyeyes word count: 21k

you're not the one (nico hischier) by @ladylooch summary: what if you and Nico met in NYC through friends in common since you have a very nice job there, and after spending a lot of time together and being flirty Nico asks you to be his gf but you say no, not because you don’t like him but because he is a pro athlete, and that doesn’t mean he’ll cheat but the fact that he’ll have to be away almost all of the time. word count: 3.7k

moth to a flame (jack hughes & trevor zegras) by @itsjusthockey word count: 2.9k

when the party's finally over: pt 1 & pt2 (jack hughes) by @itsjusthockey

NEW YORK ISLANDERS

five times everyone knew mat loved you & the one time mat realized himself (mathew barzal) by @idontgiveaflyinggrayson69 word count: 11.8k

bad luck charm (mathew barzal) by @matwith1t summary: the four times you watch mat lose a hockey game, and the one time you watch him win // 4+1 word count: 11.3k

show you (mathew barzal) by @islesnucks summary: after hearing something he shouldn't have Mat is set on proving he is serious about dating you word count: 7.2k

to all the girls you've loved before: pt 1, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5, pt 6 (mathew barzal) by @youunravelme summary: being a nanny for rich people was probably the worst thing that ever happened to you, until you started working for mat.

the word wing-woman (mathew barzal) by @youunravelme summary: you've been in love with mat barzal for as long as you can remember, so what do you do when he asks for your help to win over your friend?

this is how you fall in love (mathew barzal) by @youunravelme summary: when confronted with the idea of going home without a date, you lie and say you have a boyfriend. which would be fine, except you haven't dated anyone seriously in a year. so instead of facing the ridicule of your family, you ask mat. word count: 18.9k

it's nice to have a friend (mathew barzal) by @youunravelme summary: wherever mat went, you were never too far behind or the one where you are childhood besties

we've come so far baby (mathew barzal) by @mendeshoney word count: 15.4k

TORONTO MAPLE LEAFS

cause i'm not ready (auston matthews) by @misshoneyimhome summary: jealous!auston; Austonxreader;

3 times people asked you if you an auston were together + 1 time you finally are? (auston matthews) by @bedsyandco word count: 1.2k

we're parents? like actually parents? (auston matthews) by @austonwithan-o

moth to a flame (auston matthews ft mitch marner) by @marnerparty

VANCOUVER CANUCKS

lucky (quinn hughes) by @43-hugs summary: in which quinn counts his lucky stars. word count: 20k

4 times everyone else caught on before the 1 time you and quinn finally did (quinn hughes) by @mrsensitive summary: a good old 4+1 ft. best friend beau & a couple other cameos, some mutual pining and also reader is a costume designer.

5 times Quinn wanted to kiss you + 1 time he finally did (quinn hughes) by @bedsyandco

friend's don't (quinn highes) by @hischierdevils summary: everyone can see that you and quinn are more than friends. everyone except the two of you. word count: 2.4k

third time's the charm (quinn hughes) by @thatintrovertedwriter summary: in which quinn hates parties, yet keeps throwing them in hopes you'll show up.

fearless (quinn hughes) by @theemporium summary: the five times you tried to deny it, and the one time you and quinn gave into the bond pulling you together word count: 8.3k

plus one (quinn hughes) by @bagopucks word count: 4.6k

growing up is (quinn hughes) by @adoristsposts summary: in which quinn has a hard time coming to terms with the road your relationship has taken

178 notes · View notes

theemporium · 1 month

Note

please im begging... thigh riding mat barzal smut.... please

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

“Shit, baby, I gotta leave soon.”

“No, you don’t,” you mumbled defiantly, your fingers curled in his hair to tug his head back as your lips trace over his pulse point. “You have ages.”

“I still need to get ready,” Mat murmured, but it was half-hearted at best. His hands were gripping your hips, his body sinking back into the couch as you continued to kiss along his neck. “The boys are gonna give me shit if I’m late again—”

“Tragic,” you retorted, though he could feel your smile pressed against him.

“Baby,” Mat groaned before he ducked his head down, until his lips found yours again. “You’re a menace.”

You pulled back, your hands dropping to rest on his chest. “Sorry for wanting to spend some time with my boyfriend after he’s been away for a week,” you grumbled but the smile remained on your face. “I think I need to have a word with the coaching team. It’s not fair that you have morning skate when you just came back from a roadie.”

Mat raised his brows, amused. “Not fair for who?”

“For your lonely and neglected girlfriend,” you retorted.

Mat snorted. “My poor girl.”

Your eyes narrowed. “Don’t mock me.”

“Never,” he grinned before he leaned back up to kiss you again. “Need some lovin’?”

“Don’t say it like that,” you muttered but you leaned into the kiss, your nails lightly scratching his chest over the material of his shirt. “Makes me sound needy.”

“You are needy,” Mat countered, lightly pinching your hip. “And I love it.”

“Then do something about it,” you retorted, hips rolling down to feel the bulge in his sweatpants. “Mat, baby, please…”

Mat groaned, gripping your hips to stay still despite every cell in his body wanting to do the opposite. “Baby, I can’t.”

You huffed, your hands on his chest as you moved to climb off his lap.

“Hey, hey,” Mat murmured as he pulled you back down, your chests pressed together. “I said I can’t. I didn’t say you couldn’t.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion. “Mat, that doesn’t make any sense—”

“Gonna make you feel good, baby,” he murmured, lifting you up enough so you were shifted off his lap and left straddling one of his legs instead.

Your cheeks warmed at his insinuation. “Mat—”

“C’mon, I gotta leave soon,” Mat muttered against your lips as his hands squeezed your hips. “Want my pretty girl to ride my thigh before I go.”

Your brain short circuited for a small moment.

“S’hot, babe,” Mat continued like his suggestion hadn’t completely melted your insides and washed away any coherent thoughts with it. “Pretty sure I remember you said you wanted to try it back at All-Stars—”

“I was drunk,” you defended, but your body flushed at the reminder. “And it wasn’t my fault you had your thighs out like a slut.”

He grinned. “They are all yours, baby, use them as you please.”

Your breath hitched a little. “I don’t know…”

“Shhh, just relax f’me,” Mat whispered, leaning up to kiss you again.

You sunk into his embrace, letting the whirling thoughts in your mind come to a halting stop as his tongue swiped along your lower lip before deepening the kiss. His hands gave your hips another squeeze before he started guiding, slowly rocking you back and forth until your body was moving on it’s own accord.

“Just like that, baby,” he praised, his forehead pressed against yours as your soft pants brushed along his lips. “That’s my pretty girl. Looking so fucking good riding my thigh like that. You look so gorgeous when you use me, baby.”

Your face flushed, a pathetic whine leaving your lips. “Mat—”

“C’mon, baby,” Mat cooed, his thumbs dipping under the hem of your shirt to swipe along your heated skin. “Give me something to think about during practice.”

#mat barzal #nhl #new york islanders #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal x you #mat barzal x y/n #mat barzal fic #mat barzal oneshot #mat barzal smut #nhl x reader #nhl x you #nhl x y/n #nhl fic #nhl one shot #nhl smut

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islesnucks · 2 months

Text

𝓿𝓸𝓲𝓬𝓮𝓶𝓪𝓲𝓵 - Mathew Barzal x Reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mat.” you picked up.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you, Maty.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

NYI vs. TBL - November 5th

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

NYI vs. CGY - November 7th

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

NYI vs. SEA - November 9th

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

NYI vs. VAN - November 11th

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

NYI vs. NYR - November 16th

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

NYI vs. PIT - November 18th

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

NYI vs. DET - November 20th

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

NYI vs. DAL - November 23th

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

NYI vs. STL - November 26th

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

NYI vs. CHI - November 28th

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

NYI vs. NYR - November 30th

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

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

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

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

“Hello?”

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

“Mat? What are you doing here?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Other problems are gonna come up.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I love you.” you finally whispered.

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

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

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

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

NYI vs. MTL - December 1st

“Hey! Good luck tonight babe-”

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

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

“I love you too.”

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

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

taglist:

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

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barzysunflower · 3 months

Note

So y/n goes to this game like always everyone knows she’s barzal wife or girlfriend when the fight happens something snaps and she’s like yelling acting like there gonna hear her saying “HEY THATS MY MAN DONT TOUCH HIM LIKE THAT” people are recording her or she lands on the jumbo screen and the guys saying there’s go barzal gf or wife love to see this. They both end up going viral on Twitter mat was over the fight but y/n still was mad and going on and on saying wtf I would of squashed him if I was right there because no one grabs my man like that 😤 mat finds it entertaining because he’s never seen her this worked up and he’s kinda turned on by it knowing she would fight for him LOL even tho he wouldn’t allow it but he ends up kissing her by how in love he is with her maybe gets alittle smutty

now that fight last night was quite something and god Mathew I want you to do it again! but not too often, I need you to keep looking pretty.

wc: 820

cw: alludes to sex, but not really smut (sorry I’m working on other smut rn haha and didn’t have much time to write today)

gif made by @pyotrkochetkov

You turned around from the conversation you were having with a friend to see Mat finally come out of the locker room area. When he was close enough, you could see there was a big red bruise coating his nose and part of his cheek from the fight he was in earlier. “Aw, baby, are you ok?”

“Perfectly fine.” His smile was sweet and crooked as he wrapped his arms around you. Your lips brushed gently against his bruised skin then finally landed on his lips.

Once you were sure he was fine, you pulled apart and playfully punched him in the chest. “What the hell were you thinking? Fighting? Maty! You know my rule, no teeth, no wedding.”

He laughed. “I know your absolutely ridiculously absurd rule. Don’t worry, I’ll have all of my teeth for the big day.” He kissed the top of your head, still getting excited at the mention of your wedding even after months of being engaged and it being pretty much all planned already. “And he attacked me. I wasn’t about the back down. I’m not scared of a little fight.”

A rush of heat flowed through you, seeing him get worked up again. And you had to admit, as much as you hated the fighting aspect of hockey, it was kind of hot seeing Mat defend himself and get into a little brawl.

“And it looks like you’re not as mad as you’re pretending to be.” He totally picked up on your vibes.

“Alright, so maybe it was a little hot to watch,” you admitted. “But don’t make it a regular thing.”

“Sure about that?” His eyebrows raised and a little mischievous grin appeared as he pulled you closer to him by your hips.

“At least not until after the wedding. I need you looking pretty for the pictures.”

“Alright, no more fights until the wedding.”

———

“Ok, so maybe I will keep up the fights if you’re going to be this turned on afterwards,” Mat mumbled out of breath when you rolled off him, back onto the mattress.

“You made a promise,” you responded, yelping when his lips were back on your skin in seconds. His teeth graded your neck, down your naked chest.

“It’s very hard to resist.” He came back up to kiss you passionately. You had lost count of the amount of times you had sex within the last few hours of coming home from the game, sleeping, and waking up to more sex.

“Alright, get off me I’m starving.” He fell back into the pillows with a laugh, but instead of getting up to go to the kitchen, you grabbed your phone for your daily morning phone time. Mat did the same.

To your surprise, there were a ton of notifications. Texts, instagram, twitter, etc. And also from people you didn’t even know. A quick investigation told you that you were in fact the reason for all the fuss.

“You seen this?” Mat had the same expression on his face, as he was looking through the exact same type of notifications. People sending a video of you from the game last night, yelling during Mat’s fight. The person who filmed it was too far away to pick up audio, but based on reading your lips, people could tell you were yelling something the lines of ‘HEY THATS MY MAN DONT TOUCH HIM LIKE THAT’.

You looked to Mat for his reaction, but he was just laying there, naked, watching the video over and over again, his jaw slowly dropping. You watched him nervously, internally cringing that a video of you like that was currently trending. Mat finally faced you.

“My girl.” He laughed and was back on top of you in seconds. “My feisty girl. And here I thought you were upset I was fighting, but you would have easily stepped in.”

“I was just trying to protect your pretty face.” He smiled wide and started attacking you with kisses, sucking and biting your skin.

“I had no idea you could get so worked up.”

“I’ve been hanging around you for too long.” He chuckled and kissed you deeply. You could never get enough of him.

“Protecting me. I’m supposed to be the one protecting you.”

“You clearly need it.” You loved teasing him, especially since his kisses got more intense the longer it went on.

“I’m pretty sure I won that fight last night, so I can protect myself.” He got on his knees and his lips wandered down your body. One of his hands grabbed your breast, massaging it, while his lips started assaulting the other. He licked around your nipple, sucking and biting it playfully. “But my job is to take care of you.”

He moved further down the mattress, getting ahold of your thighs and roughly pulling them apart. “Now be a good girl and let me do my job.”

#mat barzal #mathew barzal #mat barzal fic #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal blurb #nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl blurb #hockey fics #hockey imagine #nhl smut #smut #hockey smut

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drewsbuzzcut · 5 days

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

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gisellaswrld · 5 months

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overwhelming how much i am grateful; you are her own.

mb13 | mat requests that you and your daughter attend the home game for your daughters 4th birthday. somehow, mat conjures up the best birthday present for your daughter.

If you asked Amelia what she wanted for her birthday, it was to watch Mat play hockey. Not toys or books, she wanted to watch Mat play hockey. Amelia had watched him play on TV and always requested to go see him play in person.

The only thing keeping her from watching in person was you.

You and Mat had been dating for around a year by this point. A year filled with laughter and love. You appreciated the true feelings that were built in the relationship. The only thing that had not happened was you and Mat going public. Of course, it wasn’t that big of a deal. On social media, Mat was popular with the ladies. The thought of getting hateful messages from the media was lingering in your head.

But frankly, how could you say no to your daughter’s only birthday request?

You had met some of Mat’s friends before, along with their wives. In general, they were so kind to you. When some of the wags found out you were attending a game, they were ecstatic. They had invited you to join them to the pregame get together. Of course, you accepted.

“Are you gonna cheer me on, Milly?” Mat asked, grabbing his jacket from where it was hanging.

Amelia had a bright smile on her face, digging her fork into the cake you had made. “Yes!” She replied, food falling out of her mouth.

“Don’t talk with food in your mouth,” You reminded, leaning against the lip of the counter.

“It’s my birthday, don't get mad at me.” Amelia shook her finger at you, sassiness filling her tone.

Mat disappeared back into his bedroom, coming back with a box in his hands. You furrowed your brows, curious what was in the box. Amelia had already opened all her presents from you and Mat. So this last box raised some confusion in your brain.

“What’s this?” Amelia asked, pushing the plate forward towards you.

“Open it,” Mat stated, his eyes flickering between you and Amelia.

Amelia ripped open the box, staring at the blue and orange jersey in the box. Amelia pulled the item of clothing out. It was an Islanders jersey, on the back Barzal was etched into the fabric.

“It’s just like yours!” Amelia looked up to Mat with bright eyes. “Mommy, look! It’s just like dads!”

“It is!” You watched as your daughter excitedly laid the jersey out on the table.

Amelia looked so happy while staring at the jersey. You noticed it immediately. It was such a hearty feeling to see Amelia joyous over a hockey jersey.

“Thank you! ThankyouThankyouThankyou!” Amelia looked at Mat, holding her arms out to him.

Mat catched the hint, pulling the small girl out of the chair. Amelia tightly wrapped her arms around his neck, giddy of delight. Mat held the girl in his arms, placing a kiss to her head.

“You’re welcome,” Mat replied, putting her down on the ground. “I’ve got to go, you are meeting up with the other girls, right?” Mat asked, walking over to you.

“Yes, I am. Good luck, alright?” You smiled.

“I will-”

“Matty, you better play good! If you don’t, you won’t play with dolls with me for a week!” Amelia sternly told him, a serious look on her face.

“I will, Milly. Don’t you worry.” Mat replied, turning his attention back to you.

He placed a quick kiss on your lips before rushing out the door. Amelia had the jersey clutched in her hands, starting to dance around the kitchen of Mat’s house. You were watching her as you cleaned up her mess of cake. Amelia was continuously chanting, “I’m gonna be just like dad.” while parading around the room.

You quickly learned of her new name for Mat, still not necessarily knowing when it started. You just woke up one morning and heard Amelia call Mat ‘dad’. You were shocked, to say the least. More than shocked, you were thankful. It made you think of all the things that Mat had done to help you and Amelia.

It made you feel loved, finally learning what it was like to be treated well by a man. A lot of your previous insecurities fleeted away after Amelia called Mat dad. The insecurities being replaced by love and safety.

The other girls were piled into two cars, Amelia (unsafely) sitting on your lap. Emma, Anthony’s wife, was seated next to you. Emma was the WAG you were exceptionally close to. This was due to the fact that Anthony and Mat were close as well. You met Emma before any of the other wives and girlfriends.

Emma was sweet and babysat Amelia a handful of times.

“We should get there when warm ups are starting, so we will go down to the boards first.” Emma informed the group of girls.

“I swear if they lose today, I will lose my mind. I’m tired of Adam coming home in a crappy mood.” Jen complained, physically face palming.

“Mat’s team better not lose.” Amelia grumbled, looking up at the girls. “Not on my birthday.”

The girls laughed. “I’m sure they will play better just for you, princess.” Jen smiled, patting Amelia’s head.

Once parked and inside, the arena was filled with fans. The Islanders were playing the Capitals tonight, Mat was sure they’d win. Jen led the girls to security, which led to them getting ushered down to the boards to avoid the crowd. Amelia clutched onto you tightly, nervous from the large number of people.

Amelia wore the jersey Mat gave her, a black long sleeve underneath to combat the cold. Amelia told everyone in the group about the jersey, always bringing it up. She was the top entertainment of the night for the group.

You stood next to Jen, who pointed out where Anthony and Mat were. Amelia squealed, placing her hand against the glass.

“There! Momma, there’s daddy!” Amelia cheered, pointing at Mat across the ice.

“I see, Mils.” You held her tight to your body. Though you refused to admit it, Amelia was getting bigger, so holding her for a long amount of time started to tire out your arms. “I’m gonna set you down, okay?”

You sat Amelia down, her head barely popping over the boards. Matt Martin skated over to Mat and Anthony, nudging them. Matt pointed over to you and Jen, leading to both boys skating over to the three.

“He’s coming over, mommy!” Amelia squealed, standing on her tiptoes to look over the boards.

Mat stopped before he collided with the boards, squatting down to look at Amelia. He held his hand against the glass, Amelia placing her hand on the opposite side.

“Better play good, daddy!” Amelia shouted, a bright smile on her face.

Mat let out a laugh, saying something inaudible before joining his team. You scooped Amelia back into your arms, following Jen back up to the main area of the arena. Security guards found you guys, leading the group up the box. Everyone got comfortable, chatting before the game started.

It was now nearing the end of the third period, Islanders leading 5-2. Mat had scored three goals so far, he was playing an amazing game. The girls kept commenting about how you were his good luck charm.

In the last minute of the game, Mat scored his final goal. It clicked in your head quickly, four goals for Amelia. You noticed it quickly, watching as he played more aggressively on offense. He was making lots of attempts throughout the night, hoping to score as many goals as possible.

Amelia cheered for the goal, jumping around in front of the glass.

“That’s four! Four points!” Amelia cheered, clapping her hands. You took out your phone, recording a video of her excited reaction.

“Four goals for the big four year old!” Emma smiled, fist bumping Amelia.

The box erupted in cheers, you just taking a sip from your drink. The whole game, the smile on your face was never once erased. All your nerves about taking Amelia to a crowded arena filled with rowdy men seemed to cease to nothing.

The game ended, the Islanders winning 6-2. The girls waited in the box for another twenty minutes before going down to the tunnel. Most of the boys were leaving already. A few were stuck in the dressing room, doing media. Mat was one of them, considering he played one of his best games all season.

Another ten minutes passed, Amelia starting to get grouchy. Soon enough, Mat exited the room, Amelia instantly perking up. She reached out of him, a cheesing smile plastered on her face. Mat took her into his arms, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“You did so great!” Amelia smiled, pressing her hands against Mat’s red face. “You got four goals, Matty. I guess you can still play dolls with me.” Amelia leaned her head against Mat’s shoulder.

“You guess?” Mat let out a laugh. “Got four goals just for you, Milly.”

Your face warmed at his words, your suspicions being quickly proven. You pulled out your phone, quickly snapping a picture of Mat and Amelia. You loved to capture little moments like this, always enjoying looking back at them.

“Four goals for me? Oh! Cause I’m four now! You got them for me!” Amelia squealed, her excitement seeping from her small body. A yawn fell from her mouth, her mood quickly shifting. “I’m tired.” She mumbled.

You and Mat both let out a laugh. “Time to put the princess in bed.” You commented. “For sure, you guys are staying with me again tonight?” Mat asked, leading you out of the hallway.

“Yes.”

By the time you guys got out to Mat’s car, Amelia was asleep in his arms. Mat safely buckled her into the carseat, tossing his bag into the trunk of the car. The radio was kept at a low volume as you guys drove home.

Mat had his hand tightly clasped in yours.

“She wouldn’t shut up about you all night,” You spoke quietly, careful to not wake the sleeping girls.

“Is that right?” Mat raised his eyebrows, glancing at you quickly.

“Yup, every other word was your name.” You replied, your eyes fixated on the man. “She had a lot of fun.”

“Did you have fun?” Mat asked, his focus on the road in front of him.

“I did, you make it hard to not have fun.” You admitted, a small smile on your face. “The girls think I’m your good luck charm, they are silly.” You shook your head, a small laugh falling from your mouth.

“You are, baby. You give me a reason to play good,” Mat replied, causing a small blush to form on your face.

“Better keep me around for a while, so that you’ll always play good.” You playfully replied.

“I planned on keeping you around for a while.”

Your face glowed a bright red, though the dark atmosphere kept it hidden. Your body filled with the feeling you thought you’d never feel again. A feeling that had been long forgotten since you’ve been with Amelia’s biological father. After he left, you swore to never fall in love with someone.

Then Mat showed up and he became your only exception.

#nhl #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #hockey #hockey imagines #father mat barzal #mat barzal x y/n #mat barzal x you #mat barzal oneshot #mat barzal fluff #mat barzal fic #mat barzal #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal blurb #mat barzal imagine

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residenthughes · 2 months

Text

slow sundays - mat barzal

pairing: mat barzal x gender neutral reader

word count: 1k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#mb13 #mat barzal #mathew barzal #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal fic #mat barzal fluff #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal x you #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #new york islanders #ny isles #ny islanders #residenthughes

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doc-pickles · 6 months

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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

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midnightsnyx · 6 months

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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

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thewintersoldierdisaster · 3 months

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a/n: i played myself on this one. posted that little barzy blanket thief headcanon post a million years ago and then i had to write this! the pro shop doesn’t sell the themed comfy, which i think it should but whatever. couldn’t resist writing this one and it just got away from me. full disclosure this was written before christmas but i didn’t want to post it in the middle of posting the other christmas fics so i held it back for a little bit! enjoy!!

word count: 6.2k

tw: brief unprotected sex, fingering, dirty talk, protected sex

summary: mat’s a blanket thief and tries to make it up to you

In theory, the king sized mattress that you’d bought for the new house was meant to stop Mat from stealing all of your blankets in the middle of the night. What with king sized sheets and blankets and comforters to go along with the king sized mattress, the thought was that Mat would have more than enough of his own coverings without having to take yours too.

Wrong. So wrong.

Every night for the first week in the new house, Mat rolls himself into a little burrito of blankets, cocooned up in the warmth that you’re missing. He’s oblivious to it too, which is extra annoying for some reason. It’s not even like he normally sleeps all rolled up in the covers. Usually Mat’s a restless sleeper, all that energy trying to escape even when he’s asleep, and he’s starfished on the mattress or rolling from one side to the other. Only after games or travel days does he pass out like the dead, after, of course, working you into the mattress and making sure you both have at least one orgasm.

For whatever reason lately, even when he’s got an off day, he’s been sleeping like a log, moving only to pull the covers over his shoulders and rolling them around his body.

“Mat,” you hiss his name, pulling at the comforter. He doesn’t budge at all. “Mat!”

If anything, he wraps himself tighter in the blankets.

You let out a frustrated little growl and pull harder, planting your foot flat against his outer thigh, or where you assume his outer thigh is, and kick a little, trying to get some leverage. Mat grunts a little in his sleep and shifts his lower body away from you, taking the blankets with him.

You flop back against your side of the bed, exposed to the elements and freezing. Stupid fucking Mat and his “the bedroom has to be at sixty-five degrees so we get the best possible sleep” arguments. A chill runs down your spine and you scowl to yourself, yanking at the little bit of sheet you managed to keep him from taking, wrapping it around yourself and snuggling up close against his back for a little warmth.

The next morning, as usual, Mat’s awake before you and you’ve got the covers back, having subconsciously pulled them over your body when he left the bed. Groaning at the thought of having to leave the warm bed, you drag a hand over your face before slowly getting up and padding to the bathroom to brush your teeth and wash your face. Feet shoved into Ugg slippers that have seen better days and pulling a sweatshirt over your head, you make your way down to the kitchen where you find Mat making himself eggs at the stove. You lean a hip against the kitchen island, watching him for a few minutes, the way his muscles work as he’s cooking, bare back displayed just for you. His sweats hang low on his hips and you want to press your hands against his lower back.

“Staring’s rude, Squeaks,” he says on a laugh. Without turning from the stove, he gestures to the counter with the spatula in his hand, “coffee’s hot.”

“Stealing all the blankets from your poor frozen girlfriend is also rude,” you reply deadpan, reaching up for your favorite mug and pouring yourself a generous serving of coffee. You doctor it up with sugar cookie flavored creamer and wrap your hands around the ceramic to warm them up before taking a sip.

Now he turns to face you and his eyes go wide and his eyebrows lift up his forehead. “Ah, shit. I’m still doing that even with the bigger bed?”

“Mhm,” you confirm with a roll of your eyes. “I’d say we should upgrade to a California King, but you’d probably keep doing it.” An amused smirk plays on your lips and Mat grimaces.

He sets the spatula down and flips off the burner before coming over to stand in between your legs. You keep your mug held up by your chest as a barrier. “I’m sorry, babe,” he brushes the tip of his nose against yours. His hands fall to your hips, sliding up underneath the fabric of your sweatshirt. His palms are warm and rough against your skin and you shiver a little. His hands slide up your sides, thumbs brushing the undersides of your breasts and you can’t help yourself from pushing your chest further into his hands. “You should’ve woken me up, I would’ve given you the blankets back.”

A startled laugh bursts out of your mouth and Mat looks briefly offended. The pads of his thumbs freeze on your nipples.

“What?” He asks, flicking a nipple with his fingernail. You press your thighs together. “I can share.”

“If you,” you start, stuttering a little as Mat’s fingers roll over your nipples, “think that it’s just that easy to wake you up, you’re delusional.”

Mat huffs a laugh and you yelp when he pinches down hard. The menace. He knows he’s a heavy sleeper. You reach behind you to set your coffee mug down on the counter, afraid that the hot brew is going to spill everywhere. “Aw, come on,” he teases, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek, “it’s so easy to wake me up.” His hands continue their work under your sweatshirt and you feel your panties growing damp.

“Mmm?” You hum, letting your knee rub up against the outside of Mat’s thigh slowly, opening yourself up to him. “I kicked you twice and not even a peep.” Your hands come up to lock around Mat’s neck. Your fingers play in the shirt bristles of Mat’s hair and you wish, not for the first time in months, that he would let his hair grow in again.

He lets his hands slide down your sides again, one over your stomach and one around your back. “Your mistake,” he says, pulling you closer so your core is flush up against the hard ridge of his erection. You grind against him mindlessly, tension building low in your stomach, already forgetting why you were annoyed. “I don’t respond to kicking,” his hand works its way underneath your sweats and grabs a palmful of your ass. The other hand remains frustratingly warm against your lower stomach, the tips of his fingers just barely brushing against the elastic of your panties. “Gotta be nicer to me, baby.”

“Oh yeah?” You breathe, wiggling against him, scratching your nails absently against his scalp. “What do you suggest?”

“I dunno,” he shrugs, kneading your ass with one hand. “Could’ve wrapped that pretty mouth around my dick.”

Fire pools in your stomach even as you giggle. “And how would I have penetrated that cocoon of blankets you stole?” You ask tartly, raising an eyebrow. Before Mat can answer, you continue, “besides, blow jobs are a reward for good boys.”

Mat’s ears go pink, but he smirks at you. “Just like getting your pussy licked is for good girls?”

Your cheeks heat and arousal floods between your legs, a little gasp punching from your lungs. You try to press your thighs together, but Mat’s hand is lightning fast, sliding under the band of your panties and cupping you in one warm, broad palm. You squeal at the sudden contact, grinding down onto his hand. “Maaat,” you whine his name, his fingers stroking gently between your folds, teasing at your entrance. He uses his grip on your ass to drag you closer to his chest and you allow him, knees feeling weak as his fingers play with you.

Your hands drift down to his biceps, gripping them for dear life to keep you upright. “Stop teasing,” you hiss, the tip of his middle finger sliding inside of you. You clench around him, chasing his hand and your pleasure.

“So fucking wet, babe,” Mat grins, dropping his forehead to yours. His hand never stops moving, drawing you closer to the peak of your pleasure. “So good for me.”

All the blood in your body rushes to your cunt at the praise and your back is arching, pressing Mat’s fingers deeper. He holds the pad of his thumb firmly over your clit and squeezes your ass, slanting his mouth over yours to muffle the moan that escapes when he rubs against your clit. Your toes curl in your slippers and your head falls back, legs trembling with the force of your orgasm as it washes over you. Mat’s fingers guide you through the aftershocks for a few lazy moments and you drop your chin to your chest, breathing hard.

“Why was I mad at you?” You mumble, laughing breathlessly. You wiggle your hips, starting to get overstimulated and uncomfortable with Mat’s hand still down the front of your panties. He takes the hint and pulls his hand out of your pants. His fingers are wet with your arousal as they brush against your lower stomach and you shiver happily.

Casually, he sticks his middle and ring fingers in his mouth to suck them clean, releasing them with a wet pop. “‘Cause I steal blankets,” he replies, without really thinking. He realizes his mistake a beat later, hazel eyes going wide and jaw dropping open. “Aw, fuck. If I haul you up on the counter and eat you out will you forget I said that?”

“Nope!” Your giggle turns into a shriek as you try to escape Mat’s lunging hands. He digs his fingers into your sides, tickling you mercilessly. “Nooo! Mat! Stop! No tickling-“

“Gonna make you forget about the blankets one way or another,” Mat laughs, holding your squirming body tightly. Your ass presses against his crotch and he hisses, biting gently on your shoulder.

“Never! If I forget, you’ll just steal them again,” your words are stuttered from laughter and you fight Mat’s hands. He’s stronger and manages to wrestle you to the kitchen floor, pinning your wrists above your head, straddling your lap, knees on either side of your hips. His sweats ride low and the chain around his neck sways with the momentum. His cock bobs behind his sweats and you swallow harshly. Mat grins down at you, flattening his body to yours, his cock pressing insistently against your stomach. He kisses the edge of your jaw as you wiggle under him.

“You look pretty warm to me,” Mat teases, rolling his hips against yours. The hard heat of his erection makes your thighs tremble.

You wrinkle your nose at him, fully aware that he has the upper hand in your positioning. “You’re going to be late to practice,” you say, even as your hips lift to his subconsciously.

“Always plenty of time to fuck my girl silly,” he says lightly, bumping his cock against your cunt again. “As long as she forgives me for being a blanket thief.”

“Mmm,” you whine, heat prickling up your spine, “you’re forgiven. Just…I need you.”

Mat’s teeth scrape at your jaw and one hand lets go of your wrists, moving between your bodies and tugging your sweats and panties down in one swift move. The cold kitchen tile against your bare ass has you yelping and instinctively bucking your hips off the ground, up into Mat’s hips. He soothes a hand over your inner thigh before pulling his sweats down enough to free his cock. You crane your neck to look down at him, grinning when you see the tip of him, groaning when he bumps it against your clit. Shocks of pleasure ripple through your body and you whine again, heels kicking against the floor, dripping for him.

“Gonna give you everything, ‘kay?” Mat mumbles, gripping the base of his cock and guiding it to your entrance, letting the tip slip inside of you. His head falls forward on a groan and you grind down on him, trying to get more.

“Just not - can’t come inside,” you babble, bucking your hips up into his. “Not without a condom.”

“I’ll pull out,” he promises and you know he means it. You’re on birth control and neither of you is ready for kids. “Gotta fuck you good. Make you come on my cock and gonna finish in your mouth.”

His words are punctuated with harsh thrusts that have your back sliding against the floor. Your free hand roams Mat’s body, scratching against his chest and arm, fingers tangling briefly in the chain around his neck. You egg him on, reaching down to dig your nails into his hips. “C’mon, Mat. Harder, please!” You beg, meeting him thrust for thrust.

“Fuck. Fuck, so good. You’re so perfect, baby,” Mat grunts, leaning down to kiss you and changing the angle so he hits harder and deeper inside of you. “Gonna fuck you everywhere in this house. Every wall, every floor.”

Your body tenses up with pleasure, gasps and moans leaving your lips along with Mat’s name. Your orgasm builds heavy and fast in your stomach, clit throbbing from the drag of Mat’s pelvis against the swollen, sensitive nub. “Gonna - Mat, please!” You cut off in a wail when his free hand finds your clit and pinches it, sending you over the edge of pleasure, sparks dancing in your vision, arousal leaking from your cunt down the curve of your ass. Your hand slaps against the floor, fingers scrabbling for purchase as he continues fucking into you, the hard, hot drag of his bare cock making you stupid.

Mat’s hips continue pistoning into yours and you’re faintly aware of the slapping of skin against skin underneath his babbling. “Jesus, so fucking pretty when you come. Love that face, love that I made you make that face,” the words fall from his mouth without him even focusing on them, too busy working his cock in and out of you.

You watch his shoulders tense up, feel his thrusts falter a little and you know he’s close. “Mat, not - no baby,” you remind him, pushing at his shoulder, hand slipping down to his chest, stomach, hip.

“Fuck,” he groans, pumping into you once more before pulling out completely, the sudden loss of him inside of you leaving you feeling too empty. You slide your own hand from his hip and let your fingers skate over your clit lazily, not really working yourself towards another orgasm, but just easing the empty feeling. Mat’s hand grips the base of his cock, jacking himself once, twice, three times before his entire body goes taut and he comes all over your sweatshirt covered chest, too far gone to even give you a chance to try and get your mouth on him. “Sorry, baby, sorry. I’ll buy you a new one. I couldn’t—“ he mutters around the groans and slick sounds of his palm sliding over his cock.

When he’s done, the hand holding yours above your head loosens and Mat flops down onto his back next to you. His cock is softening against his thigh and you have a literal puddle of his cum warming your skin through the material of your sweatshirt. Your ass is cold against the tile, wet where your arousal had dripped down the curve. You roll your neck and look at Mat, watching his chest heave while he catches his breath. His cheeks are pink from exertion and his limbs are completely limp.

“We’re disgusting,” you comment on a laugh, afraid to move.

“Why didn’t you say the tile was so cold on your ass?” Mat replies, lifting his hips so he can pull his sweats back up. You watch with a little pout as his cock disappears under the sweats, a little wet spot forming and turning the fabric a darker grey.

“I was a little busy getting railed on the kitchen floor,” you deadpan. “That I’m going to have to clean with, like, bleach now.”

Mat rolls onto his side, props his head up on his elbow, and gives you such a mischievous, shit-eating grin that you kick out your foot to make contact with his shin. “What’s with that look?” You comment, wiggling your sweats back up over your lower body. He whines a little.

“Just thinking about how hard up we were that I had to fuck you on the floor,” he laughs, his fingers coming over to tug on a piece of your hair.

“If anyone hears about this,” you warn, half-joking, half-serious, “I swear to God that I will never give you a blowjob again.”

A laugh startles out of his chest and Mat promises he won’t say anything, defends himself that he doesn’t usually talk about your sex life with the guys anyway.

“That includes Beau,” you warn him, carefully wiggling into a sitting position, wincing when Mat’s cum slides down your chest and pools in the fabric of gathered on your lap. “This is so gross, Mat.”

“He’s my best friend!” Mat yelps. “I tell him everything.” You whip your head in his direction, eyes wide and mouth dropped open a bit. There is no way Beau knows everything about sex life. Mat backtracks, his hands up in surrender, “not everything. I didn’t mean everything. He knows a lot, but not about the time we almost killed each other in the shower or the time I almost —“

You clap a hand over his mouth, muffling his ramble. “Enough. Oh my god. You seriously need to get a filter,” you can’t help the little disbelieving laugh that works its way out of your mouth. Shaking your head, you mutter to yourself, “to think this all started because you’re a fucking blanket thief.”

Mat opens his mouth under your hand to defend himself and you can physically see him gearing up for a long ramble, so you shake your head. “No, nope. Go get yourself cleaned up for practice. I need to get myself in a completely different headspace for the day,” you laugh. “Fucked on the kitchen floor was not how I pictured my week starting.”

Mat licks your palm so you’ll pull it away from his face. You grimace at him and wipe your hand on his bare chest, the faint smattering of dark hair over his chest tickling your skin. “Don’t say that’s gross, Squeaks,” he teases, leaning in to kiss you, “I’ve had my tongue all over that body.”

You narrow your eyes at him, “it’s the principle of the licking. Now leave me, I have to figure out how to get this sweatshirt off without making more of a mess and it’s not going to be cute.”

He laughs at you and gets to his feet, dropping a kiss to the top of your head. “Whatever you want, babe. I’ll be back down in a few to finish making breakfast.”

You’d almost forgotten that Mat had been cooking when you came downstairs. Thank God he’d turned off the stove. As he heads back upstairs, you drop back onto your back, arms spread out to your sides. What a fucking morning.

——-

Mat’s out of town for a few days, a mini road trip that has him gone from your bed for nearly a week, and so you get the bed and blankets all to yourself. You’ve more or less forgotten about Mat’s thieving habits when you have the thick comforters wrapped securely around your body.

So when Mat comes home on a Saturday afternoon, lugging a giant shopping bag along with his suitcase and duffel bag, you’re a little curious and a lot confused.

“Plane snacks?” You tease after accepting a hello kiss from him.

“Those didn’t even make it out of the Tampa airport,” he grins, setting the bag on the couch. “This is even better.”

You lean over the back of the couch and watch as Mat pulls a blue and orange something out of the bag. He shakes it out and you recognize it as the extra long Islanders-logo patterned, hooded Comfy that’s being sold in the pro shop at the Northwell rink. Mat holds it out in front of him with a little “ta-dah!” and a big, cheesy grin on his face.

“What is that?” You ask rhetorically, hand reaching out of its own accord to touch the fleecy fabric. It’s soft, you’ll give him that.

“It’s one of those Comfy things, for you to wear when I steal blankets,” he laughs. “I haven’t forgotten what happened last week.”

Instinctively, your gaze cuts to the spot on the kitchen floor that you’d scrubbed three times with bleach. Mat’s eyes follow yours and his grin turns into a feral little smirk. “Haven’t forgotten that either,” he continues. “But try it on.”

“This is ridiculous,” you say, grabbing for the hooded blanket. Pulling it over your jeans and t-shift, your voice is muffled, “you could always just stop making a cocoon out of the blankets - oh!”

It’s extremely soft, the Comfy. The hood is oversized enough that the hem of it flops over your eyes, obscuring your view of Mat, and keeping your head nice and warm. The sleeves hang a few inches past your hands and the bottom of it comes to your mid-shin. It’s like wearing a space heater. You wrap your arms around yourself and sway a little, giggling.

“I actually love this?” You can’t believe it. There’s so much room and you know that if you were sitting on the couch you could tuck your legs up under the fabric and still have plenty of space. “Okay, we still have to train you not to steal blankets, but this is a nice temporary solution.”

Mat’s laugh is delighted and you flip back the hood to look at him. “You’re adorable in that,” he says, coming around the back of the couch to get into your personal space. “Gonna share with me?”

“Absolutely fucking not,” you giggle, dancing away from him, the fleece swishing around your legs. “This is my reward!”

“For what?” Mat cocks an eyebrow at you.

“Putting up with you,” you retort, hands on your hips, knowing you look insane in your new getup.

Mat grabs for the fabric, snagging it between two long fingers and pulling you into him. “Babe,” he kisses your cheek, “you give just as good as you get.”

You cuddle up against his chest, head tucked under his chin and arms wrapped around his waist. “Missed you,” you mumble into his shirt.

“Missed you too,” his arms tighten around your back. “How about we do something fun tonight? I’ll take you out for dinner too.”

——-

The Comfy works wonders even though Mat continues to steal the blankets. More often than not, you’re wearing the giant hoodie to bed, tucking your legs up underneath and curling up in a little ball.

Mat loves the stupid thing too - if you’re wearing it while laying on the couch, he’ll crawl up underneath it too, laying on top of you, chest to chest, like a giant weighted blanket. The head hole isn’t quite big enough for both of you, so usually the top of Mat’s head is bumping up against your chin while he rests his cheek against your chest, groping and mouthing at your breasts.

“It’s hot under here,” he complains, voice muffled. He’s kneading one of your breasts in his giant hand, lazily grinding his half-hard cock against your thigh.

“The Comfy is only meant for one person,” you sigh. You’re getting sweaty and worked up from Mat’s body heat. “It’s a giant fleece blanket, what did you expect?”

“Dunno,” Mat says against your shirt, licking your nipple through the thin cotton. You arch your back, pressing your breast into his mouth. “Wasn’t really thinking.”

He bites the underside of your breast and you wince, even as a spark of pleasure fires low in your stomach. You’re surprised that you don’t have a permanent mark there - Mat’s a biter.

“Story of your life, Mathew,” you murmur affectionately. “How about I take the portable sauna off and you fuck me into the couch properly?”

Still under the Comfy, Mat tries to sit up, gets tangled in the fabric and before you know it, you’re both falling off the couch and landing on the floor in a pile. Your knee drives into Mat’s thigh, your elbow in his stomach and he grunts with pain. Your head takes a glancing hit to the edge of the coffee table and you see stars briefly. “Fuck,” you drag the curse out for a few extra seconds. Mat’s wiggling underneath you, trying to get out from the confines of the fabric.

“Are you okay?” You ask, trying to roll off of him and help pull the fabric away from his body. Mat’s face is bright red, but he looks okay.

“No one can ever know about that,” he says seriously.

You laugh and he breaks, cracking up too. “How about we never discuss our sex life outside of the relationship cone of silence?” You hold out your hand for him to shake.

“Deal,” he shakes your hand once, snorting a laugh. He leans up into a sitting position. “Can I still fuck you into the couch?”

“I think I’d be kind of insulted if you didn’t,” you pull the Comfy over your head and toss it off to the side before crawling into Mat’s lap so you can wind your arms around his neck and kiss him deeply. Mat’s hands roam up your back, under your shirt, pulling you closer to him. You rock your hips, grinding down over his cock and Mat moans into your mouth. He braces one arm around your lower back and gets up on his knees to lift you onto the couch, pressing you back into the cushions. He settles into the cradle of your hips, your thighs coming up to wrap around his waist, ankles crossing at his lower back.

He grinds his cock against your cunt and you whine into his mouth, breaking the kiss to say, “want it hard and fast, Mat. Don’t be sweet, just fuck me hard, okay?”

Mat’s pupils are blow so wide you can’t see any of his hazel irises. He nods like a bobble head, “yeah, fuck yeah, baby. Whatever you need.”

He makes quick work of your pants, leaning back on his knees to get both of you bare from the waist down. His jaw goes slack when he sees just how wet you are for him, his hands holding your thighs open so he can just stare for a bit. “Jesus,” he mutters and your cheeks warm. You kick at the back of his thigh, startling Mat.

“If you don’t get a condom on in the next thirty seconds,” you say, fighting past the blush that’s heating your entire body, “I can’t guarantee that I won’t just take matters into my own hands.”

Mat laughs hoarsely and springs into action, reaching for one of the little side drawers on the coffee table. A strip of condoms is hidden away there just for times like these. Your hands are already sliding down your stomach to tease at your throbbing clit. Mat catches sight of you and smacks your hands away, the condoms in his other hand. “Oh no way,” he growls. “I still have twenty seconds.”

You laugh and start a little countdown, making Mat’s fingers fumble on the foil wrappings. He scowls at you and shifts so one knee is pressed firmly against your cunt. You break off into a surprised moan, head thrown back against the couch cushion, “Mat!”

He shifts his knee, moving it slightly so your throbbing clit catches against his leg hair and you whine, grinding down harder on him. “You’re not gonna touch yourself,” he warns, finally getting the condom open and rolled down his straining erection, “are you, baby?”

“No, no,” the words stutter out of your chest as Mat keeps moving his knee against you. Your hands fly out to clutch the couch cushions and Mat grins down at you.

“This pussy’s mine,” he says, planting one foot on the floor and keeping one knee bent on the couch so he can stabilize himself. You whine at the loss of contact from your cunt, but the noise gets choked off in the next second when Mat grabs your hips and thrusts into you in one swift punch of his hips. His hips smack against yours as he bottoms out and you cry his name in a babble of breathless chants.

“Told you,” he grunts, pumping into you and using his grip on your hips to push and pull you closer, your ass hitting high up on his thighs. “Mine, fucking mine.”

Your legs lock around his hips, thighs trembling, heels pushing against the top of his ass. “Oh - god, more! Mat!” Your fingertips turn white from how hard you’re grabbing at the couch cushions, your body sliding up with the force of Mat’s thrusts. Your breath hiccups out of your lungs, fire burning in your veins. Every hit of his cock against your g-spot has you screaming his name.

“Fucking -“ Mat grunts, jaw slack as he watches where his cock splits you open, disappearing into your soaked cunt. “Gorgeous. Fucking all for me, baby.”

You need more, just a little more to push you over the edge. Mat usually pays attention to your clit, helping you finish, but he’s pounding into you hard and fast, just like you asked, so you reach a shaking hand down and circle your fingertips around your clit, arching your back with the added stimulation. Mat growls over you and bats your hand away, not stopping his pace.

“Told you no touching,” he huffs, pulling your hips flush against his and holding you there, his cock throbbing inside of your cunt. “Ask for it, baby.”

Tears slip out of the corners of your eyes and trail down your temples. You whine, “wanna touch my clit, Mat. Need it.”

Instead of touching you, Mat’s hands tighten on your hips and circle them slowly over his cock, your clit pressed tightly against the dark hair at his base, making you moan, eyes squeezed shut hard enough for you to see stars.

“Come on, baby,” Mat mumbles, watching you fall apart. “Come for me, gonna make you cum. Right here on my cock.” He pulls his hips back, all but the tip of him leaving your body and you babble at him, trying to grab at his wrists to pull him back in. “Who’s gonna make you cum?” He asks, snapping his hips back against yours, harsh and fast.

“You!” You wail, dragging out the word for several seconds, barely breathing as Mat bullies the orgasm from your body, holding your hips to his as you clench around him, shaking in his grip. Pleasure loosens all of your limbs as you gush around Mat, crying his name.

He strokes his thumbs over your hipbones and pumps into you a handful more times, but you’re barely aware of him filling the condom with a shout of your name, your head fuzzy with post-orgasm haze. Mat breathes heavily over you, slumping slightly to the side as he finishes, loosening his grip on you. You blink sleepily up at him, a lazy, satisfied smile forming on your lips. “What?” He asks, voice raspy and smoky.

“Just really like your face,” your smile turns a little wicked, “‘specially when you’re cumming.” You wrangle your features into a caricature of his orgasm face. “Looks like this.”

Mat pinches your hip and pulls out of you, wincing when he takes the condom off and ties off the end. “Yeah? Yours looks like this,” he throws his head back dramatically, squeezes his eyes shut, and drops his mouth open, letting his tongue flop out like he’s a corpse on a terrible soap opera.

You bark a laugh, kicking at him. “I do not!”

“Do too,” Mat grins, leaning down to cup your jaw and kiss you with tongue and teeth. “Good thing I think you’re the fucking hottest woman on the planet.” He climbs off the couch to toss the condom and you watch his ass as he walks away. It should literally be a crime to have an ass that tight. Your clit gives a pathetic little throb as you watch him, used and abused but so ready to go another round. You slip a hand between your legs, rolling the swollen nub between your fingers gently.

“Can we implement like naked weekends around here?” You ask, popping your head over the back of the couch. Mat’s laughter echoes through the kitchen.

“You know I’m never gonna say no to that,” he replies, and then in the next second, his t-shirt is flying through the air and landing on your head. “In fact, let’s start now.”

——-

You get in late from girls’ night - it’s close to one in the morning - and you know Mat’s asleep. He’d texted you around midnight, a typo-filled message that essentially said he was going to bed, but if you wanted to wake him with a blow job he wouldn’t be opposed to it. You’d snorted a laugh at the message, hiding your screen from the other girls while you typed back a definitive no. He’d replied with a pouting selfie that you ignored. You figure he’d gone to bed shortly after that since the boys have a game later in the day.

The house is dark when you get home, just a few of the under cabinet lights on in the kitchen so you don’t trip on anything.

You make your way slowly up to your bedroom, unsteady on your feet, discarding your shoes and clothes as you go. All you want to do is curl up in bed and pass out.

There’s a lump of blankets on one side of the bed that tells you Mat is passed out under there. Sure enough, when you get closer, you can see one of his bare feet poking out from the bottom of the covers. You smile faintly to yourself, getting rid of the last of your clothes and rummaging around in a drawer for a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. The alcohol has your body feeling overly warm so you don’t bother with retrieving your Comfy from the closet. You’ll manage with whatever blankets you can wrestle away from Mat.

The bed is nice and warm from Mat’s body heat and you settle happily on your side of the bed, cricketing your feet a little to really warm things up. Mat hasn’t wrapped himself all up yet, so you scoot closer to him, planning on pressing your chest against his back and spooning him, but instead of feeling bare skin or the cotton of a t-shirt, your fingers are met with a familiar fleecy material.

“What the fuck?” you forget to whisper and your voice is loud and echoes around the room. You squint and pull back the blankets that are partially covering Mat’s head.

The royal blue and orange of the Islanders’ logo comes into view and your jaw drops when it finally clicks that Mat’s wearing your Comfy to bed. The hood is secured over his head and his hands are tucked into the sleeves.

“Oh my god!” You shove at Mat’s shoulder and he startles.

“Hnghh?” He grunts, rolling onto his back, yawning.

“You took my Comfy!” You jab at his arm and Mat’s eyes crack open.

A faint, sleepy smile curves his lips. “Hey, babe,” he mumbles, reaching a hand out for you. “Have fun with the girls?” He stretches, blankets shifting around.

“Don’t ’hey, babe’ me!” You grumble, pulling at the blankets. “You literally gave me that because you take my blankets. Now you take my Comfy?”

Mat yawns again, jaw cracking. He doesn’t look apologetic at all. “It’s warm,” he whines, grabbing your hand to pull you closer. “And it smells like you.”

You go to him despite yourself, scooting over and curling up against his side, tucking your shoulder under his armpit. Your legs brush against his and you frown. “Are you naked in my Comfy, Mathew?” You yelp, pulling at the fleece fabric. “You cannot be serious!”

“I have boxers on!” He laughs in protest, swatting your hands away from him. “I’m not gross.”

“Yes, you are,” you grumble, growing sleepy again. “I want a new one now that you’ve taken this one.”

He slings his legs over yours, arms holding you close as he kisses your forehead. “I can share, Squeaks. I’m a generous boyfriend,” he laughs against your hair. You press closer to his warmth, burying your face in his chest.

“You failed sharing in kindergarten, Mat,” you tease quietly. He slaps your ass gently and you giggle, curling up closer to him.

“So mean to me,” you can hear the pout in his voice. “Definitely not sharing now. Gonna buy my own Comfy.”

——

When Mat comes home from practice three days later, he’s toting another giant bag that he hadn’t left the house with.

You eye it suspiciously and he’s laughing like a lunatic as he pulls out another Comfy, declaring, “we match, Squeaks.”

“Oh my god,” you laugh. You didn’t think he was actually serious about getting his own.

Mat pulls the fabric over his head and does a little twirl for you, holding his arms out. “How do I look?” He asks, striking a dramatic pose, pushing his lips out in an exaggerated duck face.

“Like the hottest oversized fleece hoodie model in the world,” you reply, reaching out to grab the fabric and pull him in for a kiss.

#mat barzal #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal x you #mat barzal fic #mat barzal imagine

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hughes86-43 · 17 days

Text

tough love | M. Barzal

request - can you write for Mat and do enemies to lovers as coworkers. maybe she’s on the social team and she gets hurt getting content and he’s the one to help her get to the trainers for medical attention? (thanks for requesting :)

warnings - mentions of blood, not sure what else but please let me know if there is more! some grammar mistakes present.

To say working on the social media team for a NHL team being your live long dream would be an understatement. Ever since you watched your first NHL game with your dad, you somehow someway wanted to work for one of the teams. You went to school, and you worked hard to get to where you are now.

The lead social media member for the New York Islanders.

You honestly cried when they first offered the job to you. You couldn’t believe it. All your hard work was starting to pay off.

Upon your first year there, you met all of the Islanders team, and also, made some great friendships with them. You did your best to be friendly with everyone as you were going to constantly be working around them. Mostly everyone was very welcoming and friendly towards you, however there is always that one person that begins to get on your last nerves every time you see him.

That person for you was Mat Barzal.

The truth was you never did like him especially since you heard what he had said about you. Within the first month that you were there, you had been walking to your office when you overheard your name down the hall. Thinking someone was wanting you, you walked down the hall, but you stopped at the doorway when you heard what actually was being said.

“I don’t know man, just something about her is nerve wracking. Maybe it’s the over-the-top excitement about everything, I don’t know, or maybe it’s just the way she is constantly annoying in those meetings.” Even though you had only met him twice in that first month, you could tell that the voice was Mat. Once you heard him say that, you made your way back down the hallway to your office. Shutting the door, you did your best to not let it get to your head.

However, no matter what he thought of you, you still wouldn’t let that keep you down. You were just excited that you finally got your dream job, and you were not about to let someone you barely knew get you down about it.

Now over a year later, that hatred you felt for Mat was still there. You didn’t know if he ever noticed it, but you didn’t exactly hide that you didn’t like him either.

The Islanders were playing the Panthers at home tonight. You arrived to the arena for morning practice in your black dress pants with a blue sweater paired with black heeled boots. Multiple of your coworkers complimented you on your outfit that it was perfectly matched with the Islanders blue.

You walked down the long hallway to your office to get your notes for the media coverage today. You were unfortunately going to be interviewing Mat after practice, but fortunately you also would be interviewing other, nicer players after him.

During practice, you advised the intern photographer of what types of shots they should be getting, practicing for the game later tonight. Soon after, all the players were off the ice and down the hall to the locker room to change. Leaving you to mentally prepare for interviewing Mat.

Mat was always professional during the interviews he did with you, however you could tell that he was just trying to get it over with, which he doesn’t do with any of the other media people. That action itself makes you even more annoyed at him.

As you were waiting to get the all clear to make your way to the locker room, you got held up by your office door not opening. You tried the key card and everything but it just wouldn’t open for some reason. Deciding to just figure it out later, even though your notes were in there, you went to the locker room. The whole fiasco had made you late by ten minutes, so you knew that Mat would be annoyed at you.

That assumption was true as you walked into the locker room and saw him on his phone. When he heard you walked in, he spoke to you with an annoying tone. “Other important things to take care of, huh?” You took a deep breathe, trying not to let your emotions get the best of you.

“Yes, sorry, my key card wouldn’t let me into my office,” you say as you get your mic ready for him while trying to rummage through your bag for your water.

“Here, give me the mic.” He grabs it out of your hand after you didn’t respond for five seconds. “Are you sure you weren’t fired?” Although you could tell he was just trying to get a reaction out of you, you couldn’t help but to give a sarcastic answer.

“Seeing as no one has came and dragged me out of here yet, I think I’m still good. You couldn’t make a goal during practice, are you sure you’re still going to be starting tonight?” You turn your head away from your bag and stare dead into his eyes. He gives you a blank stare.

“Is that part of the interview? Trying to take shots at me now, huh?”

You grab back the mic from him and take your seat in-front of him. “No, that wasn’t part of the interview, and I’ll take as many shots at you that I want, since you seemingly want to do the same.” You get comfortable in your chair, leaning back and crossing one leg over the other, which then causes your water bottle to fall to the floor. Water goes everywhere, because of course the lid wasn’t on good.

You reach out to grab your water bottle, the same time that Mat reaches down with a towel in his hand to clean it up. You try to take it out of his hand, but he keeps pulling it from you. “Here, I can do it!” You say reaching out for it again. “No, I got it, I can do it, just put your lid back on your bottle before it gets worse!” You end up just letting him clean up the water as you put the lid back on, because truly you could’ve went back and forth with him for a lot longer.

He stands up and walks to take the towel to the hamper by the door. Once he sits back down, you ask, “Are we ready to start now?”

“Yes, unless you’re going to spill your water again?” You roll your eyes at that and begin asking the questions.

Twenty minutes later, you finish with the last question. You turn the mic off and throw it back into your bag until the next one. You’re rummaging around your bag again when you find the key card that was actually the right one for your office. “Ugh!” You say out loud, not noticing that Mat was still in the room.

From his stall, he whips his head around so fast and makes his way towards you. “What? Are you okay?” You jump when you turn around, not realizing he was closer than he seemed. “Sorry for scaring you, what’s wrong?” He says eyeing you up and down, practically seeing if you broke anything.

“Oh, nothing. I just found the right key card to my office.” You wave the key card in front of you. Mat nervously runs his hand through his hair, backing up to give you your space back.

“Oh, that’s good, great, guess that means we’re stuck with you, eh?” At that, you throw your key back into your back, along with your water bottle, and throw your bag onto your shoulder.

“Yep, guess so! Now if you don’t mind, I’m going to go back to my office, which means I’m not fired, and prepare for the next interview, so thanks!” You just want nothing more than to get into your office and let out the emotions you’ve been trying to hold in.

Mat seems to notice the change in your demeanor, he reaches out to touch your shoulder. “Hey, are you okay? I was only joking,” he says softly but you move out of his reach.

“Yep, all good! I know you’re joking, it’s all good!” You rush out the door before he can saying anything else.

You make it through all the interviews, make you’re way home to take a nap, and now your back for the game tonight. You changed your outfit to blue pants and a black long sleeve paired with the same boots from earlier.

You managed to get into your office with the right key this time. You take some last minute notes before heading to your spot in the arena.

You spend the first and second period in your spot with the other media people behind the glass. You send out tweets, take videos, send instructions on what the intern photographer should take photos of, and take notes to ask the players after the game. During the third period, you’re doing the same until the worst thing imaginable happens to you.

It’s 5 minutes left in the final period, the opposing team ends up with the puck on the opposite side of the ice from you. You weren’t paying attention much to what was happening on the ice, which you should’ve been, since the puck somehow ended up flying over the glass and hitting you under the eye. It has you stumbling to find your balance, you hold your cheek, and you can feel the blood flowing down it.

Mat sees it all happen. The puck flying through the air, over the glass and hitting you. He can see the blood gushing down your cheek. He rushes to the bench to get a trainer. He’s practically trying to climb over the glass to see if you’re okay, because the amount of blood doesn’t seem that good. The trainers are around the glass within seconds to get you up and down the tunnel to the medical room.

You faintly hear someone say “I’ll check on you after” but you’re not sure if the force of the hit left you hallucinating things. You’re also not sure if that was Mat or not who was rushing towards you behind the glass.

You finish the rest of the period laying on a medical table in the medical room. They ruled out anything major; they just had to stitch you up. Now you just have to lay there for thirty minutes with an ice pack on your face until they rule that you’re good to go home.

Ten minutes or so after, you hear someone ask one of the medical staff about you. They must’ve said that you’re still here, because you see Mat coming through the door looking frantic. He changed out of his gear, mostly now just in shorts and a hoodie.

He spots you laying on the table in the corner, he rushes over to you. “Oh, gosh, are you okay? I came as fast a could to check on you.” He pulls up a chair to sit next to you. He’s not sure whether he should reach out to touch you or not, but he decides not to, not yet anyway.

“Yeah, I think so, pretty much. They stitched me up and gave me some Tylenol for the pain,” You reply back, trying to look anywhere but at him.

He nods his head at your answer. “That’s good, that’s good,” he says nervously.

With his nervous tone, you turn your head to look at him. For someone that finds you annoying, he sure seems to be worked up about something, you think to yourself. Heck, he probably came to make sure you died but got disappointed.

Deciding to speak up after a couple minutes of awkward silence. You ask him, “Why did you help me out there? I would’ve though you would have left me lying there.”

Mat looks down at you with a shocked look on his face. “Why would I do that? Just leave you there? As you’re bleeding down your face?”

“Well yeah, you’re not really my biggest fan, ya know,” you reply as a matter of fact, like he should know that.

“What? Where’d you get that from?” He’s now trying to decide if he should go get one of the medical staff as he is now worried that the hit as made you go crazy.

“Oh, I don’t know, since you said that my excitement about working was over the top or the fact you said that I was annoying.”

“When did I ever say that?” He pauses. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” you wave your hand around, “Plus, you’ve never not been annoyed with me during interviews, when you’ve been nothing but nice to anyone else so.”

Mat sits there trying to process everything you’ve been saying. “Oh.”

Honestly, you’re pretty sure your just spilling all the thoughts on your mind right now. “It’s not like you’ve been my favorite person or anything. I’ve been trying to annoy you since you said that.”

“Oh-” Mat starts, but you continue talking.

“And then I was annoyed this morning because you really want me fired for some reason since you joked about it all morning.”

Mat tries to get another sentence out. “I don’t want you fired-”

You’re still rambling on and on. “I mean, I get it, I really do. My excitement can be over the top sometimes about things, but I don’t think that warrants being fired over-”

“Y/N-”

“I mean what’s wrong with being excited? I’ve worked hard and nobody else seems to think I should be fired, well except you and this lady down the hall, but that was probably because I spilt my drink on her by accident, but still-”

“Y/N!” That shuts you right up. “Did the puck rattle you so much that you’re going crazy now? Take a deep breath with me, you’ve been talking nonstop without taking a moment to breathe.”

You follow his breathing and calm down a bit. You lay your head back down on the table with the washcloth back on your cut. However, you shoot your head back up at what Mat says.

“You know, I never wanted you to be fired. Heck, you’re so good at your job that I don’t think anyone else would be as good as you, so they wouldn’t want to fire you.”

You’re the confused one right now, “Huh?”

“Shhh, it’s my turn to talk now. Honestly, I don’t even know why I said those things about you. I know I was wrong for saying those things about you, and I’m sorry,” He looks into your eyes. “I love how you’re so excited about what you do and it’s understandable because you worked so hard to get to where you are. Overtime, I’ve started to admire how hard you work and how excited you are to do the work that you do. It has always made me so happy to see you do the thing you love to do. I guess my way to showcase that was by annoying you, though.”

You stare at him with your mouth wide open, completely shocked by what he is saying. You take a second to process what he just said, you reply, “Are you serious right now? Because Mat, I swear, if you’re messing with me right now to get a reaction, now is not the time and it would not be good for you.”

Mat frantically shakes his head. “No, no. I promise I’m being serious,” he runs his hand through his hair. “I guess what I was trying to say is that I like you a lot.”

You lay your head back down to think over what just happened in the last hour or so. “I’m dying, aren’t I? I’m hallucinating this. I’m losing my mind. You get hit by a puck in the face one time, and now, you’re losing your mind.”

Mat laughs at your dramatics, but quickly gathers himself to comfort you. “Hey, Y/N, I promise you’re not dying. You’re just fine, everything is fine, you just had to get stitches, and you’re going to be good to go home soon.”

Finally, after debating it a lot, he reaches out to run his hand over your hair, and surprisingly, you let him. After taking some deep breaths and calming down a bit, you say, “Okay, I’m okay. Sorry, I don’t know what happened there.” You shakily let out a laugh.

Mat still has a hand in your hair, and he smiles down at you. “It’s okay, all is good. Guess I probably could’ve waited to tell you all that, but I couldn’t after seeing you almost dying out there.”

“No, I’m glad you did. Honestly, I like you a lot, too. I think I’ve just been too annoyed at you to realize that. Maybe we both have just been flirting back at each other without realizing it,” you jokingly say.

“Maybe so, but truly, I’m glad you’re okay.” He runs a thumb over your cheek under the stitched up cut.

You both relish in that moment until the medical staff comes in. “Okay, you’re good to go, do you think you can drive back or do we need to call someone?”

“No, I think I’m okay to drive, and if not, I have someone to help me.” You thank them before hopping off the table to grab your bag.

Mat walks up beside you and places his hand on your lower back to steady you after seeing you trying to regain your balance. “Do you really think you can drive home by yourself?”

You turn your head to look at him and give him a grin. “Oh, I’m still a bit dizzy so no, but I know someone who can drive me though.” You give him a wink and hand him your keys.

“Me? You want me to drive you home?”

He’s not sure if he has died and went to Heaven. You laugh, “Yes, you! Now c’mon, I’m tired and I need someone to take care of me, so show me how caring you are, and take me home. We can go from there.” Mat didn’t have to think for a second longer as he followed right beside you to your car. Certainly not the night you thought would happen, but you can be glad something good came from it.

#mat barzal fic #mat barzal blurb #mat barzal imagines #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal #hockey imagines #hockey fics #nhlhockey fic #nhl imagines

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theemporium · 1 month

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mat and reader having a tradition? After every win they get a strawberry milkshake or something? something just between them? and maybe if reader cannot go with him, she gets someone to buy one ?

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

“I miss you.”

It hadn’t been the first time he had said it since you had called him after his game, and you doubted it would be his last either. But it made your heart swoon, nonetheless.

“I miss you too,” you murmured back, your cheek pressed against the pillow as you glanced at him on your phone. It was propped up on your bedside table, leaning against your lamp so you could lay comfortably in bed as you spoke. “But you guys are killing it on the roadie. Two wins, huh?”

His lips twitched. “Yeah, but they’d be better if you were in the crowd.”

“What, sitting at home decked out in Islander number thirteen merch wasn’t enough?” You teased, deciding to withhold the part where you ordered a shit ton of team merchandise from your boyfriend.

All in all, your relationship with Mat was still fairly new. Being a hockey player with an insane schedule wasn’t ideal for starting a new relationship, so despite knowing each other for the better part of a year, it took a few months before you decided to make it official.

And Mat had played away games since making it official, but this time it just hit harder.

Maybe it was because it was his longest roadie yet. Or maybe it was because you finally felt like you and Mat were starting to get into the swing of things, that natural flow that clicked when the relationship felt stable enough. Or maybe it was simply because you missed the boy, because your love for him was growing with each day.

But after getting so used to sleeping at each other’s apartment, the empty bed had been particularly upsetting to return to every night since he had been gone.

“It was more than enough, baby,” Mat replied with a fond smile on his face, thinking back to the photo you sent him of you bundled up on the couch with his jersey on. “But it feels wrong not celebrating wins the proper way.”

The proper way being with a cold, full-fat strawberry milkshake the two of you would get from a local diner—one that his trainers would definitely drop dead if they saw him stepping into. It was reserved only for wins, for a celebration between the two of you. And just like you, he knew it wasn’t the first time he won an away game and couldn’t share a milkshake with you, but it hit harder knowing that he couldn’t have it this time.

“Hm, what do you mean?”

His brows furrowed together in confusion. “What?”

“I think we are celebrating the proper way,” you replied with a nonchalant shrug, half-burying your face in your pillow to hide the grin growing on your face.

Mat’s confusion only grew and, much to your amusement, he looked partially offended. Almost like he couldn’t quite believe you had forgotten your shared tradition.

“I—” Mat started before he was cut off by the sound of someone knocking on his door.

He disappeared from the screen for a few moments and you used the time to set yourself up. You sat up on the bed, leaning back against the headboard and letting the duvet fall to your waist to expose one of his hoodies you had stolen from his wardrobe a few weeks ago. You waited for him to return, an eager smile on your face.

“Baby,” his voice was so sweet and fond as he returned to the camera, holding a milkshake in his hand with a cheesy grin on his face.

“Surprise!” You grinned, leaning over to pick up the milkshake that had been sitting out of shot since you had been on the phone to him. “It’s not the same as the diner but—”

“It’s perfect,” Mat finished for you, his cheeks looking a little rosier than before. “I can’t believe you set this up.”

“I wanted to celebrate properly with my boy to show him how proud I am,” you replied simply, watching as his expression brightened at the use of ‘my boy’.

“I can’t fucking wait to kiss you.”

“Me too, babe. Me too.”

#mat barzal #nhl #new york islanders #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal x you #mat barzal x y/n #mat barzal fic #mat barzal one shot #nhl x reader #nhl x you #nhl x y/n #nhl fic #nhl one shot

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barzysunflower · 3 months

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As a story request Since we see barzal at charity events when if he meets y/n there but she was a waiter serving she takes those gig sometimes to make extra cash but she serves some sleezy men who whistle at her and while she was surviving drinks barzal stands up with out see her above her by accident she spills the drinks on her self all the guys at the table yelling and her even her boss barzal helps her and apologizes but at the same times he’s like so mesmerizing by her but her boss ends up yelling at her telling her to go to the back while and mat just say it was his fault don’t blame her but the boss being a bitch says no it’s her fault bla bla but barzal trying to find her he thought it was over when he doesn’t see her anymore and he can’t just leave the charity he’s gotta stay Intill the end he lost all hope and felt bad for getting her in trouble but faith came true because since the players were the last to leave he sees her just waiting for her Uber he immediately goes to her and then… ending anyway you want :)

hii thank you for the request 🫶🏼 I hope you like this one!!

wc: 1.2k

once upon a time — mat barzal

It was a late summer evening and you strolled around the pier, enjoying the breeze and last moments of peace before you'd have to clock into work. You already had a long day of work behind you, but New York was expensive, so you took waitressing gigs at all kinds of fancy events to get some extra cash. While the money was great, those few hours were extremely stressful and sometimes the clientele you were serving could get on your nerves.

You were right to take those extra few moments looking at ocean, the horizon, to just daydream, as when you walked into event you could immediately tell it was going to be a bad night. But you sucked it up and went to work. Despite the new manager already yelling at everyone making you want to turn right back around when you walked in.

You were running around all night, serving food, taking plates away, and dodging older creepy men trying to hit on you. But it was part of your job to keep that polite smile on your face while also remaining invisible, so that's what you did.

It was later that night though, when things really escalated that had you evaluating whether the money you'd make that night was truly worth it. You were serving more drinks to probably the loudest table at the event, but honestly they were having the most fun and were the only table that hadn't pissed you off yet, when one of the guests stood up, pushing his chair right into you and spilling the tray of drink all over your- and himself.

"Oh my god! I am so sorry." The guy immediately apologized, scrambling to pick up the broken glass off the floor. A few seconds filled with shock and extreme awareness that the entire ballroom's attention was on you had you standing still, but you quickly bent down to help manage the mess.

"I'm so sorry." He apologized again.

"No, totally my bad. And please stop, that's my job," you cut in, still not looking up to meet his gaze.

"No, I didn't look before I got up. I'm so sorry." You finally looked up at the intriguing voice to look into beautiful green eyes. He stared back just as intensely as you did, both of you stopped shoving pieces of glass on to the serving tray. The rest of his face was just as beautiful, but you didn't have much more time to stare at him further as the angry voice of your manager cut through that little bubble.

"What the hell happened?"

You were the first one up, barely meeting the intense gaze of your manager. "I tripped. I'm sorry–"

"No," the green eyed beauty quickly interrupted. "It was totally my fault. I got in her way, I didn't look where I was going."

Your manager gave him an apologetic look, but he could hide the anger behind it. "No, it's her fault. She's to be invisible, meeting your needs. She should watch where she's going."

"No, really–” But his attempt was cut off again, you manager now apologizing to the table, to him, and waving over more staff to come clean up the mess. Then he turned to you with a furious look on his face that he kept hidden behind a fake smile.

“You. In the back. Now.” You flinched at his words, knowing it couldn’t lead to good ending. Tears welled up in your eyes. You were exhausted and overwhelmed and someone yelling at you for something that wasn’t your fault just added to your breaking point. But you wouldn’t break just yet. Not in front of this group. Not in front of the handsome stranger, who was still advocating for you to your manager – though useless – and shooting you apologetic looks. “Now!”

That’s when you finally moved, around the people cleaning the mess, walking as fast as possible away from the prying eyes of everyone in the room. In the kitchen, the other servers who definitely witnessed what happened came to your aid with some water and encouraging words, but they quickly went back to work when that beast of a manger came storming in after you.

To say that you were let go would be an understatement. He did not listen to a word of defense you tried to offer and instead turned your termination into a lecture for all of the staff on how not to do the job. No one spoke or rebelled his words, everyone including you just silently staring at him as he yelled. You stopped listening a while ago, fully knowing none of this was your fault and that there had to be something terribly wrong with him to fire you for one mistake.

When the manager’s speech was finally over and you were ordered to leave, you did so without hesitation. So you left, ran from this horrible day. Ran from this horrible job. The only thing haunting you as you ran were those beautiful green eyes.

***

“Then what happened?” The small girl curled up into your right asked, fighting a yawn.

“Yeah! What about the prince? Did he run after her?” You turned away from her to look into the eyes of your firstborn, her green eyes lighting up in excitement.

“He did,” you answered, not hiding your smile. “In fact, he was so anxious to catch up to her that he left the ball early, asking everyone in sight if they had seen her. All he wanted to do was apologize to her. It took him a while, but he did eventually find her outside, just as she was about to get into a car- a carriage. He leaped into traffic, stopping the girl just in time, but not without causing a bunch of passengers to angrily honk and yell in protest.” The two girls giggled at your dramatics.

“Well, it was worth it. She was so beautiful he couldn’t not go after her and do anything to talk to her.” The deep voice wrapped around your heart, warming it.

“Was?,” you playfully asked your husband, looking your eyes with his beautiful green ones that your daughter had inherited.

“Is. She still is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” You smiled at each other, both remembering when Mat caught up to you, out of breath and messed up hair from the wind. He rambled on for a while, apologizing for getting you in trouble and his adventure of finding out more about you and were you had gone, only stopping when you laughed at him calling your manager a brainless shithead. It was the prettiest laugh he’d ever heard and told you so. Your blushing only grew his own smile and you had no idea what came over you when you returned the compliment. He convinced you to stay and walk with him for a bit along the pier and you talked and talked and talked as if you had known each other for ages.

“Did they get married?,” your seven year old daughter asked.

“They did,” you answered, still smiling. “And they had three of the most beautiful children.”

You looked over the king sized bed with your family in it, Mat on his side with your five year old son fast asleep on top of him, your three year old daughter next to you and your oldest squished between you and Mat. And you thanked the lucky stars for that horrible job and Mat’s horrible lack of awareness of his surroundings.

#mat barzal #mathew barzal #mat barzal fic #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal imagine #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey fics #hockey imagine #nhl blurbs #new york islanders

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drewsbuzzcut · 3 months

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

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