#mat barzal fan fiction
Text
vibrant, saccharine, his ☼ (fwb!mat barzal x fwb!fem reader)
genre: filthy smut, fluff, angst with happy ending
summary: pretending is getting harder, for both of them. and after a hard roadie, mat’s not sure if he wants to pretend anymore.
words: 8.7k (WOAH)
warnings: cursing, excessive use of parentheses, friends with benefits arrangement, smut, unprotected piv, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, blood (reader bit lip too hard oops!), pet names (baby, sweetheart, pretty boy), reader is described as having sisters and a dog, food mention, idiots to lovers, misunderstood situation, reader uses she/her pronouns, and i think that’s it.
a/n: when i started this, i originally was just writing a blurb and then it turned into a full ass fic with a plot?? and fwb??? idk man, im nervy to post this since ive never published for nhlers before but oh whale! and ty to @eminems-skittles for reading this for me and checking it over 🤍 love u
“You played so good, baby.” She breathed, welcoming him home with open arms.
“Not good enough, apparently.” He responded, letting her fingers card through his raven locks. Soft, freshly cut. She loved when he grew it out, but yet again it was him, so anything worked.
She sighed, letting her thumb fall to his cheekbone, knowing what he was referring to. It had been the last stop of the road trip, he’d had a hatty and despite making it to OT, it wasn’t enough in the shootout.
He’d had to wait an entire flight and car ride afterwards to see her, only giving her a brief text when he got off the ice (“We lost. Had a hatty. Fucking Toronto.”) (like she hadn’t stayed up to watch the game) and another when he landed.
And after so long of whatever the two of them had going on, she’d known better than to try to send him some long and winded attempt at a pick me up message. She settled for just responding “I’ll be here.” She didn’t need to say it though, he knew she’d be there.
She always was.
To anyone else it would’ve been sad, how she waited up for him, late nights spent lonely with just her and her dog, as he jetted around North America. In her mind, he was no doubt giving himself away to whatever random puck bunny threw herself his way.
Despite this, she was loyal, even though she had her suspicions about what he did when they were apart. And frankly, it wasn’t a part of the “deal” that they had to be exclusive, and it was none of her business. But truthfully, after so long, she couldn’t count on some washed up juniors player to give her even a fraction of the satisfaction he had.
So, she did this whole routine, whatever this was. She stayed up late watching his games, sitting on her couch in his sweatshirt he left. She wouldn’t admit it out loud, but whenever she wore it, she liked to pretend.
Pretend that she was an obedient girlfriend wearing her loving boyfriends sweater. That as she sat curled up waiting on the corner of the beat up black sofa, 3 coffees in at approximately 1:37 am, she would be rewarded for her efforts come morning time.
That her and said loving boyfriend would lounge around together in bed (after he woke her up in the best way he knew how, showing her how grateful he was. Like I said, she loved when his hair was long enough to tug on, and even though she endlessly made fun of his patchy stubble, she couldn’t deny how delicious it felt burning between her thighs. Especially after they’d spent so long apart.) Then they’d go and grab late brunch, holding hands under the table as they sipped mimosas, which were Mat’s guilty pleasure only her and the waiter knew about, before heading home.
Maybe then they’d FaceTime his mom back in Coquitlam, an early riser with the 3 hour time difference. Mat had felt bad interrupting her morning routine, but she’d never pass up an opportunity to talk to her boy and the girl who she hoped was her future daughter in law.
After they got off the phone, she’d tell him how much she loved his mom, how her cheeks hurt from smiling so much. He’d tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, watching as she leaned into his touch.
“Missed you, Mat.” She’d say, closing her eyes.
“I missed you more.” He’d respond, his voice nearly a whisper. Her eyes would flutter open, and he’d recognize the look in them immediately. He felt his blood rush, and suddenly their proximity, which he’d never get used to, was very obvious.
“Oh yeah?” She asked. “I doubt that.”
He swallowed, his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip. Her eyes hungrily swept over them, wanting nothing more than to lean forward and capture them with her own.
But patience is a virtue, she supposed.
“Want me to prove it, pretty boy?”
Words failed him, and all he could do was nod. He relaxed into the sofa, watching as she dropped to her knees in front of him. Her hands were on either thigh as he fought the urge to lay his tired head back onto the beat up pleather behind him. It had been too long, he thought. And he’d be damned if he was going to miss out on seeing her do what he’d only imagined in the shower, or over the phone for the past 16 days.
She reached her hands up from the muscle of his thigh up to his tummy, her cold hands shocking him as she reached under his sweatshirt- the same one she’d been wearing before.
Her hands drifted, down, down, down, to the waistband of those damn Lululemon shorts she’d got him for Christmas. He held his breath, watching as they danced around where he needed her most and then-
The doorknob turns, and she’s brought back to reality. Sleep had almost claimed her, iced coffee left abandoned on the coffee table, a ring of condensation already drying on the glass. She attempts to smooth out her hair, hoping that her brief almost-nap hadn’t left her too disheveled.
Not that he’d care.
She stood to greet him as he opened the door, hockey bag, and garment bag, and duffle bag, and backpack, and- God, did he really need all that- and suitcase, dropped unceremoniously as he entered the threshold. He kicked the huge bag to the side, and it landed right under where her keys and her leash for her old mutt, Warrior, hung from the wall.
Above the leash hung a picture of her and her sisters, with her running shoes on the floor beneath it for easy access. They were nearly squished by the gear, and if it had been anyone else’s shit crushing her 160 dollar sneakers, she’d be angry. But the sight of his bag near her shoes was so weirdly domestic, she could’ve cried.
She, yet again, was snapped out of her fantasy by the closing of the heavy door, watching as the man in front of her shuffled forward, immediately allowing himself to be held by her. His head fell to her shoulder, and rather than the usual clash of teeth and shoving to get to her room, (they never went to never his place after a roadie. He needed to be away from the constant reminders of it all for awhile, just to be surrounded by her) she simply dropped a chaste kiss to his temple, letting her arm drop from his hair to his broad shoulders, squeezing once, twice, three times, on either one.
He stood up, and she led him to her room, though he knew the way well enough. Her hand in his felt nice, comforting, even, and he wasn’t going to complain. In the beginning of the arrangement the two of them had, touches like that had been normal. But as time went on, the barely there brushes and gentle caresses stopped all together.
He wanted to say something, wanted to ask her what was wrong, if it was something he did. But when he was off the ice, Mathew Barzal was not a man who liked to push his luck. So he didn’t. He let the touches slip away, and took what he could get from her.
Which right now, was toeing off his shoes, and crawling onto the plush comforter of her bed. It smelled like that sparkly ”fairy dust” shit from Lush he saw sitting on her bathroom counter once, cotton candy and bubblegum infiltrating his senses. That, and her favorite floral perfume he was all too familiar with on her pillow. A combination of scents he usually would find too much, sickly-sweet. But it was her, and that alone made it the most soothing aroma he’d ever known.
Initially when he’d gotten off the ice, the adrenaline had been pumping, and his anger had been rampant. All he’d wanted was to get home to her, have his way with her. To have an outcome he could control.
He’d kept himself relatively calm in the locker room, not having any outbursts towards Ilya, or anyone for that matter. If any of the guys had noticed he was uncharacteristically quiet, they didn’t say anything.
That is, until the bus ride to the airport.
He had been typing out his text to her, (Hatty, lost in OT, Toronto, you know the one), when he had felt a pair of peering eyes. Sitting in the back of the bus, he’d thought he’d done well to avoid such glances, but apparently not.
“Y’know, you shouldn’t be sulking so much.” A certain French-Canadian spoke, the brunette man’s tired eyes lingering over Mat’s hunched over form.
If there was one thing he didn’t need right now, it was more pep talks from Tito. He’d had more than his fill in the locker room. And though he loved the guy, he didn’t need to be told again how he “did everything right” and had a ”killer game”.
Because he knows, and that’s partly why he’s so mad.
Partly. As the other part is the fact that he wants more than anything to come back to NY to her arms. He was exhausted at this point, and rather than having his way with her, he now just wanted to be welcomed home into those ridiculously cozy sheets. He wanted her to light up all those overpriced candles she loved so much from Bath and Bodyworks, and for Warrior to snuggle up by him, stinky dog breath be damned. He wanted her to turn on ”Miracle” in the back as white noise, and laugh as she repeated all the lines from memory. (He may be Canadian, but he can appreciate a heart warming story told by Kurt Russell when he sees one.)
More than anything, though, he wanted her. And not just for an hour or two before he inevitably dragged himself out of those silky sheets that felt heavenly on his back, leaving her sleeping beside him. She looked peaceful in those moments, and he often wondered what she dreamt of. If she was dreaming of him as he did of her.
Bottom line was, Mathew was the victim of a series of unfortunate events. And the man to his left could recognize that it wasn’t just the hockey that was bothering him. (Though, that whole situation did suck pretty bad, he’d admit.)
So when Anthony told him he shouldn’t be sulking, he flashed him a tight lipped smile and a nod, before looking out the window at the Toronto sunset. The oranges and pinks were stunning, and more than anything their vibrancy reminded him of her. The smile she’d give him in her post-orgasm glow, or of the orange blossom on the bottle of perfume on her vanity. Beauvillier’s gaze never faltered, though, recognizing the deep train of thought his close friend was experiencing.
The screen of his phone had begun to darken, the draft of his message just barely visible. Tito’s eyes quickly shifted from the screen and back up to Barzy, opening his mouth and pausing momentarily.
“Who’re you texting?”
Mat quickly turned off the device, the “click” sounding out in the quiet bus cabin, most of the Islanders players catching some shut eye or watching that new Game of Thrones spin off.
Personally, Mat didn’t get the appeal.
“Nobody, just… a friend I’m visiting tonight when we get back.”
Anthony’s eyebrows went up, making a face of understanding as he slowly nodded three times.
“A friend, huh?”
Mathew nods, taking his bottom lip between his teeth and letting it go. “Yup.” He adds softly for good measure, popping the p.
“You visiting a friend after a game like that, this late, hm?” Another pause. ”Must be an important friend.”
“Yeah.” His voice is soft again, compassion coming across his features and he thinks of her again.
“Well“, Anthony starts, popping in his earbuds and opening his phone to his Music app. “I’d say whatever’s going on with this friend seems worth talking to her about.”
Mat‘s head snaps up, and he scoffs, shaking his head.
“I didn’t say that it was a she-“
“You didn’t have to, buddy.” Tito winks in the most annoyingly-Tito way, and chuckles to himself. He then lays his head back onto the navy material behind him. Mat “hmph”s to himself, doing the same. He turns his phone back on again, going to the chat between the two of them. The still blinking cursor seems like it’s mocking him as he runs a hand over his face, hitting send.
If there’s gonna be any deep, emotional shit, it can wait until he’s not 2500 miles away.
7 hours later when he finally crashes through her front door, he swears the relief he feels mixed with the sense of dread it all might be over in an hour, gives him whiplash. But nonetheless, she welcomes him in, and she feels like home.
Warrior watches from the couch, his tail lazily wagging as he observes his owner greeting the man who occasionally slips him bacon from his Starbucks sandwich. His old man (old dog?) body doesn’t find the arrival of the hockey player worthy of leaving his nest on the sofa, as to him that’s all Mathew Barzal is. The bringer of bacon.
To Warrior’s owner, though, he was so much more.
The trek to the bedroom felt like it took an eternity, and as he laid on her bed, he couldn’t help but wonder if it would be a bad idea to push his luck for once. Risk ending it all to gain everything.
She laid down next to him, and he shifted, going from laying with his arms crossed under his head, to one next to her head, the other keeping him stable from his position on top of her.
Her hand crept up to push an unruly lock out of his eyes, and she leaned forward, and he met her halfway. They paused briefly, taking each other in after so long, before finally closing to distance.
He tasted warm, like cinnamon and something she couldn’t place, and she wondered if at the airport he’d gotten one of those pretzels she knew he liked so much. To compliment his psychopath reminiscent black coffee, of course.
His hand went from where it had been cradling her face down to rest on her hip. The soft touch elicited a whimper, and at that he pulled away, resting his forehead against hers.
She recognized that something was off, swimming around in that pretty little head of his. A small frown etched its way onto her face, and she lifted his chin up so he had no choice but to look at her.
“What’s wrong, Mat?”
He took in a shaky breath, looking over to his left, where the TV was on some random wallpaper, a sunset, he realizes. He scoffs, looking back at her.
“Can you just- can we- can I- fuck.” He mutters, slowly falling down so his body weight is nearly on top of her.
“Can you just… hold me?”
She swears she’s never heard him sound so broken.
“Yeah, baby, ’course. C’mere.” She replies softly, allowing him to fully rest on her. It was a miracle that he didn’t fully break down right there, at the feeling of her fingertips dancing over his skin, under his pushed up shirt. His nose was cold against her neck as he dragged it up against her to come to her cheek, pressing a kiss there. His eyes never opened, afraid that if they did, it would all just be another elaborate fantasy he’d created to pass the time.
“Is this a good idea?” Came her voice, cutting through the silence.
He sniffles. “What do you mean?”
“This. Us.” She says, not able to meet his gaze where he’s lifted his head.
“We’re going to get hurt. More than we already have.”
Oh. Oh, fuck this was happening right now. Mat sat up, feeling like a scared teenage boy. Damn you and the way you read people, Beauvillier. Maybe this would’ve been easier from 2500 miles away.
“We don’t have to.”
“What other option do we have?” She said, sounding defeated, like she already knows her answer and she doesn’t like it. “I-I can’t keep doing this no strings attached shit. Not when you do this. Not when you come here all beat up like some sad puppy.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. And he was.
“Don’t be. I should’ve known this would happen.” Her voice was soft, her eyes distant.
“That what would happen?” He questioned. She looked at him like he had two heads.
“That you’d leave, Mat. That this whole pretending bullshit wouldn’t be enough for me.”
He leaned forward again, catching her off guard.
“I’m not leaving you. I’d never leave you.”
She looked away briefly, mentally cursing herself for being so emotional as tears began to well up in her eyes. He fell to her side, forcing her to meet his gaze.
“Do you really want this?” She asked, the tears rolling down her face illuminated a hue of pink from the salt lamp on the bedside table. Mathew reached out a hand, dragging his thumb over the droplet. He hated that she was crying, but fuck, she sure looked pretty while doing it.
His answer came without thought, he’d done enough of that on his way over.
“Yes. I want you in every way, if you’ll have me.”
A small smile came onto the corners of her face, and she nodded, shortly at first, but more exaggerated as they started laughing, a small “yeah?” escaping from Mathew. She responded with the same, and he took that as his sign to reach forward, closing the distance between them.
And like all the times before, they fell into their routine, her hands going down to his hips, lifting the gray material of his shirt over his head. He returned the favor, the two of them moving in sync as she lifted her hips and he gently slid off her shorts. He ran his palms along her bare thighs and she shivered at the feeling, a reaction that didn’t go unnoticed by Mathew.
“I missed you, y/n.” He admitted, running a hand through his, now, unruly hair.
Another vibrant smile came across her face, easing whatever nerves Mat had left over from his confession.
“I missed you more, Mathew.”
He shook his head, dipping down to leave sloppy kisses on her neck. Taken aback, she let a shaky breath escape. He pulled back, satisfied with the response he’d pulled from her.
“Not possible.”
In a moment of boldness (and a slight hope to allow a fantasy to come to life) she challenged him.
“Prove it, then.”
His eyes darkened, then, and he surged forward. Her remaining clothes, which was just his sweatshirt and a flimsy cami, were gone in an instant. She was left in just a pair of black undies, Mat nearly cumming on the spot at the sight, like he’s some horny teenager. His apparel soon joined the growing pile on the floor, as she made a remark about how it wasn’t fair he was still so covered.
She shamelessly raked over his naked form, save for the black boxers, with his firm muscles, sore from the roadie, prominent as ever. She might’ve been drooling, she wasn’t sure. He smirked, the effect he had on her not lost to him.
The two began to kiss again, and there was no other way to describe it other than that it just felt right.
Mathew wasted no time, allowing his hand to trail down and cup her clothed heat, his thumb passing over her clit and past her entrance with a feather light touch. She shivered, her hips lifting up to chase the brief sensation. He pulled her panties to the side, teasing her entrance with his middle finger.
It was immediately covered in her slick, as was the black fabric he’d moved aside. It made him groan just from the sensation alone, making her chuckle at his behavior. Her laugh soon was cut off as he sunk the finger in, giving her no time to adjust, not that she needed it with how ready she was for it, before adding another.
His palm just barely grazed her begging clit as he pumped in and out slowly. And as she continued to lift her hips trying to feel him deeper, push his hand closer to her clit, she fully expected him to push her down and put her in her place.
But this whole thing was about showing him how much he missed her, how much he appreciated her. To show her that he was staying. And him staying meant that he’d have plenty of chances in the future to be an insufferable tease, but right now wasn’t one of those times.
“Matty, please-“ it was more of a breathy whine, not intelligible to an untrained ear. But thankfully for her, that wasn’t Mat.
“You want more, baby?” He questioned, knowing the answer. She nodded, hair splayed around her like a halo on the pillow. She was still illuminated from the TV screen and the salt lamp, making her look like an angel of sorts, not of this world.
“Look at me then, sweetheart. Wanna see that I’m makin’ you feel good.”
Her eyes that met his were glazed over and doe like, and it melted Mat’s insides at just one look. He did his best to push down the mushy feeling that arose, before realizing he didn’t have to anymore. He could feel as sickeningly in love as he wanted, no consequences.
“You’re so beautiful, baby. So needy, fuckin’ perfect girl.” He remarked, adding in a third finger. She let out a borderline pornographic cry, and Mat picked up his pace. His gaze only faltered from her face, contorting in pleasure, back to where he was pumping in and out of her, unable to resist the urge to watch in amazement.
Though her legs were flailing, going from propped up to sliding down and spread, rustling the comforter, she somehow had enough mind to reach a hand down. She attempted to run tight circles around her clit, but not before her hand was pinned to her side by the center above her,
“No, baby. Lemme.”
His range of motion was wider and his thrusts harder as he curled his fingers to perfectly hit that spot inside her that made her see stars, fully trailing his hand over her sex. He repeated the action again, and again, and again- and fuck, she didn’t know how long she’d go on like this but she never wanted the feeling to stop.
He felt her tighten around him, and he picked up his pace, knowing she was almost there.
“Mat!” she managed to get out between strangled moans and panting breaths. He leaned down, kissing below her ear on the one spot he knew drives her crazy. She was halfway thinking, well, less than halfway with her state at the moment, that he would cruelly pull his hand away as she reached her peak. So she clamped her thighs together in an attempt to trap him, subconsciously more than not.
It didn’t stop him from grinding his palm against her like he had been, leaning down to capture her lips with his in a searing kiss.
Everything at once was just so much, the obscene sounds coming from both their mouths and her wet heat, the feeling of Mathew’s bare skin on top of her, the feeling of warmth radiating from his body, and oh my God, after so long it’s fucking finally happening-
He felt as her chest seized and she pulled away from the kiss, her head slamming back before falling to the side. She cried out, her orgasm hitting her like nothing had before.
He found her lips in the chaos beneath him, his hand parting her thighs as she went lax, lazily pumping in and out as she rode out her high. Her slick coated the inside of her thighs, and Mat pulled away momentarily and she whined, like the little brat she was allowing herself to be.
He only smirked, leaning down to kiss on her collarbone, letting his tongue sweep over the seemingly shimmering expanse of skin before him. He moved further down, savoring the taste of her, how it felt to be so close to her. No guards up, no shields, no screening involved.
She moved her ring clad hands to run fingers through his locks, that fucking smile coming across her face. He looked up from where his hands were holding either side of her waist, his fingers digging into the soft flesh just enough to not make it hurt, but to say “I’m here. I’m not leaving.” His chin rested above her bellybutton, and he felt suddenly seen, bashful almost. He continued his trail down in a half assed attempt to hide his face, her breath hitching when he made it to her mound.
Her breath barely returned to her as he skipped over where she thought he was headed, instead opting to take her right leg over his shoulder, moving down the expanse of it to her ankle. He brought his eyes to meet hers, and a tender hand ran up and down the distance of it. He kissed the inside of her ankle, making his way up to the skin where her thigh met her already aching sex.
He lightly nudged his nose against the area, before attaching his lips. He started sucking on the skin there, licking her clean. Satisfied, he moved to the other side, beginning his good work.
“Mat,” she broke her silence, her voice splintered and low, “don’t tease. Please.”
He raised his eyebrows, seemingly in jest.
“I think we’re a little far gone from teasing, eh?” He asked, and truthfully, one mind blowing orgasm later, they were.
She chuckled, rolling her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever hotshot.”
“New nickname?” He questioned. “I like it.” He huffed, returning to his place between her legs. “But I fucking love this pussy, baby.”
And with that, he dove in. He immediately groaned at what he had found. (Which, obviously, caused her to tug at that perfect head of hair, eliciting another groan.)
If possible, she had become even wetter with the mix of his spit and her nectarine juices. It dripped down his chin, and he wanted to stay there forever. He’d found solace there, he thought. No Maple Leafs, no Tito, no hatty that meant jackshit in the end.
Just her and her consummate being. Vibrant, saccharine. His.
He wasn’t sure how long he spent drawing her closer and closer to the edge, but somewhere between repeated chants of praises and whatnot, he’d slipped.
“Fucking love this cunt, fucking love you-“
He hadn’t realized what he said, and if he had, he didn’t seem to care. But his words alone were enough to rip an unassuming orgasm from her. She didn’t allow herself long enough to think about if he meant to say it or not, or even to ride out the aftershocks rolling through her nerves. She grabbed him by the shoulders, forcing him away from her glistening cunt and up to where she connected their lips.
A small sound of surprise, not reluctance, escaped from where they were joined. Her hands came to cradle either side of his face, and Mat thinks that he might’ve cried from the tender action. He wasn’t sure, but he wasn’t going to ask. Hey, it’d been a long day.
“You mean it?”
He realized what he had said, then, eyes wide and somehow his face even more flushed than before. He considered lying, like when Tito had asked who he was texting and he’d said a friend.
But where would that leave him, he wondered?
“Yeah.”
“Yeah, I did.” He added after a beat of silence.
And in those few moments nothing had seemed scarier.
Not when he was 18, getting skipped over by teams in the draft, and that voice in the back of his head had told him that, somehow, everyone had collectively decided to skip Mathew Barzal. Not when he was 19 playing in his first game for the Isles, having to follow up Auston Matthews first NHL game where he had four goals. Four. Fuck.
No, all that was topped by this. By the same fear he’d had earlier when he’d been on the bus, or when he’d arrived at her apartment.
But all of that fear was dissolved in a second after her laugh sounded out in the small bedroom, her eyes crinkling at the edges. She pulled him down towards her, and the sound of her laughter pulled a radiant smile from the hockey player that he felt like hadn’t seen the light of day in a long time.
She rolled over on top of his chest, leaning forward and throwing her arms around his neck. His chain was glinting, now, in the light she had previously been bathed in, and it caught her eye as it rested against his milky complexion.
“You looooove me.” She regarded in a sing-song voice, and Mat rolled his eyes despite the smile growing on his face. She leaned down, and Mathew’s grip on her bare hips tightened, all too aware of the wet spot left on his stomach from her leaking sex.
She mirrored his previous movements down his chiseled body, a regular Adonis in his own right. She left open mouthed kisses, the wet patches from them adding to the thin sheen that covered his body. She made her way down to his boxers, the obvious tent making her stifle a laugh. He caught it though, of course, and rolled his eyes for what seemed like the millionth time.
“Laugh it up, babe. Laugh at my misery.” He commented, to which she only shook her head.
“Patience is a virtue, Mathew.”
“You’re one to talk.”
Well, he had a point there.
So rather than talk, she decided she’d put her mouth to good use. She pulled down his boxers at a painstakingly slow rate, watching as his cock slapped up against his stomach. Her mouth watered at the sight, the tip red and weeping, begging to be attended to. He kicked off the boxers, paying no mind to how they slipped onto the floor, forgotten. She didn’t either, as she was sure he had to have some extra in one of his gazillion bags sitting in her entry way.
Her nails scratched down his stomach, angry red lines puffing up and decorating around the expanse of his skin. They were accompanied by freckles and marks and scars that she could have mapped together with her eyes closed. She knew Mathew like the back of her hand. And with that, came knowing how to make him come undone in her hands.
She started leaving small kisses at the base of his shaft, before swiping the bead of precum from his head down to the rest of him. She pumped her hand a few times, and Mathew let out a strangled moan. She thought he couldn’t get any louder, feeling bad for her neighbors at whatever hour in the night it was, but she was quickly proven wrong.
She licked a long stripe from the bottom to his tip, before taking as much of him into her mouth as she could. She bobbed her head a few times, jacking off whatever she couldn’t fit with her hands. She hollowed her cheeks, and the rise and fall of Mathew’s chest quickened. The sound he let out was animalistic, and it sent another wave of arousal through her body. She moaned involuntarily, and the feeling caused Mathew to buck his hips.
“You’re doing so good, baby. ‘M not gonna last with you going at me- shit- like that.”
He brought a large hand down to the side of her face, lightly stroking her cheek. It was a moment of wholesomeness that reminded them what they were now, what he had said.
Mat could tell she was tired, her pace decreasing. The look in her eyes never changed, though. And as he went to speak to tell her it was okay, and she didn’t have to (and because since it had been so long, he was scared he’d bust his load if she wasn’t careful), she pulled off.
A string of saliva followed, and the sight looked like a thumbnail of a shitty porno. Her eyes were droopy and glazed over, and Mat’s hypothesis was proven correct.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. You don’t have to finish. Let me take care of you.” He repeated his sentiment from earlier. She only shook her head, continuing to jack him off with her hand. Oh. He thought. That’s not what I was expecting.
“S’okay, Matty. Wanna make you feel good.”
She ran her thumb over his tip again, her glassy and swollen bottom lip hanging ajar as she concentrated. The moans he was letting slip free could only be described as pathetic, the 190 pound hockey player putty in her hands.
“I’m gonna cum if you don’t, God, baby, shit! I-If you don’t stop.”
And then she pulled her hand off, and he let out a quick breath at the momentary relief, if that was even the right word. But it was short lived, and she managed to hoist herself up, dragging her folds along his cock, before stabilizing herself with hands on his chest. He slid inside of her, and the sounds they both let out echoed off her walls.
She started moving, and then it was “You’re fuckin’ amazing, you know that? So fuckin’ amazing. My girl, my perfect girl.” He rambled, the events of just that day alone scrambling his mind trying to keep up. Similarly to how she felt earlier, everything was just too much for the poor man. She felt like Heaven around him, and he watched in awe from below her as she moved, enamored by the woman he loves.
As she became more and more tired, her movement slowed, reduced to her grinding herself down on his cock. Mat was barely hanging on, trying to make it last as long as possible. He could tell she was close too, as she squeezed him like a vice, and put her energy into picking up her pace.
“Fuck, Matty. Feels s’good. Love you- shit! I love you so much, baby.” She told him, her eyes closed and her face screwed up as she chased her high. But something snapped in Mathew at her confession, and with a quick “fuck” under his breath, he flipped the two of them without ever leaving her.
He was relentless.
He slammed in and out, and at the sudden change in position and pace, she was blindsided. She thrashed around him, her hands everywhere at once. Her hair, his hair, grasping at his shoulders, scratching down his back. She settled for his biceps, as his hands were planted. One on the right side of her head, the other gripping her hip bone so hard, she was sure it’d bruise.
“It’s only ever been you, baby. I promise you.”
“Shit, Mat!” She cried, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. She loosely draped her legs around his middle, allowing him to reach new depths within her. He was fucking her senseless, and they fucking loved it.
“It’ll only ever be you. I love you. Fuck, I love you so much, Y/n.” His hair hung in his eyes as he fought to keep them open. He shook it out of his eyes, wanting to see her as she came in all her glory.
“Love you, Mat. So much, baby. You have no idea.”
His pelvis snapped harder against her, just barely reaching up and grazing her clit in the most exquisite way. The rope in her stomach began to tighten for the third time that night, so close to breaking she could almost taste it.
Actually, she could taste it, she realized. She had been biting down so hard on her bottom lip she could taste the metallic tang on her tongue, and fuck, it was all the more delectable.
“Mat!” It was another exclamation, followed by more babbles. “‘S too much, Matty, can’t do it.” Her voice was small, and despite the nature of the statement, Mat felt his heart flutter.
He shook his head. “Yes, you can, baby. I know you’re tired, but you can do it, Y/n. You’ve got another one in you sweetheart, pull through for me. I’ve got you.”
And never one to disappoint, especially not her Mathew, she did.
She came, and she came hard. But it wasn’t dramatic the way you’d think it’d be, at least not outwardly. Her breathing stopped, her toes curled, and her nails dug into the skin on Barzy’s arms. It wasn’t accompanied by a loud scream, or a drawn out, high pitched moan. It was a breath of relief that left her when she came, her head falling to the side and her eyes closing. A quiet moan of Mat’s name, and she was clamping down on him.
The sweet way his name fell off her tongue, mixed with how she was so damn tight around him as she came, and he was done for. It triggered his own orgasm, and he felt the same feeling of peace wash over him that she had as he spilled into her. He fucked her through it, soft thrusts calming whatever aftershocks they both were experiencing. She had gone limp under him, her eyes opening as she gave him the sweetest smile he’d ever seen.
He stayed in her, lowering himself onto his side, then maneuvering them so she was laying on him. They were a cliché and they knew it, but they couldn’t seem to care. A few moments passed in comfortable silence, before it was broken by Mathew’s scratchy post-sex voice. Swoon.
“So,” he started. She raised a brow, wondering where he was going with this.
“You looooove me, too, then?” He mimicked her tone from earlier, and they broke out in a fit of laughter as she slapped his arm and rolled her eyes.
“Yeah, yeah. I guess you’re alright.” She feigned annoyance, propping herself up on her right arm as she faced the man she loved. Mat scoffed, blowing a strand of hair from his forehead. “Just alright? You’re crazy, lady.”
“But you love me.”
Not a beat passed before “I do.”
She smiled softly, lifting up a hand to run a finger along his jaw. He caught it with his own, never breaking eye contact as he kissed her palm. Again, swoon.
“I know.” She responded, wanting to stay in that moment forever. But, she knew that if she stayed where she was too long, she’d more than likely fall asleep in record time. So, she pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth, which he turned to catch before she could go, pulling her back for a “real” kiss at his protest.
A petulant child, that’s what he is.
She pressed one more to his lips for good measure, before pulling himself off of him. They both let out disgruntled sounds at the sudden losses, and it took all her energy to sit up on the edge of her bed. She felt a strong jaw on her shoulder, and she leaned into it.
“Where you goin’? Leaving me all alone isn’t very nice.” She could hear the frown in his voice, and even though she knew he was joking, it tugged on her heartstrings that little bit.
“Gotta pee.” She said, standing up and walking towards the connecting bathroom. “Sorry baby, no UTIs for me.”
The frown stayed cemented on his face.
“You should be grateful,” she threw over her shoulder, shutting the door. “No UTIs, more fucking, yeah?”
He chuckled at her bluntness, deciding to go and get her some water and maybe a snack. Shit, he didn’t know. What was he supposed to do? Usually when they fucked before, her or Mat would be out the door as soon as possible, still trying to ward off those pesky feelings. But now, he was allowed to feel said pesky feelings, and he’d be damned if he fucked it up.
So, snack. And water? Yeah, water, for sure. He was hungry and thirsty, why wouldn’t she be. He had no idea the way around her kitchen, nor how to, er, actually make anything, so this would be rough. But, first, a pit stop.
He would have walked butt-ass naked into her kitchen, really, but then he remembered Warrior was out there and he didn’t have a need to traumatize that dog any further than he already was.
(It was one time, okay? He didn’t know she had a dog, he’d been asleep on his bed by the TV when they’d gotten to her place. And at the time, Mat was too preoccupied to notice.)
He looked around on the floor for the offending clothing item, slightly grossed out when he did finally find them. It was only for a minute, tops, is what he told himself, as he pulled on the boxers from earlier in the night.
He tiptoed, for literally no apparent reason, through the dark apartment until he found the bag he was looking for. He grabbed what he needed from it, struggling with the zipper while trying to close it, before giving up. On his way back to her room, he gave Warrior a nod and smile, and he swore the mutt gave one back. Okay, actually, on second thought, he remembered the clock on her microwave saying it was 3:18 AM, so, maybe he didn’t.
It was late and he just had the best sex of his life with the woman he loves. Give him a break. So what if he’s delusional and thinks he can communicate with dogs? At least he’s pretty.
When he gets to her room, he pulls on the newer, clean, pair of boxers, setting the other pair he grabbed from his bag on the bed for her when she got out of the bathroom, along with an Islanders shirt that he’d secretly always wanted to see her in. Too soon? Maybe. But after so long yearning for everything domestic and wholesome and good that he was convinced he didn’t deserve with her, he was indulging a little bit. So sue him.
His next stop, snacks. And water, can’t forget the water.
The water was easy enough, he got lucky. He grabbed her “emotional support cup” as she’d called it before when she thought he wasn’t listening, and went over to the fridge. He got a few ice cubes and put them in, and then went over to her Brita. He stood there, pressing down on the little lever, watching the steady stream of water into the cup. It was almost laughable, how he stood there in the dead silence, concentrating so hard. He was determined not to somehow do something wrong, even though it was just pouring a cup of water. Cute.
He checked the pantry once the cup was full, with the lid safely screwed on top. The rustling about caught the attention of Warrior, who hopped down from where he’d been on the couch, moseying on over.
Mat, who still was slightly wary of Warrior, despite the fact the dog would cause him no harm, shook his head at the mutt.
“Sorry, buddy. I don’t have anything for you.”
He turned his head and gave him puppy dog eyes, pulling out all the stops. Mat sighed, looking back to the pantry. He saw a box of Milkbones, and looked back to Warrior, who was egging him on. (They’re telepathically connected, remember?)
He reached in the box, pulling one out, and tossing it down. Warrior gratefully accepted, taking his treat and waltzing off to his bed to chow down. Mat looked in the pantry, going to close the box, when he sees it, his saving grace.
White bread, hallelujah.
He can do toast. Mathew Barzal is a totally capable 25 year old man who can make toast. So, he takes the bag, going over to the toaster. And-
One look at all those fancy buttons, and he’s tapped out.
Okay, it’s okay, he can remember seeing a vending machine on his way into her apartment. Yeah, he remembers her telling him about having to sign off on some HOA form for it, even though she was just renting. Apparently, her landlord hadn’t signed, which made it her job. Whatever, that’s irrelevant.
He figured that there wouldn’t be anybody out in her hallway at 3:23 AM, so he grabbed his coat with his wallet, shrugging it on over his bare back. His slides were somewhere in his hockey bag and the last thing he wanted to do was stink up her whole place by opening that Pandora’s box. So, barefoot it is.
He does his best to sneak out the apartment, leaving the door ajar as he makes the short walk to the vending machine, grateful his search was over. He let out a long sigh as he stood, wondering what to get her.
For himself he decided on a bag of cool ranch Doritos, and a bag of those tiny cookies. For her, he racked every corner of his brain for potential options, before realizing how long he’s taking, and how long he’d been gone. So, not wanting to waste any more time, he elected for one of everything.
He punched in the numbers and paid, attempting to grab them from the machine. Trying to pick up the few that had fallen, he leaned down. His attention was called elsewhere by the ”click!” of a door a few units down. His head snapped to the source of the sound.
“You’ve got to be shitting me.” He muttered under his breath upon what he saw.
A man probably not much older than himself, suitcase and backpack in tow, donned in, you guessed it, a New York Islanders hoodie a lá number 13.
The man had yet to notice the star player down the hall from him, and Mat was considering just making a run for Y/n’s place. But either way, he would have to go past the man, or the man would have to go past Mat to get to the elevator. Maybe he’d take the stairs? He hoped. Shit, who was he kidding, he’s not taking the stairs.
Starting his walk over, the unnamed Islanders fan lifted his head, stopping in his tracks. His jaw dropped, and if it wasn’t purely because of being in the presence of Mat Barzal, he had a hunch what it was.
Said hunch, was that it was due to the fact Mat Barzal was standing in front of him, in an apartment complex definitely not boujee enough for him to be living in, at 3:25 in the morning, naked, except for boxers and some fancy trench coat, holding several bags of snacks.
Mat would’ve laughed at the guys face, but he thought he wasn’t quite in the position to do so.
“Hey, man. How’s it going?” And a stupid bro nod, was all Mathew could manage.
-
While he was facing that debacle, Y/n was having one of her own.
After she’d gone to the bathroom, she decided to try to do her nighttime routine, too. She put on her robe from where it had been hanging in her bathroom, beginning her little routine.
When she emerged 10 minutes later, Mat was nowhere to be seen.
His bags were still by the door, albeit one of them hastily thrown open. Was he leaving and had gotten some clothes and an Uber? Did he have last minute regrets? The door to her place was left open, and an overwhelming sadness began to take over her system. As the tears began to well up, she looked over to Warrior, only to notice him chewing on… a milkbone? How the hell did he get a milkbone?
She sniffled, wiping her sleeve under her nose. She sat down on her couch, looking at where her iced coffee from earlier was still sitting, ¾ of the way empty. The tears started to flow freely again after that, and she stood up, deciding that she should at least shut the door. She didn’t need to deal with a robbery, too.
As she stood and turned, she was met with a very discombobulated and very underdressed Mat trying to shove his way through the door.
“Have a good flight, man. Enjoy Miami!” Mat called over his shoulder to what sounded like her neighbor Gian, based off of the “Thanks bro, good luck this season!” she heard back.
She slapped a hand over her mouth, trying to not bust out laughing at the sight in front of her. Hearing her snickering, he looked up gesturing to the bags in his arms.
“Hungry?” He asked, the smile on his face falling when he saw the red around her eyes. He dropped all the snacks on the couch to his right, making his way over to where she stood.
“Hey, hey, why’re you crying? What’s wrong sweetheart?” He questioned, and his sincerity made her smile widely.
“Nah, I’m all good, don’t worry about it. Just thought you’d left, that’s all…” A pause. “But I see now that you just had a case of munchies, apparently.”
He wrapped his arms around her shoulders pulling her towards his chest. His chin rested on her head, and she closed her eyes, inhaling his scent.
“No, baby. God, no, I’m not leaving. I just wanted to do this whole thing right, and I thought you might be hungry, and I tried to make toast- your toaster is really complex by the way,”
She pulled away from him as he rambled, her smile reaching her eyes.
“And I filled your water and set out clothes for you and I really did try, baby. I didn’t mean to fuck anything up, really.”
She giggled again, taking hold of the shoulders of his jacket, shrugging it off. She folded it over the back of a barstool, then turned back towards Mat.
“And Gian?”
“Oh yeah, he’s cool. Ran into him in the hallway and introduced myself. Going to visit some family in Miami.”
She raised an eyebrow, nodding her head in understanding. She stepped closer, wrapping her arms around his middle.
“So, am I gonna have to compete with him for your attention now whenever you come over?”
He reciprocated the action, one hand coming up to rest on her chin.
“I mean, he’s gonna be gone for two weeks, but after that…” he shrugged, trailing off. She hummed, and he smiled at her, leaning forward. He searched her eyes for any remaining upset, unable to find any, before he pressed his lips to hers. It was sweet and gentle, with not a hint of rush or fervor.
When they pulled apart, she was smiling again. Her hands found their way back to his neck.
“And baby, you’re amazing. You didn’t fuck up anything at all, I promise.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.” She whispered, leaning in again to connect their lips. She let her tongue sweep over his bottom lip, biting down just barely before pulling away. She pushed down the sleeves of her robe just a bit, exposing her shoulders. Y/n took his hand, and started walking backwards, letting it slowly slip out of hers as she did.
“Come on, hotshot. Come to bed. Snacks will still be there in the morning.”
She smiled again briefly, before walking towards her room, the robe slipping down as she went. Mat stood watching her in total awe, glued in place, until he was knocked out of his trance.
“Hurry up! And lock the door, too, please!”
He had never obliged to anything quicker in his life.
(And as for the snacks, they were not still there in the morning, thanks to a certain mutt who managed to rip open all the packets on the couch. The next morning was spent at the vet, who had told them Warrior would be fine, just fat. The vet had only said this, though, after Mat had consoled a crying Y/n, who was under the impression he was going to be poisoned.
The rest of the day after that? Making up for lost time.)
FIN.
YO idk if that was good or not i kind of feel like i imagined writing the entire thing and it was a fever dream. but. anyway! if you liked it, be sure to reblog <3 thank u i love u! go eat some protein and drink some water.
xx, hj
#mat barzal x reader#mat barzal smut#mat barzal imagine#mat barzal x reader smut#mat barzal fluff#mat barzal comfort#mat barzal x reader fluff#mat barzal x fem reader#mat barzal x y/n#mathew barzal x reader#mathew barzal imagine#mat barzal fic#mat barzal fanfiction#mat barzal fan fiction#nhl x reader#nhl imagine#nhl smut#bro i fr fr projected abt my ex bf in this SO HARD#LMFAOAOOA#but. anyway.
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Ello could I request a blurb with Nico or Mat barzal of them being in a long distance relationship with the reader and they attend their uni graduation by surprising them? Thank u in advance!! :)
A/N: I hear the Mat girls need some more crumbs, so let’s go with Barzy!
You tell yourself not to look for him as you walk into the large arena with the rest of your college. Mat isn’t here. That is your reward for hustling your butt off and graduating a semester early. You graduate in the middle of hockey season when your boyfriend can’t be there to support you.
You know Mat feels awful about it. He’s demanded every video and picture from your parents and siblings.
“One of you record, the other take pictures.” His instructions were crystal clear to everyone on the small family meeting this morning. “If I am not getting a text every minute, you aren’t taking enough.” You couldn’t help but laugh along with your family. It eased some of the sadness then.
But now you’re here and the reality of him not being is weighing heavy on your heart.
You refuse to even look for your parents for a majority of the ceremony. Not until you’re standing to the side of the stage, ready to walk up. You hand your note card with your name to the speaker and being your walk. You grin at your professor, squealing as she hands you the diploma holder.
“I’m so proud of you!” She gives you a big hug. You hug her back, scanning the seats beyond her shoulder instinctively.
And there he is. Mat Barzal, number 13 for the New York Islanders, sitting squished between both of your parents, clapping for you.
You’re supposed to go back to your seat, but honestly, how could you? He’s right there.
So you find the opening to run up the seating section to him. He moves through the row of your family members to catch you on the stairs. His arms feel better than any words could try to recreate.
“What are you doing here?” It’s a breathless whisper you say into his neck.
“I couldn’t miss it. I am so proud of you, baby. I had to be here.”
“You have a game tonight.”
“I know. And I’m here instead.” You pull back, holding his face in your hands and bringing his face to your lips. “I love you.”
“I know.” You tell him, kissing his lips again softly.
And you do. Because tonight, Mat Barzal should be in front of 20,000 people in Detroit, but tonight he’s here, in your small college town, supporting you.
After the ceremony, and you throw your hat to signify 3.5 years of a job well done, you rush back to where Mat is waiting for you. He has a huge bouquet of roses, died in your college collars. He can’t keep his hands off you, even as you hug the rest of your family. His hand stays on your back, or laced with your fingers.
“Isn’t she so beautiful tonight?” Mat asks your dad, who chuckles.
“Pump the breaks there, Barzy.” He claps his shoulder. He loves Mat though and thinks his love drunk puppy eyes are exactly what you deserve. A man who shows up when he knows you need him to. “You said you have a question?” Your dad lowers his voice so only Mat can here. Their eyes meet and your dad’s heart tightens in his chest.
Mat’s here for more than just your graduation.
#Mat Barzal fic#Mat Barzal x reader#Mat Barzal blurb#New York Islanders#hockey writing#NHL writing#NHL fan fiction#writing request#my writing
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Christine.. do you have any audios for dom! vibe Matthew Barzal?? 🥺
[M4F] Don't Tell Your Friends
[Gentle Mdom][Reassuring][Comforting][Virgin][Make Out][Instructing You][French Kissing][Whispering][Growling][Laughing][Teasing][Oral][Cum in my Mouth][25:29]
Creator Reddit: u/Qarnivore
#mat barzal#christine recommends audios#mathew barzal#mat barzal x reader#mat barzal smut#hockeyblr#nhl hockey#hockey players#hockey smut#nhl fic#nhl fan fiction#nhl fanfiction#nhl players#smut#soundgasm#audios
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1000 Follower Celebration!
so I hit 1000 followers a couple of weeks ago (CRAZY & THANK YOUU) and I know I have been mia for a hot minute when it comes to publishing fics. I’ve hit horrible writer’s block and I’m so sorry for leaving you all hanging. However, with this celebration, like I’ve seen many other people on here do (shoutout to them), I was hoping it could be cured and I could go back to regularly writing again 🤍
so this if for all of you guys to get to know me more but also celebrate you and for me to say thanks <3
rules: send me the emoji corresponding to the prompt you want me to answer.
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🐢 get to know me – send me a number (or more) from this list or come up with your own question to get to know me more. I’ll give you one: turtles are my favorite animals
🎙 music – send me this emoji and I’ll shuffle my liked songs playlist 5 times to get to know my music taste
🧿 moodboard – I’ll make you a moodboard/lockscreen/tumblr header about whatever you want . include your aesthetic or prompt the moodboard should follow. (also the dimensions if you want a lockscreen or tumblr header)
🏒 blurbs – here is a prompt list you can use but you can also send in your own idea. any player you want. (be patient with me on those though, but I’m really trying!!)
🎀 random – send me any random questions or thoughts you have :)
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some people I love and who inspire me to keep this blog up :) ily guys (sorry if I forgot someone) @smileysvech @daydreamingcara @fallinallincurls @holy-pucks @hockeysweaterweather @quietblues @pyotrkochetkov @youunravelme @wyattjohnston @softlotusss @generallybarzy @mendeshoney
#lolo’s 1k celly#send me anything you’d like :)#ily guys#nhl fics#1k follower celebration#fan fiction#mat barzal#erik johnson#andrei svechnikov#quinn hughes
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ABOUT: This is a fan-fiction blog centered around hockey players and the nhl, please not that not all requests will be completed and may be deleted if not within my comfort zone.
BLOG UNDER CONSTRUCTION; SOME LINKS MAY NOT WORK/ARE NOT POSTED YET
⎜ inbox status : closed temporarily⎜
⎜ fic requests : closed temporarily⎜
⎜chat & questions : open ⎜
⎜masterlist: n/a ⎜
⎜prompt list ⎜
⎜masterlist ⎜
⎜who i write for ⎜
nico hischier
timo meier
dawson mercer
alexander holtz
john marino
luke hughes
jack hughes
quinn huges
mat barzal
elias pettersson
trent frederic
jeremy swayman
auston matthews
joseph woll
william nylander
cole caufield
jamie drysdale
matthew knies
seth jarvis
cale makar
⎜genres i write ⎜
horror
thriller
angst
romance
alternate universes (e.g. soulmate au, college au etc.)
fluff
summer lovin' - l.hughes (requested)
synopsis: a summer down at the lake house always had a way of changing peoples relationships.
oh captain, my captain - n.hischier
synopsis: as the new team nurse of the new jersey devils you knew that staying at arms length with the players was for the best, but injuries can bring out your deepest emotions.
my all star - e.pettersson
synopsis: you’ve been dating for a while now and after receiving an invite to go to the all star weekend with Elias you realise your relationship is about to change.
puppy love - t.frederic (requested)
synopsis: you met him once by accident, you don't know what to do when you start your new job with a little bit of puppy love
shameless flirt - a.matthews
synopsis: working as a team trainer came with many ups and downs, when you pull one of toronto's super stars the downs seem to outweigh the ups - but auston is always willing to bring you back up.
#nhl x reader#nhl imagine#jack hughes#quinn hughes#trent frederic#luke hughes#nhl fic#nhl hockey#nhl#nico hischier#jamie drysdale#jeremy swayman#mat barzal#elias pettersson#cole caufield#joseph woll#william nylander#auston matthews#dawson mercer#timo meier#john marino#alexander holtz#matthew knies
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Save You Tonight- Mathew Barzal
@natbarzal @anastasiyaigorevnadobrodevskaya @sabtalkshockey
A/N: WOW! This took soooo long I’m sorry! Here it is part 12 of the Up All Night series, with Mr. Barzal! I was in my feels about the Isles losing so this is ANGST! Let me know what you think!!
Warnings: ANGST, cursing, mentions of infidelity/cheating, toxic relationships, and drinking (let me know if I missed anything)
Word count: 1.9k (whoops)
I wanna save you, wanna save your heart tonight. He'll only break ya, leave you torn apart.
Mat Barzal knows three things to be true. The first, hockey is what he’s meant to do in life. He’s known it to be true from the moment he stepped on the ice for the first time. He was made for hockey.
Secondly, he knows he is hopelessly in love with you. His best friend. The person who is always there for him, no matter what. No matter what the media is saying, no matter how poorly he’s played, and no matter what he does; you support him. You’re his person.
The third thing that Mat knows to be true, may be the most true of them all. Life isn’t fair. He knows this for certain. Sure, maybe he’s being dramatic, but tonight couldn’t feel any less fair.
You were only sitting about 10 feet away from Mat, but he’d swear you weren’t even there. Instead you were elsewhere, somewhere very far away. The worst part though? You aren’t alone. Your boyfriend, Tom, who not only has you with him physically, also has your undivided attention. His arm is wrapped possessively around your waist as you laugh, and it’s not fair.
———
As you knock on Mat’s door at 1 am with tears staining your cheeks, you immediately know you shouldn’t be there.
Mat pulls himself from his bed, grumbling to himself that this better be some sort of emergency. As he throws the door open though, his whole demeanour changes. He immediately softens at the sight of you. Body trembling, cheeks wet, eyes bloodshot; Mat is positive he’s never seen you so broken, and he never wants to see it again.
“Y/n? What’s wrong?” His voice is deep from the sleep you’ve woken him from.
His question is answered only by the ugly sob that escapes you. Mat quickly jumps to action, pulling you against his chest and closing the door. He holds you tightly, but not so tight you couldn’t pull away if you wanted. His hand circles your back as he lets you cry against his bare shoulder.
The two of you stay like that. You cling to him while you cry, and he soothes you. You stay there for what feels like hours, but is likely only a few minutes. When you finally speak, your voice catches Mat off guard, “He’s cheating on me.”
The white hot rage that fills Mathew’s entire body, is like nothing he’s ever felt before. His entire body tenses against you, as he tries to piece together how he should respond. All he wants to do is punch Tom square in the nose, and then jump for joy.
———
Mathew comforts you all night. Lets you curl yourself against him in his bed as he whispers into your hair that everything will be okay. He holds you close, as you finally doze off. Your face pressed to his chest, his t-shirt damp from your tears. Maybe in the morning you’ll regret coming here, but for now you’ll sleep better than you had in weeks, feeling safe in your best friend’s arms.
Mat lazily runs his hand through your hair, as he stares at the ceiling. He has dreamed of a moment like this with you. It feels so domestic. However, this is not how he ever wanted it to happen, so he forces the smile from his face. You are not his. You are broken, and although he wants so badly to celebrate this moment, he won’t let himself.
It's a quarter to three can't sleep at all. You're so overrated. If you told me to jump, I'd take the fall, and he wouldn't take it
Maybe it was best that Mat didn’t allow himself to celebrate that moment, because the pain sitting on his chest tonight was unbearable as it was. It hasn’t even been three days since you left Mat’s place, after spending the night wrapped in his arms, and you called to tell him you were taking Tom back.
Mat tried to reason with you, but you wouldn’t listen to his logic, or to his pleas for that matter. So now, he sits alone at some grimy bar sipping on a, now room temperature, glass of whiskey. His mind flooding with thoughts of you at Tom’s apartment, curled against him like you were against Mat just days before.
“Listen dude, it’s almost 2 and I’d really like to go home, so if we could close your tab and call you a cab now that would be great.” The bartenders’ voice momentarily pulls Mat from his bubble of self pity. Taking a moment to look around him, Mat quickly realizes that the other people that had once also occupied the dingy space, were now gone. Gone like his chances with you. So he leaves too.
2:45. That’s what time the clock on his nightstand reads as he falls into his bed. His now wrinkled dress shirt half unbuttoned, as he stares blankly at the ceiling. The alcohol coursing through his veins gives him half a mind to call you, but he can’t. He knows it. It’d be wrong.
So why is his phone ringing?
All that you want's under your nose. You should open your eyes but they stay closed
You aren’t sure what it was that woke you. The sun streaming through the window? The empty spot in your bed? You could roll over and go back to sleep, but as you catch a glimpse of your Lock Screen, you’re wide awake.
5 New Voicemails. All from Mat.
Immediately your mind assumes the worst, so your whole body trembles as you lift the phone to your ear.
“Y/n? Hey! Um wow what am I doing? I just couldn’t sleep- I haven’t slept at all really since you’ve been here. That’s weird.” Click. His voice sounded so sad as he spoke.
“I’m sorry. It’s not your fault I can’t sleep. I mean it kind of is, but I just- you know what? Forget it.” Click. The sadness in his voice slowly fades to anger the longer he speaks.
“Why y/n/n? Why him? I’ve had to pick you up so many times, because you were so upset. Yet, you go back to him? You only want me to make things better, so he can swoop in and fuck it all up again. I hope it’s worth it, because I’m so sick of this. I’m done.” Click. You don’t realize you’re crying until a small sniffle escapes you.
“I didn’t mean that. FUCK! You’re probably with him right now, curled up with him just like you were with me. You’re so cute when you sleep, you know? God. You’re so damn beautiful and you don’t even know it! Tom is such a fucking idiot for not showing you how wonderful you are. He doesn’t deserve you. No one does.” Click.
“Y/n?” The way he says your name now, has your heart breaking in two. He sounds so broken. The silence that follows your name, has you thinking he’s fallen asleep. Finally succumbing to the alcohol. Just as you’re about to hang up though, he speaks again. “I- I think. I think I’m in love with you.”
I wanna save you, wanna save your heart tonight. He'll only break ya, leave you torn apart. I can't be no superman, but for you I'll be superhuman
“Where are you going?” Tom’s voice startled you from his place on the couch.
“Jesus Tommy! When did you even get here?” His face twists slightly in offense.
“I live here now, remember?” He challenges, standing up. His figure now towering over you despite the distance between you. “I asked where you were going.”
“To see a friend.” Your reply is lame, and it definitely doesn’t help the tension in the room.
“Mat?” Your heartbeat quickens at the mere mention of his name. Tom somehow senses the shift in your demeanour before you can even respond. “You’re sleeping with him.”
“Excuse me!?” His accusatory statement has you absolutely furious the moment it leaves his lips.
“Oh save it! You’ve been sleeping with him this whole time. Why else would he stick around?”
“You know what Tommy?” You pause, trying to will the tears forming behind your eyes, not to fall. “He sticks around, because he’s more of a man than you’ll ever be. I haven’t slept with him, and if you don’t believe me I don’t care.” You turn away from him, and grab your keys from the desk by the front door. “I think it’s best if you’re not here when I get back. Or ever again for that matter. Goodbye Tom.”
He curses you out as you walk out the door. Yells profanities loud enough that you know you’ll be coming home to a trashed apartment and multiple noise complaints, but as long he’s gone you don’t care. All you care about right now is one thing. Mat.
———
You’ve never felt more fragile than you do now, knocking on his door. Your heart sits in the palm of his hand, and he doesn’t even know it yet. That’s why, when he opens the door you fall apart. Tears stream down your face, as you try and force a smile.
Mat’s face is unreadable as he stares back at you. “What are you doing here?” The words sound empty, and almost annoyed. The last time you’d shown up crying at his door he coddled you, and made sure you were okay. Not today.
“W-we broke up, he’s gone.” You pause, watching Mat closely. If you weren’t watching him so closely you would have missed the way his jaw clenched, as he looked back at you.
The bags under his eyes stare back at you, proving that those voice messages had in fact been real. He looks as though he hasn’t slept in weeks. “I heard your messages, and I had to see you-“
Mat is quick to cut you off there. “Why? So you can come over here and have me piece you back together just to break my heart again? Don’t bother alright? Last night I was drunk, and upset. Now I’m sober, and can clearly see you only want me now because I’m an easy rebound.”
“Mat it’s not like that-“ the scoff that leaves him, has new tears forming in your eyes.
“Sure. I’ve tried y/n. For years. I have tried so hard to be some superhero for you. I’d swoop in and save the day time after time, and everytime I’d have it thrown in my face. I love you, I think I always have, but I don’t have it in me to be your second choice. I’m not some superhero y/n, I’m just me and it’s obviously not good enough.” The emotion swirling through his eyes as he speaks has you wanting to reach out to him. To hold him close, and tell him it’s all going to be okay. Be that person for him, like he has been for you countless times. To tell him you love him too. It’s not an option though, and as he crosses his arms over his chest, you know it’s over.
Whatever was happening between you and Mat. Whatever could have happened. Over. Gone before you ever had a chance to appreciate it, to appreciate him. “I’m sorry.” Your words are quiet, but not enough to hide the way your voice breaks.
“Me too.”
#Up All Night-series#Mat Barzal#Matthew Barzal#mat barzal x reader#mat barzal fanfiction#hockey fanfic#hockey fan fiction#hockey fanfiction#nhl fanfic#nhl fan fiction#nhl fanfiction#hockey imagine#hockey imagines#nhl imagines#nhl imagine
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Reading fan fiction and pooping, that’s all I’m good for anymore
#fanfic#fan fiction#nhl#mat barzal#anthony beauvillier#kevin hayes#ny isles#literally why am i like this#I don’t sleep anymore#l read the same smut as my kid sister last night#I miss using wattpad but it’s so hot or miss that I’d rather go right to tumblr#anyway on to my scenarios#🏃♀️💨#< me running to my bed so I can act out my scenarios
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I’m thinking of doing something along the lines of writing fics for donations. Any amount you donate 5$ or more and I will write you a personalized fic with your favourite hockey boo or fictional characters with a plot of your choosing
As always you can show support using this link here :)
#donations#nhl imagine#hockey imagine#nhl x reader#hockey x reader#nhl#hockey#tyler seguin#fan fiction#nathan mackinnon#dallas stars#mat barzal#mat barzal imagine#matthew Tkachuk#gofundme#cocos chance
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NYC ~ Mathew Barzal
Chapter One
Ch. One ~ Ch. Two ~ Part Three ~ Ch. Four ~ Ch. Five
A/N: Yes, a lot of you may recognize this specific title/player combo from a blog who no longer wishes to associate with writing. I privately messaged them and requested permission to read their previous work that has always been my favorite. Not only did they give me access to read everything, but they’re allowing me to have all of their series and tweak them into my own. The story line will remain the same, but I have decided to change the POV that way I can slightly customize the story. I apologize if you dislike not having “Y/N” in a story but as I continue to study creative writing, I believe it makes a story easier to read. I hope you enjoy, I greatly appreciate feedback!
Check out my Wattpad where I will be posting this series and others as I go!
Authors Note: Based off this YouTube video. Yes, I purposely gave the children different names.
Word Count: 1,878
Warnings: Mature Language
Misc. Characters: Cassandra~You
________
I’ve been nannying the Seidenberg’s for a little over a year now. My parents lived in the house next door while I went to a university in the city, living in an apartment close to campus. Dennis and Rebecca figured since I was a familiar face to the kids, with always being invited to small holiday get together parties my parents would hold, that I would be the best option to take care of them. That way Rebecca could go on road trips, or have fun with the other WAGs without worrying about the kids.
I got along with the three kids very well. After being with them for over a year, they feel like my own siblings. The boy, Dakota, was the youngest and he always loved to play street hockey with me in the driveway. The girls would play along as well, but he’d always be the first to ask. The two girls, Natalie and Marisa, always brought back memories of my old dancing days. Wanting to stay downstairs and do gymnastics or make up dance routines until they couldn’t stand anymore. As you can see, the kids kept me very busy and active.
Normally, I would only nanny on weeks when Dennis went on road trips and Rebecca wanted to join. Or random nights that the WAGs decided to hang out. However, over the summer I found myself at their house quite often. Sometimes only because the kids just wanted to hang out and play.
The summer was coming to an end and the hockey season was about to pick up once again. College was unfortunately beginning to get rough as it was now my senior year, but the kids always knew how to ease my stress and bring the child out of me, which is why I enjoy being with them so much.
Tonight, Dennis and Rebecca had gone out to attend the season kickoff dinner. They requested that I sleep over their house as they planned not to be coming home until after midnight. They have a guest room on the upper level that I usually sleep in during the road trip weeks. The room is comfortable, I love it. They even allow me to customize it and accent the walls with pictures that the kids have drawn for me.
After a couple hours of driveway street hockey, once the sun started setting, I then settled on the basement couch with the kids, popping in a Disney movie. The time was inching close to midnight, but we all ignored it. The girls laid on either side of me, with my arms around their shoulders while theirs crossed my stomach. While Dakota laid on the floor by himself in front of us. It wasn’t long before all three of them had dozed off into a sleep. Not wanting to move and wake them up, I figured I should drift off into sleep as well.
I heard a sudden noise which broke me out of my sleep. My mom instincts kicked in remembering the kids were with me. I quickly jumped up to see who was in the room, ready to attack if it was an intruder. The lights were still dim in the basement as the television asking if we were still watching was the only thing to illuminate the space. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust but soon enough I heard Dennis’ hushed voice.
“Sorry! We were trying to be quiet.” He whispered tiptoeing down the last stair. After his statement I was blinded by the overhead lights being turned on. My hands quickly covered my eyes, rubbing them to regulate my sight once again. I then heard the kids simultaneously groan “daaaad” behind me as they woke.
“Come on. Go on up to your rooms. I️ know Cassandra would love to be laying in her bed right now.” He continued. He definitely wasn’t lying about me wanting to be in my bed at the moment. Laying on the couch left a kink in my neck that I couldn’t help but absentmindedly attempt to massage out.
Once the kids retreated up the stairs, I noticed a male, averaging the same age as me, walk out of the spare bedroom adjacent from the couch. He had long, dark, slicked back hair. He was wearing a T-shirt that showed off his toned veiny arms, paired with black skinny jeans.
I’d be lying if I said he wasn’t attractive. In fact, he was almost unreal. His face was perfectly chiseled while his body looked like it was carved by angels. I couldn’t help but stare at every little feature on him. It was almost as if he had just walked out of a movie. Next thing I know my eyes trace back up to his face and he’s staring right back at me. I felt my heart beat rise as a genuine smile that could light up the whole room pulled across his lips.
I was guessing he was one of Dennis’ teammates. As if the Islander t-shirt didn’t give that away. But, he definitely wasn’t one that has been invited over to the house previously as I’ve clearly never seen him before. So, I figured he was a rookie and Dennis invited him over for dinner.
“Cassandra, so sorry I️ probably should introduce the two of you.” Dennis began once he returned from bringing the kids upstairs. I hadn’t noticed earlier, but I was staring at the boy in silence for an uncomfortable amount of time. Causing heat to immediately flood my cheeks in embarrassment. Figuring there was no way he didn’t take notice to my lengthy admiration.
“This is Mathew. Mathew this is Cassandra.” He introduced. Mat was quick to hold his hand out to me, stepping closer. “Hey, it’s nice to meet you.” He stated with a distinct Canadian accent. I took his hand into mine and shook lightly as I silently prayed he wouldn’t notice how sweaty my palm was.
“Same to you.” I responded. Not nearly as confident as I pleased. In fact, I’m pretty sure I sounded like a shy 3rd grader introducing themselves to the whole class on the first day of school.
“Mat is a rookie this year. So Rebecca and I️ decided it would be smart to allow him to stay here for his first season. Just so you don’t get confused when you see him walking around.” Dennis exclaimed.
As he finished, I was pretty sure all of the color in my skin sank, just like thermometers do when the temperatures drop. The thought of having this painfully attractive boy around the house excited me in all the wrong ways. The last thing I needed was a distraction. However, he would be gone on road trips the same time as Dennis. So, hopefully I wouldn’t see him that often anyway. Even though I’d hate to admit that I really wanted too.
“Welcome!” Was all I could say as I was still in shock from the whole situation. I attempted to sound as enthusiastic as possible. Mat sent me a sympathetic smirk. Almost like he felt bad for being here even though it wasn’t even my house. Making me feel self conscious of possibly sending him the wrong vibes.
“Well Mat, I️’m going to go grab your other suitcase. Make yourself feel at home.” Dennis offered before making his way back up the stairs. Eternally I began screaming for him to come back. Not wanting to be left alone with the boy whose bones I was ready to jump at any given moment.
“Does your neck hurt?” He questioned. My gaze shifted from the stairwell to Mat who only stood about a foot away from me. My head cocked to the side in confusion, while my face muscles tightened, wondering how in the world he knew about the kink that had formed in my neck.
“How did you…?” I began to ask before Mat cut me off to explain.
“You’ve been rubbing it since you stood up.” He answered, pointing to his own neck to imitate my movements. He spoke low and cleared his throat. Making me feel slightly better about this situation seeing he seemed to be just as awkward as I was at the moment.
“Yeah. I slept wrong on the couch and now I️ have a knot in my neck.” I responded while rolling my eyes, annoyed with the pain.
“Want me to try and rub it out?” Mat proposed. A moment of silence fell over the room. My mind immediately wanted to respond with ‘Boy you could rub whatever you want’ but obviously that wasn’t reasonable. I tried to stay calm as my heart began to race even faster to the point I would bet he could hear it.
“Can you please?” I replied as my mind began to contemplate if that was a good enough response or not.
Mat then moved behind me. His fingertips, oh so gently, braced themselves on my right shoulder. His thumbs then started making small circle movements into my skin causing goosebumps to rise that I hoped he didn’t notice. But taking by the deep chuckle I just heard behind me.. he noticed.. and is flattered.
The pressure from his thumbs found the perfect spot on the knot. Kneading it away as my facial expressions tighten in pain. Knowing that it has to hurt before the muscles will relax.
“Am I️ getting it?” Mathew questioned. He knew the answer. He could tell by my face, the goosebumps and the way my shoulder was slowly moving farther away from him. He knew I was enjoying it, so he was instigating.
“Yes.” I groaned with my teeth grinding together. Features still continuing to tense. However, he slowly and gently removed his fingertips as I then felt total relief over my neck and shoulder. I circled my arm around a couple times to ensure the pain was gone and behold, Mat had magical hands.
“Thank you a lot, it feels so much better.” I spoke relieved, turning to face Mat who was standing much closer than I had anticipated.
“No problem. Anytime.” He whispered due to the small amount of space separating us. His statement was followed by a wink that was powerful enough to blow me off my feet. But to maintain my authority, I plastered a smirk on my face, and winked back.
“Have a good night.” I said before confidently turning around to walk up the stairs. Proud of myself for appearing unfazed instead of the sweaty mess I was on the inside.
“Oh, I️ will. Goodnight.” Mat responded. Thankfully I was facing the opposite direction, that way he couldn’t see my eyes roll through my head at his sly comment.
Once reaching my bedroom on the upper level I laid in my bed staring at the ceiling fan. I knew it would be unprofessional and a risk to my job if I even thought about attempting anything with Mat. But at the same time, he was almost impossible to resist. Who knows though, he might not even be interested at all and I’m wasting my time thinking about him for nothing. Yet, it was also so hard to get him off my mind.
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I die anytime I read protective/possessive 🤤🤤 what about all the times barzal was protective of reader 🥺
A/N: Okay!I love these! But I've never been asked for something like this. So, thank you!
All the times Mat Barzal was protective of you:
The time, before you weren't even dating, where your brother was threatening to punch you for taking his car without asking. Mat thought he was serious and stepped between you two. Mat told your brother “You’ll hit the ground before you’re even done swinging.”
The time, when you came to visit Mat in New York, and got a little lost trying to come back with coffee. You called Mat, borderline hyperventilating, he came sprinting down the street, hugging you so hard you spilt the coffee. “I’m sorry.” He mumbled. “Let’s go get breakfast instead.”
Mat has been known to tell people to stop looking at you when you’re out at the bar. You’re trying to be casual with the Isles group and Mat’s like a rabid dog at all the bros who think they’re gonna come buy you a drink. One of them gets testy, saying Mat’s too pretty to be intimidating. “How about you fuck around and find out, bud?” Mat says, attempting to stand from his stool. You sit down hard on his lap, telling him if he’s good, he can fuck your mouth later.
One night, you had awful stomach pain and couldn’t stop throwing up. Mat got worried and called the team doctor. They came over, checked you out, and insisted you needed to go to the ER immediately. Turns out, appendicitis is as painful as they say. Mat stayed behind and met the team late just to stay with you through the whole procedure, only leaving when your mom pushed him out of the apartment. “But… she needs me!” He insisted to her. “Mat! Your team does!” You yell to him as your mom shuts the door in his face.
One night, Mat gets a little rough while fucking you, which you love, but then he spends the next few days constantly asking if you’re okay. He comes home with flowers and cupcakes and your favorite energy drinks. He dots on you all over the apartment, hands roaming along your hips, ass, breasts, and cheeks constantly needing reassurance from you that you’re okay. “Baby.” You whine when he tries to follow you into the bathroom. “This is too much!” “I was so rough.” “Yeah, and I’ve never come that hard.” You look pointedly at him. He pauses, considering. “Come out of that bathroom naked. Let’s try it again.”
But none of these compares to what happens when you get pregnant unexpectedly.
Mat is everything you need in a partner. Baby books, done. Every appointment, there. Ultrasound pics in his locker, absolutely. Smothering your baby bump with smooches, where else would his lips go??
But when it comes time for you to give birth, he is wheezing with panic as you’re pushing. He’s muttering under his breath prayers to every God he can think of. You purse your lips as the next contraction bares down on you, squeezing Mat’s hand in both pain and reassurance. “Please be okay.” He begs when the baby is placed on your chest. Your daughter wails back at him and Mat loses it, tears falling onto his face as he passionately kisses you.
Yes, he is the dad that drives literally ten miles an hour down the street the whole way home from the hospital. “Honk all you want, douche bag. I’m not going above 11!” Mat grumbles as you hide your embarrassed cheeks with your hands in the back seat.
When you see him in the nursery, holding her close, placing soft kisses on her dainty nose, you’re thankful there is someone to share Mat’s protective attention with. Maybe you’ll get to leave the house without your faithful protector trailing after you.
Spoiler: you don’t. And that’s perfectly fine because you know with Mat, you’ll always be safe.
#Mat Barzal#mat barzal fic#hockey writing#nhl fan fiction#my writing#writing request#New York islanders
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ooooo do you have any good mat barzal audios?? thank you for your service 🫡
Barzy, baby!!!
[M4F] Making your boyfriend jealous results in what you were hoping for.
#christine recommends audios#mat barzal#mathew barzal#mat barzal x reader#mat barzal smut#nhl fan fiction#hockey smut#hockey players#nhl players
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I know that this may seem werid coming from me and no one probably cares and I feel so werid saying it but I’m lowkey a hockey stannie. It started because this blog that I follow posts both One Direction and hockey content and I saw one SUPER CUTE HOCKEY BOY from the NHL All-Star game and I spiraled from there. I’ve been lurking through different hockey blogs and reading fan fiction since January and collecting likes but I haven’t reblogged much about it. The reason why I feel so werid talking about it is because
1. I’m black and hockey isn’t the most diverse sport unfortunately. (It’s lowkey frustrating to see the way how the NHL and some of the players handle racism and black lives matter)
2. No one in my family likes hockey besides me.
3. I don’t live in a hockey hub city (there used to be a minor league Affiliate team in the city where I go to college and I was supposed to go see them play with some friends, pre-COVID shutdown but now, that team is being moved to a new city).
4. I feel a huge sense of imposter syndrome and I feel like a fraud because of this.
My favorite hockey teams and players are:
Philly:
-Travis Konecny
-Nolan Patrick
-Carter Hart
-Morgan Frost
Toronto:
-Mitch Marner
St Louis:
-VINCE DUNN
Colorado:
-Andre Burkavosky
Columbus:
-Pierre Luc-Dubois
Vancouver:
-Quinn Hughes
Islanders:
-Mat Barzal
-Anthony Beauviller
Dallas:
-Tyler Seguin
Yes, I have been watching the Stanley Cup Qualifers and Playoff Games and y’all, it’s so good. If anyone wants to talk about hockey or teach me more about it (I’m barely getting into it so there’s certain things or jokes that I don’t understand yet) or become friends/mutuals, please hit my DMs please and thank you.
Thank you for coming to my TED Talk😌✨
#hockey#nhl#travis konecny#nolan patrick#carter hart#morgan frost#philadelphia flyers#mitch marner#toronto maple leafs#vince dunn#st louis blues#andre burakovsky#colorado avalanche#quinn hughes#anthony beauvillier#vancouver canucks#mat barzal#ny islanders#tyler seguin#dallas stars
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I wish I could experience reading your 4 times mat barzal imagine for the first time again. It’s such a beautiful fan fiction 🥺❤️ thank you for publishing it
😭😭😭😭💞💞💞😭💞😭💞
This is literally the best message ever!!!! Thank you!!!!
Five Times Everyone Knew Mat Loved You & The One Time Mat Realized
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get to know me guide !!
tagged by rebecca @carterhxrt ty girlie!!!!!
name: Emily
nickname: Em, Shmem
height: 5′6
orientation: mat barzal’s bitch.
nationality: american af. *insert bald eagle pic here*
favorite flower: tulips!!!!!!!
favorite season: summer because its warm and my birthday and i think i look better with a slight tan.
favorite color: pink!
favorite animal: dogs, very basic
coffee/ tea/ hot coco: do chai tea lattes from starbucks count? how white am i?
average sleep: my ass is in bed at 10:30 almost every night but i don’t actually fall asleep until 11-ish
dogs/ cats: DOGS.
favorite fictional character: tobias funke, any arrested development fans out there?
dream trip: to visit greece and have a very fabulous vacation
blog created: i think in january or february... can’t remember exactly! but it’s been great
random fact: i should be doing work rn.
zodiac: virgo
dream job: nurse!!! which means in a few months i’ll have it :’)
future: be happy, healthy and someone others respect.
no tags. do this as you please!
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Drunk Me with Mat Barzal
A/N: The people wanted angsty and fluffy. So, here is is :D
Word Count: 2.9k
Warnings: Drunk, Swearing, Angst, smidge of smut but I’m not gonna slap a warning on it cause I kept it PG13 (you’re welcome or I’m sorry?).
All the promises I made to myself before I got to the bar tonight have been broken.
Don’t think about Mat.
Don’t mix your alcohols.
Don’t cry in the bathroom.
Each one of them is smashed to smithereens on the wet, worn floor of the bar in our hometown of Coquitlam, BC.
At that realization, I suck up the last of my “I swear this is my last” vodka soda.
I look to my left where my best friend, Maggie, is laughing with her new boyfriend. I scoff bitterly. We were supposed to be hot messes together this summer coming off long-term relationship break ups. Now, she’s moving on with the new love of her life, while I’m left to wallow about Mat being back in town.
Mat and I broke up months ago. Nothing crazy even happened between us. It was just the reality that we were at a pivotal relationship moment and I couldn’t do it. Mat said we are both on different paths, growing in different directions, but I don’t see it. Things were good how they were. He ruined it. Maybe on purpose. Maybe it was all just an excuse for him. Maybe Mat wants to fuck puck bunnies. I don’t know. All I do know is there is a gaping hole in my chest where my heart is supposed to be.
My chest is now heavy with grief and I consider going to the bar to get another vodka soda. But the neon signs are already spinning and another sip of alcohol will have me back in the bathroom, clutching a public toilet. A heat wave surges through my body and agitation crawls on my skin as I look at Maggie again. So much for girls’ night. Her new boyfriend showed up with a group of his friends and it became clear why we came here when I wanted to go somewhere else. Anywhere else. I hate this bar. Mat and I used to sit in that corner booth, disappearing from our friend group to touch each other and whisper the hot things we would do later.
It hurts to be here.
“I need some air.” I announce to the bar, lifting my long hair off my neck as a wave of nausea rolls through me.
Mat was wrong. We haven’t grown apart. We just… grew up, together, and yeah, I didn’t want to move to New York, but what was wrong with what we had? I flew out there regularly. I stayed for weeks until I had to leave the country again. It wasn’t my fault the U.S. government is so strict. Mat did bring up getting me a special visa that the other Islander’s girls utilized. But it felt too… daunting. After I said no, he started creating distance, then he came home just to leave me.
I should have said yes. I know that now. And I’ve gone back to that moment weekly since he’s been gone. Every time, I say the right thing.
I let my hair fall back onto my neck once I’m outside. Anger burns in my rib cage, fueling an unreasonable reaction. I decide, drunkenly and months later, that he had no right to ask me to move to New York. He put me on the spot. It’s my life and I get to choose for me. But he made it an ultimatum without even telling me. If he would have said move here or break up, I would have at least known what I was up against!
And I’m going to tell him that.
Before my rational brain can catch up, my phone is out of my pocket and in my hand. I pound at his name, once, twice, three times until I actually get the call to go through with my swirling vision.
“Hello?” He’s groggy and my stomach lurches out of my abdomen at the thought of him in bed.
“You know, I have something to say to you.” I slur at him. I ignore the way my throat tightens at the sound of his sigh.
“Y/N?” I can practically hear him rubbing his eyes sleepily on the other line. It is getting close to bar close and he sounds like he’s been asleep. I hear rustling on the other end.
“Are you with someone?” I whisper before I can stop it.
“No?” I suck in a breath at his sharp tone. “Where are you?”
“At Pete’s.” I say, making my way over to the wall and leaning against it.
“Are you with someone?”
“I was with Maggie, but she’s sucking some guy’s face right now. I just want to go home.” I kick at a pebble with my boot, not even registering the whining and desperation in my voice.
“Is that what you called to tell me?”
“I… guess.” I squish my eyes together. Mat is quiet on the other end. The silence in the air is filled with tension as I watch people leave the entertainment district, catching rides and heading to their beds, most of them not alone unlike me. It makes my skin crawl, thinking of my empty bed where he should be, holding me and stroking my bare skin after a night of loving each other. I purse my lips. “Will you come get me?” I beg quietly, tears filling my voice.
More silence.
“I’ll be there in five.” He finally says as I hear him walking through his bedroom to get dressed again.
“Okay.” I click end, then lean back against the brick wall to wait.
His expensive black car rolls up, dark tinted windows making it difficult to see inside. He comes to a stop in front of me as people on the sidewalk stretch their necks to get a peek of who it might be. I suck my cheeks in, watching as his driver’s side door opens. He stands, turning to look at me still leaning against the wall. His black Adidas shirt is stretched wide across his chest. His arms rest against the door and the top of his car as he takes me in. My make up has long since peaked, so black mascara smudges around my eyes along with smeared pink lipstick.
“Let’s get you home.” He finally calls to me. I push off from the wall, glancing at the passerby’s who study us curiously. Everyone in this town knows Mat. They know me too, but mostly as his ex-girlfriend. They wonder what we are doing together now. I reach the passenger side door, popping it open after stealing one last glance at his face. He looks so good, nothing like he was just fast asleep until a pathetic girl called him into the nightlife.
“Are you okay?” He asks, the clicking of his blinker filling the car. I nod my head. “Do you still live in the same place?” I wince, hating the reality that he hasn’t been over since the Islanders were in town in January.
“Yeah.” I finally respond. I pull my phone out, texting Maggie that I went home so she doesn’t worry about me. I don’t bother telling her with whom.
I thought I missed Mat earlier tonight, but being in this car, feeling his heat and smelling his body wash is a whole new level of ache. I shouldn’t have called him. I should have Lyfted home and deleted his number.
“This is nice.” I motion to the vehicle.
“Thanks. I wanted an upgrade from last year.” I think of the instagram stories he shared from New York with his big breasted rebound.
“In many areas.” I snort, my drunkenness becoming obvious to him with my loose tongue. Thankfully, Mat lets that comment slide off into the darkness, never to be mentioned again.
“How’s your mom doing?” He asks, switching to a seemingly safety subject.
“She’s good. She has this huge collection of jewelry she’s been making for the county fair. Tons and tons of really great pieces. She’s proud of how it’s all coming together. My brother is even building these cool floating-” I stop abruptly. The county fair I’m talking about is the place Mat and I had our first kiss six years ago. I don’t want to remember that night right now. Mat turns, expecting me to continue. “Yeah, she’s good.” I finish, looking out the windshield as he slows to a red light.
“That’s cool. Maybe I’ll stop by the fair to see her this year. It’s been awhile since I’ve been…” He trails off like he’s getting lost in a memory. I’m not self-centered enough to believe it’s about us. An uncomfortable silence descends that makes Mat cough before attempting small talk again.
“Um, how are you?” He wonders, thumb stroking against the leather of his steering wheel. The air conditioning blows heavily on my arms, making goosebumps tighten my skin. I push the vents to face away. Mat reaches for the air control, mumbling an apology.
“I’m… fine.” I finally settle on. “You?”
“Can’t complain.” He shrugs, turning onto my street.
“Thanks for coming to get me.” I tell him as he pulls to a stop in front of my building. He puts the car in park, but keeps the car running. I undo my seatbelt, slowly letting it fall back into the door. I turn to look at him, dying inside at his beautiful gaze looking back at me.
“You’re welcome. Glad you’re safe… and okay.” His eyebrows are furrowed as he stares down at the stereo rather than back at me.
I wait for another moment. I’m not sure what more I am expecting from this. Unfortunately, my drunken mind fills in the silence with more thoughts of us and New York. I can still see the devastated look on his face when I said no to moving. I hate how things ended with us. I hate my contribution to it and I hate that it’s so damn awkward being with him now. I purse my lips together, feeling emotion clog the back of my throat. I reach for the handle, pushing the door open and stepping out. I toss my purse back onto my shoulder, then lean down to meet his gaze again.
“I’m sorry.” I say to him, poking my head back into the car. I can’t let him leave without him knowing that.
“For what?” He asks, hand gripping the steering wheel with white knuckles.
“For not moving to New York.” I shut the door, expecting to hear his car peel off into the street. Instead, the purr behind me ceases. The pop of his door follows.
“You can’t just say that to me and walk away. I know you’re drunk, but that is not fair.”
“I’m just being honest.” I shrug, reaching for my keys in my purse, thankful they are still there. His footsteps get closer until his fingers reach around to grab my keys from my hand. He touches the fob to the door and holds it open for me to walk through. I pause, studying him. His long black hair flows against his forehead in a large curl that adds to his sexy agitation.
“Go, please. I can’t not walk you up. It doesn’t feel right.” He waves me in.
“You don’t need to do me anymore favors.”
“It’s not for you.” He shakes his head, following me into the building. I press the up button on the elevator, then select 4 for my floor.
Mat and I look at each other. I’ve made something shifted between us. I wonder if he feels it too. The depth of his eyes makes me think he does, but the truth is, I don’t know Mat as well as I used to. He’s changed in the last six months. Yet, my feelings for him are just as consuming. All the things I want to say to him are pressing into my tongue until it feels like I’m choking on the words. I’m too drunk and lonely and I miss the way it feels when he hugs me. I drop my gaze from his, lips twisting into a grimace.
Mat opens his mouth like he wants to say something, but in the end he doesn’t. We walk silently down to my apartment. Mat still has my keys in his hand. Slowly, he brings them between us for me to grab. Now, our transaction is done. He’s walked me to the door. I have my keys. How do we say goodbye?
“Thank you.” I finally say, turning to put the key in the door and flipping the lock.
“Call anytime. I’ll always be here for you.” Mat says, shoving his hands into the pockets of his shorts. “Goodnight.” He gradually turns to walk back to the elevator.
“Mat.” I hear myself sputter.
Uh oh.
“Yeah?” He asks, turning around, eyebrows furrowed like he’s struggling internally.
“Will you stay? I don’t think I can be alone.”
Unexpectedly, Mat agrees then walks back to me. Once I push the door open, he goes casually towards my bedroom like he has hundreds of times before, pulling his shirt over his head as he goes. The defined muscles of his back make my mouth go dry.
Our bodies go into autopilot, getting undressed and ready for bed in the way we always used to. It isn’t long before we are both under the blankets, firmly on our own sides of the mattress. Timidly, I feel Mat reach for me. I take his hand, letting him roll me onto my side so we are looking at each other, legs touching. The darkness masks our faces in shadows.
“Mat?”
“Hm?” His breathy grunt is warm against my forehead.
“Do you think of me when you’re in New York?”
“Of course I do. Why else would I be here?” I contemplate that for a moment, then continue.
“Are you going to regret this tomorrow?”
“Only if you do.”
- - -
The next morning, I awaken to sunlight rudely brightening my room. I groan into my pillow, feeling around for the spare pillow on the other side of the bed to bring back darkness. Instead of cotton, I come in contact with a face. Everything in my stills. I don’t remember much from last night, except a faint memory of fingers stroking my back. Did we…?
“It’s me and no we didn’t do anything.” I hear Mat say. His voice is deep and rich from sleep. It puts me at ease. Until he reaches across the bed, pulling me into his body. It’s so intimate as he seals my butt to his lap, back to his chest. His hand snakes around my stomach, holding me in place.
“What are you doing?”
“I need to tell you something, but I want to feel you in my arms while I do.” I still, barely breathing as I feel his calm heartbeat against my back. “I shouldn’t have asked you to move to New York. It was too much. I didn’t think you were going to say no, and I still don’t quite understand why you did, but I respect your choice.” My eyes close and I settle myself deeper into his body. He responds with a tighter grip on me, nose pressing to my shoulder until he speaks again. “I’ve been missing you… and us… When you called last night, and asked me to stay, I felt happy for the first time in awhile. I fucked everything up.” I put my hand on his over my stomach, interlocking our fingers together.
“Mat, I ruined this. I should have said yes. I was just really scared. What if I moved there and it didn’t work out? How was I going to come back here after that? I never let myself consider how much better it could have been. And I should have."
“You know, there is still time for you to change your mind. We could start slow. You move into my place here. Then, you move one suitcase at a time to New York until somehow all your stuff is there?” I smile, turning to press my lips into his forearm beneath my head. I want that. Desperately.
“On one condition.”
“Anything. Probably.” His lips brush against my neck as he speaks, practically kissing me. Each brush has lightning bolting through my veins. He gathers the courage to fully press his lips on my neck. I bring my hand around, holding his face to my skin, savoring his sweet touch.
“Tell me you’re still in love with me.” I whisper.
“Of course I am.” He murmurs. “How could I stop?”
“You’re the love of my life, Mat Barzal.” I turn awkwardly in his arms so our lips can connect. We make out. Every month, week and day we have spent apart has us greedily sucking each other. His hands run down my body, gripping my ass in his palms as I hook a leg over him.
“Somethings never change.” He says against my mouth, teeth connecting with my lips as he laughs. “Your nights at Pete’s still ends with mornings like this.” Mat ruts our hips together, building our excitement.
I think back to the promises I made in this bed last night before I went out, laughing at how each one of those broken agreements lead me to exactly where I wanted to be anyway.
Thank you, drunk me.
#Mat Barzal#Mat Barzal fic#New York Islanders#hockey writing#NHL writing#NHL fan fiction#writing request#my writing
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That Mat Barzal audio is justt..aaahh... chefs kiss all over the place.. can we have more pleaseee???
So...camping in the lovely forests of the Pacific Northwest with your friend Mat...
Romantic
#christine recommends audios#smut#mat barzal x reader#mat barzal smut#mat barzal#mathew barzal#new york islanders#hockey smut#hockey players#nhl players#nhl fan fiction#nhl fic#hockey
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