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pucked-bunnie · 9 hours

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hands off ⎜m.barzal

pairings: mat barzal x reader prompts: "can you please come get me?" + "Don't fucking touch what isn't yours." warnings: mentions of stalking? ⎜drunk people ⎜reading is uncomfy ⎜ word count: 1.4k note: I got a lot of request for Mat so I decided that these two go well together and ended up combining them. Requests are open!

(UNEDITED)

The party was supposed to be fun.

It was supposed to be a good way for you to find new friends - to bond with some of the other wags.

And sure the night started out fun.

“I promise they’ll take good care of you, it’s just dinner and some drinks.” Mat had assured you as he watched you pull on your coat, the oversized denim jacket holding in any warmth it could manage, stopping the slight tremble of your limbs at the winter cold.

Moving to New York had been a big adjustment, especially in the dead of winter. Mat had talked to some of his teammates, hoping to be able to set up a girls night with some of the wives and girlfriends on the team to help you adjust to being in a new city, to help you make some new friends to keep you company when he was away so often. All the girls were quick to agree, adding you to the team group chat to discuss the details.

“I know, but it’s been so long since I’ve gone out and my sister warned me about the bars around here.” You respond as you glance up at him, pulling your lip between your teeth.

You wanted him to comfort you.

To give you a reason to cancel.

Or to say he would come with you.

Meeting new people was terrifying.

“I swear it’ll be fine, just message me when you’re ready and I’ll come get you.” You nod slowly at his words, leaning up on your toes to press a soft kiss against his cheek, Mat giving you a big smile as he pushes you lightly towards the front door of the bar, leaning against the side of his car until the front door closes behind you.

Mat was right.

The night started out fun.

But things changed so quickly.

“Hey, you’ll be right to head home on your own right?” Anders asks, his wife draped against his side, a drunk smile on her face as he holds her steady with one arm around her waist. “Mat’s on his way?” He questions, you don’t really respond, just giving a tight smile.

You had messaged Mat.

You swear.

Anders pats your shoulder softly, before dragging his wife out of the club, trying to avoid her incessant affections. You watch as they leave the constantly filling bar, the crowds of people getting louder, more boisterous as the night carries on. The others had been picked up earlier by their partners, each whisked off in a slightly tipsy haze.

You had been left on delivered for the last thirty five minutes.

And there was no sign of Mat responding anytime soon.

“He’s probably fallen asleep.” You reassure yourself, you phone showing a time of eleven forty eight pm, way past Mat’s normal bedtime.

Letting out a long sigh, you push away from the spot at the bar, grabbing your jacket off the back of your chair, slinging it over your shoulders, buttoning each button tightly before hefting your purse up on your shoulder.

Your apartment wasn’t far away.

The walk would have to be brisk with the cold seeping into your bones, but it was do-able.

You smile softly as the door managers as you exit, crossing your arms over your chest with your phone tight in your hand as you start walking down the block.

You can hear as they exit behind you.

The four men bustling amongst each other.

Each of them daring the other to close the gap.

You type quickly on your phone, pressing the cold glass to your ear as the dial tone rings in your ear.

You dare to glance back, the men pausing for a moment, discussing something between themselves.

“Baby?” Mat’s voice is groggy, coughing a few times as he repeats, “Baby, are you there?” You catch yourself nodding in response - despite the fact that Mat can’t hear you - your free arm tight around you as you speed up a little more.

“Can you please come get me?” You ask softly into the phone, you can hear the rusting of a blanket and the padding of Mat’s bare feet on your apartment floor as he moves around the rooms.

“Where are you?” He asks quickly, “Are you safe?”

“Like five minutes from the bar, I thought I could make it.” You continue, your body jumping as you hear the footsteps close in.

“Hey, wait.” You hear a voice call out from behind you, the man's voice slurred slightly, his friends egging him on.

“Who was that?” Mat asks, the jangling of his keys ringing through the phone. “Are you walking?” He asks again, his voice deeper, more gravely, the easiest to tell that he was angry.

“You weren’t responding.” You justify, “It’s only a fifteen minute walk, I thought it would be fine.” You hear Mat let out a cuss, the words sounding far away. You can hear his fingers swiping on his screen before he swears again, the sound of a grunt a thump before his voice is close to your ear again.

“I’m on my way - stay on the phone with me, okay?” You nod again, glancing once more over your shoulder the men are closing on you now.

Mat’s breathing heavily into the phone, reminding you to keep walking.

He’ll be there soon, he promises.

The hand lands out your arm roughly, your body swung around to face them.

“I asked you to wait.” The man groans, he couldn’t have been more than mid twenties, you wish he knew how scared you were right now.

“My boyfriend is on his way to come get me. I’m not interested.” You speak confidently, you can hear the muffled sounds of Mat saying something into the phone, but you can’t make out the words, your arm dropping to your side as the man's friends stop around the two of you.

“Let me go.” You say, firm in your words.

“But you haven’t even heard me out yet.” The man whines, his tone similar to that of an upset child. “Please give me a chance.” He whines again, his hand still clamped on your arm. The man is clearly drunk, his friends goading him on.

“I bet she’s lying.” One says.

“She probably doesn’t even have a boyfriend.” The other adds.

“Show her what she’s missing out on.” The last one says.

The man in front of you pauses, his eyes flicking over your shoulder, heavy steps stopping behind you, the man’s hand loosening slowly.

“Didn’t your mothers ever teach you boys manners?” Mats voice hisses from beside you, his hand reaching out to close around the drunk stranger's wrist, the man releasing you quickly.

“Don’t fucking touch what isn’t yours.” Mat sneers, his body moving in front of your as he pushes the man away from the two of you.

The men are smart.

They retreat quickly, excuses falling from their mouths.

“Sorry man.” One sighs.

“Didn’t mean any harm.” The other adds.

Mat glares at the back of them as they stumble back down the street to the bar, their attention finding some other people to focus on.

“You ran all the way here?” You ask.

“Yes.” Mat responds.

“Are you mad at me?” You question quietly, Mat’s chest heaving, as he runs his fingers through his hair.

“What?” He asks, spinning on the spot to face you, letting out a long sigh as he reaches for you, his arms wrapping around your head to pull you into his chest, his hands stroke your hair as he lets out another long breath.

“I’m mad at myself.” He says quietly. “I told you I would come get you as soon as you messaged and I was an idiot and fell asleep.”

“It’s okay.” You grumble into his chest, your words muffled by his thick hoodie.

“I was so scared.”

“So was I.” You agree, pulling your head away from his chest to look up at him, smiling as you pull yourself out of his arms, reaching to latch your hand in his as you pull him to start walking besides you.

“I can’t believe you ran all the way to help me.” You chuckle softly, finally tucking your phone back into your pocket, the danger ebbing away as you watch your boyfriend's shoulders slump as he shakes his head in disbelief.

“I can’t believe I did, either.”

#mat barzal #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #nhl fic #mat barzal fanfic #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal imagine #prompt #prompt request

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secret-gallavich · 1 day

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Thank you @callivich for this weeks @galladrabbles coincidently picking a prompt by a band that has been in my rotations lately and based on an irl conversation I’ve had.

Prompt: Blur

Blur is playing from Mickey’s shitty speakers as they make out lazily on the bed. Ian had initiated it with a sweet peck but Mickey wanted more. He always wanted more when it came to Ian.

The next song on the album plays as Mickey swings a leg over Ian’s hips, breathlessly singing along when they’re lips aren’t attached.

It’s fun but Ian thinks otherwise.

‘Why do you even like this band’ Ian mumbles as he pulls away.

Mickey furrows his eyebrows and glances over at Ians discarded ‘Gorillaz’ tee.

‘It’s the same singer as your shirt, fuckwit’

‘Wait, what?’

#gallavich #mickey milkovich #ian gallagher #galladrabbles #prompt #drabble #shameless #blur

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pettyprompts · 3 days

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“Wow, this face is much better than the one before.”

“Thanks, asshole. Guess I’ll never be myself again.”

#writing prompt #prompt #writing #mine #dialogue prompt #writing prompts #prompts #dialogue prompts #writing inspiration

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sarehime · 2 days

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Karlach: Can I kiss you? Astarion: *sigh* I don't want you to have to ask for permission to touch or kiss me yet you are the only person who ask permission. I hate that.

Karlach: But you love me because of that right?

Astarion: Yes but because more than that too, you know. I love you because you are you and you should be respected and trusted before loved. So, you don’t need to ask permission always, my love. Don’t forget that I also miss your touch so much.

*they smile each other*

#baldur #bg3 #astarion #astarion bg3 #karlach #karlach bg #astarion x karlach #astarlach #starlach #hellspawn #firefangs #fireblood #bloodengine #prompt

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writing-promptsss · 3 days

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Prompt #32

"I'm running out of ideas. My head feels empty."

"Did you ever have a coherent thought in that thick skull of yours?"

"Shut up!"

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mappingthesky · 2 days

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“why am I always your second choice?" + planymphia 🤭

i am SO glad you asked for this anon, bc i've had something along these lines in the works for a while now.. this isn't exactly that, but here's something very close and very angsty:

There's so, so much that Nymphia loves about Jane, but right now, as Jane is storming through the apartment, there are a few things that Nymphia hates.

Nymphia hates that Jane is hurting. She hates that she's so angry she doesn't want to be touched or spoken to, that something has her shutting the door and turning on the shower and standing under the hot water until it runs runs cold. What Nymphia really hates more than anything is that she doesn't know what's wrong. That Jane has twisted her mind into tight, angry knots, and won't let Nymphia close enough to untangle them.

Nymphia sits in bed, sort of nauseated by the whole thing. There's something that unsettles her about seeing Jane, bold and unabashed and fearless Jane, so distressed. She feels helpless against it, like she's watching a storm cloud darken the sky and doesn't know the right words to quell the rain.

When Jane finally shuffles into the room she's wet-haired and puffy-eyed and silent. Nymphia's heart sinks. She knows what's going to happen next: Jane will be quiet. She'll keep her back turned while she pulls the t-shirt over her head, towels her hair, chews on her cheek. The conversation goes exactly like she thinks it will: Nymphia says something like 'baby', and it sounds like a plea, even though she hasn't asked anything yet. Jane doesn't respond, and Nymphia tries again, because she's never ready to give up on Jane.

"Hey," Nymphia crawls to the end of the bed, "what's wrong?"

"I'm okay, Nymph." Jane's voice is thin and flat and wholly unconvincing.

"No you're not." Nymphia's voice is tender and dripping with worry. "Talk to me."

Jane finally turns, not meeting Nymphia's eyes. "It's fine, babe. I don't want to talk about it."

Not with me, Nymphia thinks, because she knows what will happen when she presses. Jane's going to say something like-

"I'm good, I promise. I think I'm gonna call Saph, or Morphine, or something, and then-. "

"Jane," Nymphia hears her own voice, desperate and hardened, interjecting. And then she doesn't know what's going to happen next, because this hasn't happened before. "Can't you talk to me about this?"

Nymphia keeps trying, "I'm here, I'm listening," but Jane's already shaking her head and starting, "Nymph-".

"No," the words that have been collecting in a hard lump at the back of Nymphia's throat suddenly shift free, coming out hard and firm and desperate. "Don't shut me out on this, Jane. Please."

Jane's mouth twists and she catches her tongue between her teeth, looking like she's desperate to escape. "Just give me a few minutes with them, okay? I'll be off the phone in ten minutes and then we can just-"

"Why can't you tell me what's going on? No really, Jane. Why?" Nymphia's voice is strained, and then she feels sort of terrible because she's supposed to be comforting Jane, but her own eyes are prickling with tears when she says, "don't you trust me?"

Jane's sigh is the sound of heartbreak, and then she crosses the room to sit on the edge of the bed. Her hand finds Nymphia's shoulder and her eyes search for Nymphia's face, but she's turned away and twisting her face to hold back her tears.

"Baby," Jane smooths her hair, tucking a long, dark strand behind Nymphia's ear. "Of course I trust you, you know I do."

Nymphia sniffles. "So why can't you just talk to me about this? Why is it always someone else? Why am I always your second choice?"

"Hey. Look at me." Jane's hand moves to the small of Nymphia's back, eyes pointed with guilt when she finally faces Jane with downturned, watery eyes. "You're never my second choice, alright? Never. I never want to hear you say that again."

Nymphia chews on the inside of her cheek. She knows, and still she doesn't. Jane's expression is heavy with concern and sharpened with guilt and after a while she can't look at Nymphia anymore, because it hurts that she's the reason Nymphia thought, even for a second, that there was anyone Jane could ever put above her. The feeling slices through her, cutting deep enough to expose what she's really thinking.

"It's hard for me. To talk about this stuff," Jane says. Its a start.

Nymphia peers over, thinking for a while. "It's hard for me too," she offers quietly. "You know that. But I tell you everything, Jane."

"I know." One corner of Jane's mouth lifts into the hint of a smile, a break in the clouds. "I envy that about you, y'know. How you can just say how you're feeling."

"It's not so hard with you," Nymphia sniffles and picks at her cuticles. "Not for me."

"I'm glad, baby. You can always tell me how you're feeling." Jane says. It's a bit ironic, almost a cop out. The question Nymphia doesn't ask hangs heavy in the air. She doesn't have to say anything, Jane knows.

"I don't know," Jane says after a while, a bit tentative, her hand softening on Nymphia's shoulder. "Saph, she's gotten me through a lot. Seen the worst of it, I guess, and... well, you know how she is."

Nymphia nods, because she does know, but it's not enough. "I just want you to be able to talk to me like that. You know you can, don't you? I would never judge you."

"Yeah, I know," Jane nods, eyes unfocused and somewhere far off. "I guess.. I just get so angry sometimes. I don't know why. I don't want you to see that." There's something more ghosting behind her lips, and Nymphia doesn't think she's going to let it out. And then, Jane surprises her. "I don't want to scare you," Jane splits herself open, her voice almost a whisper.

Jane sounds so small, so vulnerable when she says it that Nymphia can't stop her bottom lip from curling into a pout. Its true, what Nymphia says when she reaches out to touch Jane's face, when Jane's eyes meet her own:

"I'm not afraid."

Jane looks back reverently. In her eyes, still red and puffy, there's a hint of a glimmer. A ray of light piercing through the darkened sky. "You promise?"

"Promise," Nymphia holds out her pinky, kissing her thumb when Jane links her own little finger and does the same. "I hate to tell you this, but you're not as scary as you think. Can you tell me what's wrong now?"

Jane sighs and flops back on the bed. And Nymphia's there - watching, coaxing, waiting. Nymphia's always going to be there. Knowing this, Jane finally lets it happen - the surrender of her entire self, the soft parts, the ugly. It happens, and when she's done talking about it and there are tears staining her cheeks and she's starting to feel just a little bit lighter, she looks over. Nymphia is still there, still loving her, and looking at her with an unexpected smile that says something like you can't scare me off so easily.

#she writes #planymphia #it would be nice if i could write something casually and not turn it into a novel but alas #prompt

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waywardangel-wilds · 3 days

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here’s a funny prompt i think about too often:

person a say “bye, love you” before leaving and person b just says bye. person a starts freaking out and refuses to leave because person b won’t say love you back

honestly katniss and peeta could be either a or b in this situation

I um made another funny one...

"So, if you're hungry all you gotta do is --Haymitch!"

Peeta looked up, stifling a laugh as he watched Katniss stomp her foot like a toddler. "Are you even listening to me?!" She demanded of their former mentor.

"I get it, I get it. If starving, put food in microwave. Do not put metal in microwave. Do not call you, at all. If kids are in danger, call you." Haymitch burped and at his side, Willow giggled. "I get it."

"Yeah mama, we get it!" Little Rye pipped up from Haymitch's other side. Haymitch smiled down at him and ruffled his blonde hair.

"See?" he asked, looking at Katniss with a sense of superiority. "We're all good, so scat."

Katniss stared down at him with her arms crossed. Haymitch kept channel surfing. "Okay well, we're only a few hours away, if anything happens--"

"Yeah, yeah. Just go, alright?"

Katniss huffed a little and glanced over at her husband who shrugged. Accepting that she wasn't going to get anything else out of her old mentor she started to walk away, "Well fine. Bye, love you!"

"Love you mama!" The kids pipped up while Haymitch laughed.

"Okay, sweetheart. I guess you're alright."

"I wasn't telling you. That was for the kids!"

"Whatever you say," Haymitch settled on a kid's show he knew Willow and Rye could agree on. "See ya later."

"I'm serious!" Katniss refused to leave the room.

"Okay, sweetheart," Haymitch repeated.

"Stop it!"

"If it'll get you to leave, I love you too girl. Peeta! Love you, son!"

Peeta cringed, "Oh god. Please don't"

"Happy now? Go away Katniss."

"I--"

Peeta reached over and took his wife's wrist. He really wanted to eat something before the restaurant closed. "Come on, Katniss. Bye, kids!"

"Bye, Daddy!"

#the hunger games #thg #everlark #peeta mellark #katniss everdeen #fanfic #everlark prompt #prompt #prompts #story prompts #writing prompt

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