rykerevans

[rykerevans]

hate what hockey culture does to me. like violence in sports is terrible! anyways you need to beat the shit out of that guy.

[rykerevans]

mack with pride tape 🌈

[rykerevans]

© Jeff Vinnick, Andy Devlin

[rykerevans]

[SMITHY] during the game against the wild 12.01.2025

[rykerevans]

━ 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄

˗ˏˋ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ˎˊ˗

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — best friend!jack hughes x reader 𝐰𝐜 — 2.3k 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 — in order to avoid the annual interrogation into his love life, jack hughes enlists his longtime friend to be his totally platonic plus-one for the holidays.

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — this is so cavity-inducing it makes me sick (affectionate) and why did i do the boys so dirty in this oml

“Why is Luke hitting on your girlfriend?”

Jack Hughes groans.

Not this shit again.

Was it really that strange for him to bring a friend home for the holidays?

A strictly platonic, no ulterior motives friend. A good friend, one who also saw him as nothing more than a friend.

He didn’t think so, but with how his family reacted, you would have thought he rode in on a unicycle dressed like a clown. All he did was invite a plus-one.

Sure, it was the first time since high school, but still. The sky didn’t turn purple, and Jack was pretty sure the planet would keep spinning. Not to mention, this is exactly what they wanted.

His family pestered him relentlessly about his love life—or, more accurately, a lack thereof—so he assumed they’d shift their interrogation to one or both of his brothers if he brought someone home, romantic or not. 

The whole point of a “holidate” (you) tagging along was to avoid questions, not elicit more. His plan was back-firing.

Epically.

Though less evident in your presence, not once had anyone asked him something unrelated to you.

His great-aunt wanted to know how he asked you to be his girlfriend, and Husband #4 wanted to know how he tricked you into going out with him in the first place.

(Jack was offended by this. He thinks himself to be quite a catch.)

His gaggle of younger cousins needed to know when the wedding was and if they’d get to be in it, a line of questioning that quickly evolved into an open audition for Flower Girls and Ring Bearers.

The older ones weren’t any better. Their onslaught was overtly critical and lacked the endearing innocence of its predecessor. One had a problem with the gift he picked out for you (it wasn’t “romantic enough,” as if a sixteen-year-old even knew what that meant), and another was disappointed he hadn’t taken advantage of the mistletoe above the garage door. A few swiftly agreed you were too good for him after Jack let slip you decorated his apartment because he was too busy—and aesthetically-challenged. 

His nana asked if he had "acquired a ring yet." When he told her he hadn’t, she offered one straight off her finger before he could explain why jewelry wasn’t necessary. She then launched into a spirited pitch for “finally getting some grandbabies.” 

Apparently, the rest of his family had a hefty bet going on who out of the three brothers would settle down first. Quinn, by default as the eldest, seemed like a sure thing for a few years, but seeing as his date for this year’s Christmas Eve dinner was a six-pack of Bud Light, it wasn’t challenging to put Jack, unwittingly, in the lead.

“For the millionth time, she is not my girlfriend,” Jack replies, not bothering to water down his irritation.

His older brother was annoying, so that did factor into his sour mood, but Jack was mainly frustrated with his younger brother for robbing him of his holidate and monopolizing her charm for his gain.

If Luke wanted someone to cart around the room, he should’ve brought one of his own instead of stealing his. You agreed to be Jack’s smoke and mirrors, not his little brother’s.

The thief has you roped into a conversation with a second cousin’s fiancé surrounding her impending nuptials. He knows this because the interaction began with her holding out her left hand so you could admire the massive rock weighing down her ring finger. You’re listening attentively as she goes on and on about the frivolous details. At one point, she pulls out her phone to show you something, and you visibly and genuinely gush, a hand over your heart.

Luke looks bored but satisfied with himself. 

Jack would be, too, if he had you as a human shield. Without a buffer, he was fair game.

Quinn smirks. “True, but you want her to be. Oh, that reminds me. If you are actually as platonic as you claim to be, you might want to remind Mom you need separate beds before she auctions off our guest room to the drunkest bidder. Unless, of course, curling up on Spider-Man sheets directly in front of a lifesize cardboard cutout of Crosby is some kind of freaky kink of yours.”

“Fuck off,” Jack hisses as he shoves his brother away from him.

“What? I don’t think it's that crazy to assume you’d get off on that, given how much of a die-hard you were growing up. You hero-worshiped the guy,” Quinn says between bouts of laughter. "I don't judge. Whatever foreplay you need, dude." 

“Do me a favor, would’ya?” Quinn nods, too tipsy to see he’s walking straight into a trap. “Go bother literally anyone else before I dunk your head in the eggnog.”

He does, head thrown back, cackling at his younger brother’s melodramatic threat. Jack doesn’t care if Quinn makes fun of him so long as he does it from six feet away. At least.

“Thank you, again, for doing this. I know my family is a lot—and don't really understand the concept of boundaries," Jack says in greeting when you manage to slip away from Luke and back to his side. 

Your expression lifts into a pretty smile.

“There’s no need to thank me, Jack. I’m enjoying myself. Everyone’s been so warm and welcoming.” 

“Really?”

“Really,” you affirm with a nod. “Your family has been on their best behavior.”

That’s because they want you to join us indefinitely, Jack muses.

However, now that he’s thinking about it, you becoming a more permanent fixture of Hughes holidays wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. It might devolve into that for you eventually, but Jack would never tire of having you as an anchor.

He was already planning on asking if you were interested in tagging along next year, but why put an expiration date on the invitation? It's not like he would have an actual date to bring. 

Before Jack can broach the subject, you’re pulled away by the herd of Flower Girl hopefuls. He expects you to look back with a pleading “Save me!�� look in your eyes, but you don’t. You don’t even glance over your shoulder, already too engaged in whatever game of make-believe his cousins conjured up this time.

Jack's body warms as he stands in the corner of the living room. The happy kind of heat that spreads from your chest down to your toes and out to your fingertips. The kids are having a blast dancing between the couches and around the other guests, but you’re having just as much fun twirling them around. There’s so much giggling and smiling; it's infectious.

“Your girlfriend is a natural,” his dad says fondly as the children crowd you like their very own celebrity.

“Huh?” Jack murmurs, only half listening.

He’s too busy watching you hoist a giggling five-year-old into the infamous Dirty Dancing lift. Your arms are straight, glued to your ears. Jack smiles. He taught you that in his living room.

“Don’t let her be the one that gets away, okay?”

Jim wanders off to help his wife gather everyone for dinner, leaving Jack to chew on his dad’s request in solitude.

He winds himself so deeply into his head that he doesn’t notice you coming towards him until you’re face-to-face.

“Shall we?” you ask, eyes as bright as the tree behind you.

Jack nods, gulping down the strange feeling, and holds out his arm. He thinks he hears your breath catch as you thread your arm through to rest a hand in the crook of his elbow. 

You’re probably just surprised and maybe even a little confused. He’s never overtly chivalrous with anyone unless it's for a bit. Or in front of his mom. Neither of which is at play presently. You're alone in the hallway.

Jack just felt like being a gentleman. It's the least he could do after talking you into spending the holiday weekend with his nutty family and their big mouths. 

As Jack guides you through his childhood home, he does his best to ignore how much he likes the feeling of your shoulders brushing.

In the dining room, he pulls out a chair for you. While tucking you in, he catches his brothers mocking him in his peripheral vision.

Sensing his vexation, you snatch the bottle nearest you and fill a glass with wine. Wordlessly, you slide it into his palm. He takes half the heavy pour in one gulp and affectionately squeezes your shoulder. Immediately, Jack wishes he would’ve waited to do that until he could blame it on a buzz. It’s one simple touch, but that’s enough to make him feel like a complete weirdo.

He didn’t want you to misinterpret the gesture. Your friendship works so well because neither of you has tried to make it more. Maybe it was his anxiety talking, but Jack’s reasonably certain he’s wrecked everything.

The remainder of the wine goes quickly. 

“But I wanted to sit next to her!” Jack’s youngest cousin whines to his aunt from across the table.

“You’ve hogged her all night, honey. She’s Jack’s date; we should let him spend time with her. Maybe she’ll help you build your fort later if you behave during dinner.”

You nod and wink at the little girl. She, aglow with glee, claps her little hands together. Her mother quietly mouths her gratitude to you. 

“Who knew I was such a hot commodity?” you lean over and whisper to Jack.

It’s a lighthearted joke, but Jack feels a twinge of jealousy. He wasn’t a jealous person, especially with you. And, objectively, it was stupid to be upset over the demands of a child. 

The sole purpose of a “holidate” is to shift the attention away from him and, presumably, onto you. Jack hadn’t thought about how possessive the blatant division of your attention would make him feel.

Something shifted tonight; he wants to be selfish with you. 

As his mom pulls you into a conversation about your plans for New Year's Eve, Jack takes your hand in his. He waits for you to pull away. Instead, you squeeze his hand. Once, twice, then a final time. The fluttery nerves in his stomach dissipate.

Luke nudges Quinn, pointing his fork at your conjoined hands resting atop the table. They grin but say nothing.

Throughout the meal, his thumb absentmindedly rubs over yours. He hadn’t meant to, and when he realizes, Jack is hit with a sudden rush of clarity. 

He isn’t bothered that everyone assumes you’re together; he’s bothered that you aren’t.

The epiphany terrifies him.

The feeling of falling in love is very much like the feeling of a nightmare, like being sucked into an all-consuming black hole, entirely at its mercy and unable to save yourself.

He worries that once he starts falling, he might never stop. He’ll lose his bearings and his mind along with them. Jack couldn’t handle that kind of uncertainty. He couldn’t imagine forfeiting so much control over his own life.

Jack never wanted to fall in love, but he already had.

After dinner, Ellen sends the two of you to fetch more firewood from the shed. He can feel your unease as he trudges through the snow ahead of you.

It rose to the surface when he yanked his hand away before dessert and mounted steadily the quieter he became. You attempted to coax him into small talk with witty jokes and anecdotes from the time you spent separated tonight, but he couldn’t bring himself to participate much, if at all.

Eventually, you gave up and turned back to his mom for conversation. Jack didn’t blame you. He wasn’t the best company.

“Jack?” Your voice quivers.

It’s distant, literally and figuratively. He wonders when you stopped walking, but it doesn’t matter.

He halts his movements, but he’s too afraid to turn around. If he sees your eyes, he might say something he won’t be able to take back.

“Did I do something wrong? I feel like you’re mad at me. Or, at the very least, upset with me. Please, Jack, tell me what’s wrong so that I can fix it.”

His heart sprinters at your sincerity. In an instant, Jack relinquishes his fears and strides across the yard to cup your face with his hands. Your cheeks are freezing, but so are his palms. There are tears in your eyes threatening to spill over and meet his touch. He’s so close he can smell your perfume, perforated by his shampoo that you borrowed this morning.

Strange look on his face, he whispers as though divulging his most intimate secret, “You’re my best friend.”

Because, in every way that matters, he is.

The dam breaks, then. Salty streams escape your eyes, slipping between your lower lashes to pool on his fingers. If it weren’t for the faint smile pulling on your lips, Jack would’ve thought you didn’t understand what he meant or that you didn't feel the same.

“I know,” you tell him softly. “You’re mine, too.”

Jack doesn’t even get to react before your lips catch his. He repays your courage so instantaneously and urgently that your mutual admission hasn’t fully sunk in when his tongue slips in to greet yours.

You fist his sweater as if he might pull away any second. Jack strokes his thumbs over your skin to assure you he won’t. Now—or ever.

This kiss—wonderful and everything—is the culmination of every smile shared in confidence, every terrible karaoke duet, countless movie marathons, and too many midnights to count. It feels so natural, so obvious. How he never once thought you’d arrive here is an enigma.

A chorus of whistles and applause erupts from the back porch.

Embarrassed, you attempt to separate from him, but Jack’s insistent lips persuade you to stay despite the growing audience. Now that he’s gotten a taste—of both your mouth and honest affection, Jack’s not budging for anything. 

When he was a kid, his mom told him that people only get a few “snow globe moments” in their lifetime. Perfect glimmers of happiness that you want to encase in a bubble and keep pristine forever. Jack never knew what she meant, not really.

Not until you kissed him. 

“Fucking finally!” Quinn shouts.

Behind your back, Jack flips him the bird.

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[rykerevans]

it’s enough to make a girl blush | adam larsson x reader x vince dunn

summary: after an accident, your husband helps vince apologize to you properly

warnings: alcohol mention, smut (oral f/m receiving, handjob, f/m, m/m, f/m/m, praise kink, threesome)

a/n: I actually have no answer for this one but i do blame @loulucifer for brainwashing me. so thanks. anyways enjoy!

xoxo

nina

Swedish Vocab:

Älskling - Darling

Raring - Dear

Skynda - Hurry

Adam’s guilty pleasure is that he loves hosting. A bit standoffish and broody, most wouldn’t assume him to be the hosting type but he takes great pleasure in showing off the home you two share and having his close friends within the four walls. 

Tonight was one of those nights where your husband took pride in hosting some of his teammates, cooking them dinner, and showing off the newly remodeled living room. The night had wound down to just a few stragglers sharing drinks in your living room, the room peaceful and enjoyable. 

“Älskling, will you grab some more wine,” Adam whispers into your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “Promise everyone will leave soon so I can take care of you.”

You respond with a nod and a kiss on Adam’s cheek, his fingers squeezing your ass just enough to tease what he’d do later. He’d slowly been teasing you all night, another thing he loved to do while hosting. 

Quickly, you refill your glass of Merlot before turning to bring the bottle out to the living room but instead run straight into a solid body. Red wine drips down your light blue blouse as you let out a shocked yelp. Thankfully you manage to keep both the bottle and the glass in your hands as the person in front of you mutters apologies. 

“Oh shit, I am so sorry,” Vince Dunn, Adam’s linemate, looks at you with absolute horror. He scrambles, grabs the roll of paper towels on the counter, and kneels to wipe up the liquid on the floor. “I wasn’t looking and fuck I’m so sorry.”

“Vince, it’s no big deal,” you place a hand on his shoulder and he looks up at you with wide green eyes. “I’m just going to run upstairs and hop in the shower. Seriously, it’s fine.”

“Älskling? Everything okay?” Adam appears in the doorway to the kitchen and looks between you and Vince who’s still kneeling on the floor. 

“All good. I’m going to wash off the wine,” you slip past Vince and press a kiss to Adam’s cheek before whispering to him with a smile. “Skynda, raring.”

You make your way upstairs and strip before stepping into the warm spray of the shower. The one thing you’d insisted on when you and Adam had looked for a house was a large bathroom with a shower and soaking bathtub. The shower boasted two shower heads, a sleek black tile backdrop, and a huge glass door. As you close the door, the warm spray of the shower washes over you and you gladly sigh in relief as your body relaxes. 

Not even fifteen minutes later the bathroom door creaks open and you smirk to yourself before calling out to your husband, “I’ve been waiting for you, raring. Thinking about this moment all night long.” 

“Älskling, Vince wants to apologize to you.”

You whip around and find Vince standing in front of the shower entrance, looking anywhere but at you. Adam stands behind him, a smirk on his face as his eyes stay locked on the younger man and his flushed cheeks. 

“He’s shaking like a leaf Adam,” you tut as you look over Vince. “It was just an accident, no need to be so harsh.”

“S-sorry about the wine,” Vince looks up from the floor and meets your eyes, not daring to look anywhere else. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

“S’okay Vince,” you assure him with a smile. He seems to calm down but as you meet Adam’s fiery gaze over Vince’s shoulder you know that trouble is brewing. “Raring-“

“Vince needs to learn a lesson, älskling,” Adam's voice is commanding as he lays a hand on Vince’s shoulder. “Strip.”

“But I-“

“Strip, Vince,” Adam commands. “So you can properly apologize.”

To his credit, Vince only pauses for a moment before he strips off his dark polo and shoes. His hands shake a little as he unbuttons his jeans and slides them down his legs. He’s all lean muscle and long limbs, a stark contrast compared to Adam’s thick arms and legs and toned torso. 

“All the way,” Adam mutters once Vince is down to his boxers. “C’mon Vince.”

Finally fully naked, Vince looks younger than he is as he stares at you, uncertainty clouding his features as he meets your eyes through the glass of the shower door. 

“Go on,” Adam pulls the door open and pushes Vince under the warm spray. “Kneel and apologize properly to my wife.”

You take a step towards Vince, your hands gently, pushing his shoulders until he’s on his knees before you. His eyes flick to yours, wide and unsure through the green haze of his irises. 

“You’ve gone down on a woman before, haven’t you Vince?” you ask with a smirk on your face as his cheeks flush. Even with the dark blush marring his cheeks Vince nods and you smile at him, running a hand quickly through his curls. “Good. Then you can make up for ruining my favorite blouse.”

Vince hesitates slightly before one hand curls around your leg to bring your body closer to his. His fingers drift up your thigh and slowly run through your folds, his tongue following their path. You let out a gasp as he slowly drives one finger into your wet folds and his tongue teases your clit.

“Oh my god,” you breathe out as you let one hand drift back to Vince’s now wet curls. “So good… Just like that Vince.”

You watch Adam observe the two of you, his erection straining in his dark slacks. His eyes meet yours just as Vince’s tongue delves into you and elicits a deep moan from you. You maintain eye contact with Adam as Vince continues to fuck you with his tongue, his fingers teasing your clit as he moves.

“Vince. So good baby,” you moan as your eyes flutter shut. “Such a good boy on your knees for me. So good for me, aren’t you?”

Vince nods and sucks your clit into his mouth just as Adam steps under the spray, his hands coming to squeeze your breasts as he pulls you into his chest. 

“He’s so good with his tongue, raring,” you gasp as Vince circles your clit again, your head falling back onto Adam’s shoulder. “So- fuck. So good. Want you to feel him, Adam.” 

Adams' erection presses into your back as he holds you close. In the same moment, Vince plunges two fingers into you and your orgasm claims you, your mouth agape as you tremble with pleasure. Adam holds you up as Vince continues to tongue you through your climax. 

When you come back down from your high Adam is kissing your neck, Vince’s lips pressed to your thigh. Adam is rutting against your ass but you push him off and motion to Vince who’s still kneeling at your feet, “Vince will take care of you, raring.” 

You smile as you run a hand down Vince's cheek, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment before he looks back up to you. His bright eyes are no longer clouded with uncertainty but with lust now, “Won’t you, sweet boy? Take care of Adam like you took care of me? Use your tongue so well for him?”

Vince nods before he looks with uncertainty toward Adam, “I mean… If Adam wants.. Then I-“

Adam cuts Vince off by leaning down to cover his mouth with his own. The kiss doesn’t last long before Adam breaks them apart and nods at you, “You take care of our guest, älslking?”

You simply grin as Vince greedily takes Adam into his mouth, a string of Swedish curses falling from Adam at the motion. You kneel behind Vince, pressing your lips to his neck as you trail your hand down his chest towards his dripping cock. 

“Such a mess for me, baby,” you purr in Vince’s ear, eliciting a moan from him as you ignore his dick and slowly move down to cup his balls. “You want me to touch you while you suck off my husband? Can you taste us both on your tongue?”

“Raring,” Adam warns. “If you talk like that I’m not going to last long.”

You blink innocently up at Adam as you whisper in Vince’s ear, “Such a good boy, using your tongue so well for me, for Adam. I bet you can’t wait to swallow all of his cum huh? You want him so bad, don’t you?”

With a grunt, Adam grabs Vince’s face and holds him still as he comes down his throat. A strangled cry leaves Vince as his own release spills over onto your hands. Taking everything in with wide eyes you keep one hand slowly stroking Vince while the other gently strokes Adam’s thigh. The feeling of the two of them in your hold has your heart beating in double-time.

“Raring,” Adam whispers, a gentle coaxing. “Raring, time to get up. C’mon my love.”

Your eyes open slowly, taking in the surroundings that are definitely not the floor of your shower. When you finally look around you’re met with Adam’s smirk as he looks down at you, one hand stroking through your hair softly.

“Good dream?” Adam asks and your cheeks immediately flush as you hide your face in your pillow. “Sounded good to me.”

“Adam…,” you groan as you peek up at him.

“It’s okay, raring,” Adam soothes as he grins at you. “But maybe Vince can join us soon, if you’re a good girl.”

[rykerevans]

sparks fly - will borgen

will borgen x fem!reader (part social media)

summary: you bring you favourite player a birthday gift at a kraken practice

warnings: this is pure delusion lol enjoy, fluff 🧸 please pretend the game on dec.20th was at home not in california

word count: 1.8k (i had to split it in 2 parts)

10:39am - you

you smiled excitedly as you snapped a picture of the ice, waiting for the kraken to come out for their practice. it was always fun getting to see the team on the ice in a slightly less stressful environment; no points on the line as they got ready for their next game. at the few practices you had been to, you normally didn’t try to draw much attention to yourself. you weren’t too confident in your artistic ability, so bringing a sign was out of the question, but you were hoping you would be able to get the attention of one specific player today.

it was a long shot and you knew that, but with it being your favourite player, will borgen’s birthday tomorrow, you were hoping to get a chance to give him a gift. it was overdone at this point, a simple beaded friendship bracelet with his number on it, but you wanted to show your appreciation for the kraken defensemen. there was a fair number of people scattered around the glass with signs as the players came out and skated around, and you felt yourself growing nervous. you were starting to regret not bringing a sign, and decided to type out a message on your phone in case any players came close enough to read it.

you held your phone up against the glass, and to your relief it wasn’t long before someone skated past and stopped to read it. matty beniers squinted at the small font, but smiled at you and raised his hand to say ‘one second’, before skating off towards the others. you watched as he tapped borgen on the shoulder, pointing in your direction as he said something you couldn’t hear from so far away.

you smiled as number 3 skated over to you, and you quickly typed out happy birthday on your phone to show him. he smiled back at you as you held up the bracelet, and he gestured for you to toss it over the glass. you surprisingly managed to get it to him in one try, will catching it in his bare hand, having removed his glove.

“thank you,” he said, his voice muffled by the glass and the noise of the other players skating around.

“you’re welcome,” you smiled, and he tapped the glass softly with his gloved hand before skating a few feet away to grab a stray puck off the ice, and motioning to you that he was going to toss it over the glass to you. you nodded, catching it carefully in your hands. he smiled at you one more time before joining okeksiak as he skated by, heading back to the rest of the guys.

heart still pounding in your chest, you went back to your seat, posting a picture you had taken earlier on your story while you waited for the guys to actually begin the practice.

distracted as you looked down at your phone, you failed to notice the pale green set of eyes that lingered on you from the ice. your eyes drifted towards him instinctively, and there was a weird feeling in your stomach; kind of like butterflies but more like tiny fireworks. is this what people mean when they say they feel a spark? you thought. okay, you needed to relax; there was no way he was even looking at you..right?

•

2:10pm - will

“earth to will,” vince snapped his fingers in front of his face, bringing borgen back to earth and out of the trance he was in.

“sorry, what did you say?” he asked. will and a few of the guys were currently out for lunch after practice, and will had in fact been zoned out the whole time.

“i said what are you thinking about? you’ve been out of it since practice ended.”

“oh, nothing- sorry,” will tried to brush it off.

“he’s thinking about the win we’re gonna get tomorrow for his birthday and how we’re gonna celebrate, right borgy?” tanev asked with a grin, and will laugh, taking a sip of his drink.

“yeah!” he laughed, raising his drink for the guys to toast to a hopeful win over the la kings the next day. as will lifted his glass, matty noticed a blue bracelet on his wrist, and smiled to himself. he looked at will and raised his eyebrows before nodding towards his wrist. borgen blushed a light shade of pink, carefully adjusting his jacket sleeve to cover the birthday present. he was grateful that matty didn’t say anything out loud; though he was sure he would hear about it later.

back at home that night, will was scrolling through instagram, checking his feed to see what his friends had posted. he liked and replied to a few early birthday wishes messages, before deciding to check his tagged photos. there were a few from friends, and some from fans who had been at the practice, until his heart skipped a beat as he saw a familiar bracelet.

along with it was a photo from the practice, and a quick look at the profile confirmed that is was you, the girl he’d met at the iceplex; the person who had been on his mind ever since. will had never experienced something like this before - he had met and been gifted things by fans in the past, but you were stuck in his mind like glue.

will felt slightly like he was invading your privacy as he scrolled through your photos, but you wouldn’t have tagged him in the post if you hadn’t wanted him to see it.. right? he smiled at a carousel of photos of you goofing around with your friends, and recognized a few locations around the city in photos.

will saw that you had recently added to your story: a photo of him from the practice, and he found himself smiling again.

he double tapped on the story, a little heart appearing in the corner, and he was considering replying to it, when matty walked into the room.

“hey, what’s got you smiling like a kid on christmas?” he asked, and will laughed.

“i can’t be happy on my birthday? that’s kinda like christmas.”

“you’re staring at your phone a lot and smiling - do you have a secret girlfriend or something?” matty asked, grabbing a drink from the fridge.

“no,” will shook his head. “i’m not that good a liar, if i had a girlfriend you would know.”

“you’re probably right,” matty agreed, but gestured with his hand to wills wrist. “nice bracelet, by the way.”

“it was a gift,” will defended, fiddling with the beads gently. they were different shades of blue and green, some shaped like stars, and of course, the one with his jersey number on it.

“mhm,” matty teased. “from a pretty girl.”

“what does that have to do with-“

“dude you’ve obviously been thinking about her all day,” will rolled his eyes at his friend, but he knew he was right. “maybe she’ll be at the game tomorrow.” he suggested, and wills heart skipped a beat at the idea of it. it was such an obvious possibility, but the thought of it hadn’t crossed his mind.

“so what if she was?” he asked with a lighthearted sigh.

“all i’m saying is, if you wanted to see her again…” matty defended.

“do you really think that’s a good idea?”

“you’re allowed to meet people, borgs. i get what you’re saying though, so maybe just… be careful - i guess?” he said, patting will on the shoulder as we got up and headed upstairs.

“thanks that’s…” will sighed, realizing he was now talking to himself. “not helpful.”

•

9:15am - you

you woke up in the morning, rubbing your eyes before you threw a sweater over your head, stepping into your slippers. you grabbed your phone and walked downstairs to your kitchen, making a coffee and a piece of toast for breakfast and sitting down at the island sleepily.

you are you toast and almost choked on your coffee as you looked at your phone.

if that wasn’t enough, he had also liked your story and post about the practice, and you had to convince yourself that your weren’t still asleep, having some kind of dream.

you checked about three times to make sure it was really his account, not convinced despite the verified badge next to his name; but it was.

trying to not go too crazy about the fact that your favourite player had followed you, and that you had actually interacted with him the day before, you set your phone down for a moment. you finished your coffee, quickly doing the dishes and leaving them in the drying rack before going upstairs to have a shower, hoping the cool water would wash away some of the butterflies you were feeling.

•

10:02am - will

will sat on the couch at home, a cup of coffee on the table now cold from sitting there untouched for so long. after getting some sleep, he had thought for a while about if it was a bad idea to reach out to you; matty’s advice not helping him at all. he had come to the conclusion that following you couldn’t hurt, and had done it last night before crashing, wondering in the morning if he had made a mistake, but also realizing that he was making a huge deal out of something rather small.

a new story from you appeared in his feed, and he clicked on it curiously.

he thought for a second - or maybe he didn’t think - and swiped up to reply to the story.

“hey man, if you have a girl and don’t want to tell me-“ will almost jumped at the sound of matty’s voice, not having heard him come downstairs.

“i don’t,” will insisted, which was true.

“no way- you’re texting her aren’t you? the girl who gave you the bracelet!” the younger man smiled, and will sighed.

“yeah, alright fine. i found her instagram,” will admitted.

“nice, dude. show me a picture of her,” he asked, and will showed him the most recent one. “she’s gorgeous dude, good job.”

“don’t say good job-“

“she’s into you!”

“we don’t know that,” will argued, not wanting to get ahead of himself. matty wasn’t having it, and grabbed wills hand, holding up the wrist with the bracelet, which will had decided to wear again today.

“dude, she’s so into you. just see what happens. is she coming to the game?” he asked, and will shook his head.

“i asked her, she said she doesn’t have a ticket.”

“if only we knew someone close to the team who could get her one- oh wait! we’re on the team, idiot,” matty laughed at his housemate. “send her a ticket. she gets to go to the game, and you get to see her; it’s a win win.”

“are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“borgs, i’m not saying marry her, but why not? it’s just a game.”

will nodded, quickly getting a ticket to the game and replying to your message, not meaning to have left you on read for so long.

❥ click here for part two

disclaimer: all screenshots, events, and/or interactions depicted in this are a work of fiction. i have no association with any parties mentioned

[rykerevans]

Give my all to you | Nico Hischier

Summary: It's been two years since Aurora was set up on an unwanted surprise date with Nico. He's become her best friend and her son's favorite person. Aurora finds herself wondering if this truly is all she wants from him. Title inspo: Best Part by HER & Daniel Caeser

This fic is dedicated to @wyattjohnston for her birthday bingo. Happy birthday, Demi! You are an absolute gift to this community and to my life. I hope you have the best day. Here's to 30!!! 💖 Pairing: Nico Hischier x F!OC Word count: 5.8k Bingo card tropes: match-making, single parent, FREE (friends to lovers), sworn-off love, coworkers (barely mentioned tho lol oops). Warnings: Kid fic! The kid does get injured, but he is okay! (Please let me know if I missed something) Some Swiss German words used: Schätzli (little treasure), Bärli (little bear). This fic is un-beta-ed coz I wasn't about to make you edit your own b'day fic. LOL Masterlist

I. THE PAST

Aurora has always hated being late, even when it wasn’t her fault. It wasn’t her fault the production meeting ran late. It wasn’t her fault that there was something wrong with the subway line she needed to take. It wasn’t her fault that her bag strap decided to snap, spilling its contents onto the busy 8th Avenue sidewalk halfway through her approximately twenty-block walk. She had texted Nicole to let her know she was running late; she didn’t have the wherewithal to consider how strange it was that she never got a response. 

By the time she had gotten to the restaurant, she was sweating and looking forward to a cold drink. Which is why she was even more annoyed when she couldn’t find Nicole in the restaurant. It was garnering her strange looks from the maitre d’ who had told her there was no reservation under either of their names. 

Aurora checked the location twice before stepping back onto the street and pressing ‘call’ on her phone. It was a precarious balancing act, with her bag grasped to her chest.

There was no response.

As she pressed ‘call’ again, her eyes caught sight of Nico Hischier. A pit was beginning to form in her stomach as she began to realize what was happening.

No response.

At that moment, Nico looked up and caught her eye. His smile and wave all but confirmed her suspicions.

She quickly typed out a message as she ventured back inside.

To Nicole 💁🏼‍♀️: nicole laud, what the fuck have you done. if this is what i think it is, im going to fucking kill you.

“Hi, Aurora!” Nico smiled; it was endearing, the way it dimpled his cheeks and crinkled his eyes. He stood up to give her a hug and pulled the chair out for her.

“Nico,” she said, “It’s nice to see you! Although I’m a little caught off-guard, I’m not gonna lie.”

He scrunched his brows. “Oh? What do you mean?”

“Nicole didn’t tell you?” She paused, examining his confused expression, and sighed. “She didn’t tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

“Look, Nico, I don’t know what Nicole told you to get you to come here, but this is not that. I thought I was meeting her for dinner, but it seems this has been some sort of setup. I’m really sorry if that’s not what you were expecting. Especially after waiting for me, which, I hope she at least did you the courtesy of passing along the message that I was running late?”

“She did,” Nico said.

“Well, at least there’s that,” she sighed, “I know you’re a great guy and everything, but I’m really not looking to date. At all. I mean, even if I was, I don’t date coworkers. I’m really sorry. She shouldn’t’ve done this. We can just call this a night if you want.”

Nico let a brief flicker of disappointment cross his face before schooling his expression into a soft smile. “Well, I mean, we’re already here, and you look like you might need a drink and some food. We can just have dinner as friends. Or colleagues if that’s what you prefer. I don’t mind either way. It’s up to you.”

Her stomach rumbled, reminding her of just how long it had been since she’d last eaten.

“Yeah, okay,” she said, “I’m pretty hungry, and I was really looking forward to the gnocchi.”

Despite the way the evening started, Aurora admits she had a good time. Nico was easy to talk to: open, attentive, and responsive. Maybe it was just the bottle of wine they shared, but it was rare for her to get as comfortable with someone so quickly as she did with Nico. How quickly they were both willing to share the deeply personal stories they usually kept to themselves.

Nico talked about what it was like to leave his family and move to a new country as a teenager. He shared stories of his siblings and his childhood in Switzerland. He confided in Aurora about the pressures and joys of being named an NHL captain so young.

Something about Nico made her feel safe enough to share her life story. It was rare for her to talk about her son with someone who was practically a stranger. But she found herself telling Nico about the ex-boyfriend who broke her heart at the age of 20, disappearing when she was in the third trimester of her pregnancy. 

Nico indulged her by asking her question after question about Theo; admittedly, it’s always her favorite topic of conversation. Nico seemed genuine when he mentioned that he looked forward to meeting him, even going as far as offering to take her son skating for the first time. It was a nice thought, but she didn’t think he would follow through on it.

The time passed quickly, and soon, her phone alarm was alerting her that it was time to relieve the babysitter. 

“Ah, shit,” Aurora said, “I need to get going.”

“No problem. Do you need a ride?” Nico asked, smiling warmly.

“No, it’s okay. Should we get the check?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Nico said, shaking his head, “I got this.”

“Come on,” she prodded.

“No, no. I feel bad; you were absolutely ambushed today. It’s the least I could do.”

The earnestness on his face made her pause, eventually relenting. “Okay, fine. Thank you.”

“No problem! I’m serious, though. I would really like to be friends. And I would love to take Theo skating.” He took out his phone and handed it over. “Here, type in your number, and we’ll figure out a time to make it happen.”

“Okay,” she said. She felt warm and bubbly; his smile settled her for some reason.

Later that night, after she had gotten home and checked in on her son, she responded to the two unread messages on her phone.

From [Unknown number]: It’s Nico! Lemme know if you got home okay! When do you wanna do skating? To Nico 😈: home! weekends are usually a good bet for us. especially before the reg season starts. From Nico 😈: How’s next Sunday? Maybe after practice. I can reserve some ice time at the rink.

From Nicole 💁🏼‍♀️: he thinks you’re cute! you should give it a shot. he’s a really good guy. To Nicole 💁🏼‍♀️: i know you were trying to help, but that was kinda fucked. he IS a great guy, and i think we WILL be good friends. but i’m still really pissed that you ambushed me like that. From Nicole 💁🏼‍♀️: i’m sorry. i didn’t think it through. To Nicole 💁🏼‍♀️: it’s okay. just don’t do it again.

II. THE PRESENT

[two years later]

Aurora watches as Nico chases Theo around the rink; with all the time he spends on the ice with Nico, he’s getting so good. As they skate past, Nico slows to send her a smile. She waves back.

She hears someone sit down in the seat next to her, and she doesn’t need to even turn to check who.

“Teddy’s getting good,” Nicole says.

“Yeah, he is.” Her gaze never leaves the boys going round and round the ice.

“Must be all the help he’s getting from our dearest Captain,” she laughs.

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, you know.” She knocks her shoulder into Aurora’s. “First overall. Captain of the NHL team. Not everyone gets dedicated skating lessons from someone like that.”

Aurora doesn’t respond to that, but she does let her eyes drift over the other players on the ice: Curtis with his kids, Erik with his kids, Brendan with his kids… She swallows the lump in her throat. 

“When are you and Jesp gonna have kids?” she asks.

“Shut up,” Nicole laughs, “You’re deflecting.”

“Deflecting from what?”

“Fine, we can talk about something else,” Nicole sighs. “When are you going to start dating again?”

“Oh my god, I can’t believe we have to go over this again. I don’t want to date. At all.”

“Oh, come on,” she whines, “Teddy’s seven already. It’s time. When was the last time you even got laid?”

Aurora doesn’t respond, focusing on the squeals of laughter and the scraping of blades on ice.

“Rory, I just want you to be happy,” Nicole continues gently.

“I am happy. I’ve got a great kid who I love,” she grinds out, “I just want to focus on him. He’s enough.”

“I know, Rory. Of course, he is, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t want more.”

“Well, I don’t,” she pouts. She knows it doesn’t come off nearly as resolute as she intends it to.

“I don’t believe you,” Nicole says; she sounds so sure. “You’re a romantic, Rory. You’re always reading those books and watching the shows and movies.”

When Aurora doesn’t respond, she sighs, adding, “When are you going to stop punishing yourself? And don’t say that you’re not. I know you still beat yourself up about it. You’re a great mom, Aurora. You can still be a great mom while dating.”

They let the silence linger.

“I don’t want to introduce new people into Theo’s life. I don’t want to have to explain to him why these men come and go from our lives,” she responds finally.

“Things don’t have to happen like that, you know?”

“Like what?”

“New guys coming and going.”

“What do you mean?”

“It doesn’t have to be someone new at all,” Nicole says carefully.

Aurora finally tears her eyes away from the rink and finds Nicole’s eyes boring into her own. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“Oh, come on, Aurora,” she says, rolling her eyes, “Be so fucking for real right now.”

Aurora just keeps glaring at her.

“Okay, fine, be like that,” Nicole huffs. “Be honest, how much time do you two spend with Nico? Like, every day when he’s not on a road trip, right? Nico’s down as his second emergency contact at school. He was a new guy at one point, but he sure isn’t going anywhere.”

“Nico’s different,” Aurora says, grinding her teeth together as she turns back towards the ice. 

Her eyes immediately find Nico; he’s leaning over the bench so casually, so easily, as he helps Theo with his water bottle. When he looks up, his gaze locks with hers as if he knows exactly where to look. He smiles, and she can see his dimples even from here. She feels herself smiling back. A laugh bubbles in the column of her throat when he turns back to stick his tongue out at her son.

Nicole snorts. “Yeah, he’s different, alright.”

“Yeah,” Aurora sighs, not at all picking up on the subtext. “He is. Not every guy is like him. God, I don’t even know if there are any guys like him.”

Nicole hums, “Uh-huh. So, why won’t you date Nico?”

Aurora’s head whips around so fast she has to blink at her friend for a second.

“Nico’s a really good friend. That’s it. And that’s all it will ever be,” she bites out.

“You know, he agreed to go on that date with—” She cuts herself off when she sees Aurora’s glare. “Okay, I know we don’t talk about it, but just hear me out. He wanted to go on that date with you. He’s into you.”

“Yeah, he was,” Aurora says, shaking her head. “That’s before he knew I had a full kid who I am responsible for 24 hrs a day, 7 days a week, 365 days a year. No one wants to walk into that situation. Someone like Nico definitely doesn’t want—”

“I’m gonna cut you off right there,” Nicole says. “Nico literally has lunch with you at work most days he’s here. He takes Teddy skating as much as he can. He goes with you two to museums, or zoo, or whatever, almost every week. He helps you make dinner and watches kid shows like Paw Patrol. Like, I just don’t understand why you refuse to see this, but he’s all in, Rory.”

Aurora feels her throat tighten and tries to cool the heat in her cheeks.

“Yeah, as I said. Nico’s a great person. He’s probably the best person I know. But he’s a 25-year-old NHL player. He doesn’t even date ‘cause he wants to focus on his career. He certainly doesn’t want to be tied down to a family already.”

“Oh my god,” Nicole laughs humorlessly, “Like, serious! Do you hear yourself?”

Aurora just keeps glaring back at her.

Nicole shakes her head. “You know, he used to date, right? Or, at least, hook up. Jesper says he hasn’t seen Nico pick up in well over a year. What do you think that’s about? You got an excuse for that, too?”

And for once, she doesn’t know how to respond. She didn’t know that. She has always assumed that he didn’t pick up when she was around, so she can let loose a little without having to worry about Theo too much, knowing that Nico has her back. She has always assumed that he hooked up on the road. And she doesn’t know what to do with this information.

Luckily, she doesn’t need to, as a loud thump makes her jump.

Theo’s banging on the glass in front of her with the biggest grin on his face. Nico leans against the glass a few feet over, beaming at him.

“Hi, mama!” he yells, “Nicki’s teaching me how to use my edges better when I skate backward. See?” 

He grins so wide before he puts his hands in front of him, tongue poking out of the side of his mouth, as he begins to wiggle. Aurora admits she has no idea what she’s looking for, but she smiles and cheers all the same. Her eyes flit over to Nico, and he’s tapping his stick; she recognizes the proud look on his face.

She looks away quickly, only to catch Theo losing an edge and falling to the ice. It makes her breath catch every time. Nico raps his knuckles on the glass twice before skating over to check on him. By the time he gets there, Theo’s already back on his feet, doing little hops.

She watches as Nico bends down to talk with him. They skate another lap before heading towards the exit together. She watches as Theo hops up onto the bench, and Nico kneels down to unlace his skates for him. She doesn’t know what they are chatting about, but Theo’s being especially animated.

Aurora is startled when she hears Jesper behind her; she has forgotten Nicole’s there.

“You ready to go, älskling?” he says, bending down to give her a kiss before sending Aurora a smile. “Hi, Rory.”

“Yep!” Nicole stands up, her hands sliding easily into his. She smiles at Aurora. “See ya later, yeah? Think about what I said?”

“No,” she laughs, sticking her tongue out like her son does, “Bye, you blond assholes.”

She watches Nico and Theo go down the tunnel together. Theo’s holding Nico’s hand despite telling her that holding hers was embarrassing; she tries not to be a little hurt by that. She sighs and makes her way over to the locker room. 

It doesn’t take long for them to emerge, still sweaty. Theo can’t shower at the rink, so Nico usually also skips the shower so she doesn’t have to wait. Theo chats excitedly on the way to the car. Aurora and Theo had moved into Nico’s apartment building, a few floors down, not long after they had met, so they will carpool occasionally. Those days are always Theo’s favorite.

They hit traffic on the way back, and Theo’s questions and musings gradually fade out until he passes out in the back seat. Nico and Aurora sit in companionable silence for the rest of the drive, both happy to let the kid sleep.

It does mean that Theo is cranky when he is awakened from his nap, refusing to walk and then refusing to let go of Nico to let him shower in his own apartment. She sends him an apologetic look, but he just smiles and shrugs as he carries her son back to their apartment, Theo’s cheek resting on Nico’s shoulder as he blinks at his mom lazily.

She makes dinner as the boys shower, singing and dancing along to a playlist they have been adding to for two years. She feels, more than hears, Nico returning to the kitchen, his hand on her hip, a warm presence at her back, as he watches her stir the creamy chicken pasta. He steals bites off the spatula every now and then, laughing at her mock horror.

Theo has lost all the energy he was filled with only a few hours prior, and it makes dinner a battle. She feels guilty about the way Nico bargains with him to eat the vegetable. She should be able to get Theo to eat his dinner without help, and she knows she absolutely could do it, but it’s nice to have the help. 

Besides, Theo wasn’t in the mood to listen to anything she had to say, always looking to Nico for guidance instead. Asking Nico for his bedtime story when the time came for it.

She’s not jealous, anything but. It fills her heart with warmth to see her son so smitten with her best friend. But that doesn’t stop the ache that fills her chest: this could’ve been Theo with his father. He should be getting this with his father. And it’s her fault he isn’t. Every day, Theo grows a little bit more as a person, and while it’s bittersweet, she always wonders if he would be different if he had a dad. If her mistakes are holding him back.

Aurora is startled out of her thoughts when she hears her son’s voice get progressively louder and more upset. She rushed into his room.

“Why not?” Theo whines, his voice wet with tears and his bottom lip trembling.

“Bärli, I—” Nico says, voice wavering and raw. When he turns towards her, he looks white as a sheet, his eyes darting back and forth between Aurora and her son. 

“What happened?” she hisses at him as he stands up to give her space on the bed.

“I—I really don’t know. He asked—Never mind, not important right now,” he whispers, nodding at Theo, who is now bawling. 

She rushes to her son’s side and pulls him into her arms, shushing him. She presses soft kisses to his forehead and just holds him until his sobbing subsides. Eventually, he tires himself out enough, hiccuping occasionally as his eyes drift close and his body grows heavy. Once she’s sure he’s asleep, she slips out of the room.

Nico is leaning against the wall in the hallway, worrying at his lip. His head snaps up as soon as he hears her exit the room. She pulls him out of the hallway and into the kitchen, the furthest place from her son’s bedroom.

“What the fuck happened in there?” she whispers.

Nico presses the palms of his hands to his eyes. “He asked me—Fuck—He asked me if I was his dad. Obviously, I said no. And then he got really upset, and I don’t know why. I have no idea what happened.”

“What do you mean he asked—How did that even come up?”

“I don’t know,” Nico sighs, finally looking at her. His brows are pinched tight, dark strands of hair falling like a curtain around wet eyes. “He was saying something about the kids at school all having dads. And then he asked me if I had a dad. And then he just asked me, ‘Are you my dad?’ And then he kept asking me why not. Like, ‘Why don’t you wanna be my dad?’ What the fuck am I supposed to say to that, Aurora?” His voice breaking at the end.

She feels the claws of panic dig into her chest, sharp pain in her sternum as her head spins. Technically, it’s not the first time he’s asked that. He used to ask about ‘dads’ a lot when he was a toddler; before he really understood what the word ‘dad’ meant. He hadn’t brought it up in years so she had assumed he was over it.

“Fuck,” she breathes.

“Rory, stop. Don’t apologize.” He pauses and takes a deep breath. He runs his fingers through his beard, a nervous tick she has seen enough times to set her on edge. “When are you going to tell him, Aurora? He deserves to know.”

She clenches her jaw. This is not the first time they’ve talked about this.

“We’ve talked about this, Nico,” she says.

“I know we have, but you’re being selfish, Rory. You should’ve seen his face. He thinks no one wants him.”

Aurora’s heart clenches, the panic spreading through her whole body. She feels the sweat prickling at her back, her neck, her forehead; it makes her itchy all over.

Nico is still talking. “He doesn’t understand why everyone else he knows has two parents, and he doesn’t. He thinks I don’t want him. And I can’t—”

“You can’t what, Nico? Because you don’t have to do anything. You’re right. He’s not your son. What I do or do not tell him is none of your business. You can think I’m selfish, you can think I’m a bad mother, you can think whatever you like. It was none of your business then. It’s none of your business now. It won’t be your business ever,” Aurora hisses, her chest heaving as she rants.

The silence hangs between them, thick and stifling.

“I don’t think I can keep doing this,” Nico says, voice so small and so raw.

And if she felt hot before, she doesn’t anymore; the words feel ice cold in her ears. She’s plunged into freezing water, falling through pristine ice into a frozen lake. Her fingers feel numb where the nails dig into her palms. 

“Can’t keep doing what, Nico?” her voice sounds foreign even to her own ears.

He doesn’t answer.

��Can’t keep doing what?” she says, louder, “because I didn’t ask you to do anything, be anything. Don’t worry; you’re under no obligation to be anything to him. So, if you can’t put up with this anymore, then just leave. I won’t be upset. I won’t be anything at all. Because you’re right, you—”

“Schätzli, stop,” he interrupts firmly, “that’s not what I said.” He reaches for her, but she shrugs him off.

“Maybe. Maybe not. But I heard what you meant. I’m fucking up his life, right? Fucked up my own, practically was a teen mom. But that’s not enough. I’m not enough for him.” She doesn’t even register the tears streaming down her face.

“Schätzli—Aurora, please. You know that’s not what I meant,” Nico says, and he might be crying too. His hand keeps coming up, reaching for her, before going back to hanging limply by his side.

“You don’t get to tell me how to parent my son, Nico. You don’t get to tell me that I’m fucking it up.” The words spill out of her mouth, and she has no control over it anymore. Through the tears, she can’t even see his face anymore, can’t see the heartbreak in those brown eyes she loves so much. “You don’t get to say this shit, Nico. Because you’re not his dad. You’re not his anything.”

She hears what may be a sob, but she can’t tell if it’s coming from her own mouth.

“Schätzli,” he whispers, “You don’t mean that.”

“It’s the truth, isn’t it?” she says, wiping her eyes. 

“Aurora, please, come on. You know that’s not true. You can’t say that after the past—” He takes a breath. “I know this is hard for you. But I’m trying to be here for you. To be what you need.”

“What are you trying to say,” she whispers.

“You have to know I would be anything you asked me to be. You can’t possibly not know that by now.” 

“I’ve never asked you to be anything. To me. Or to him. And if you can’t understand that we don’t need anything from you, then you should just leave,” she says through clenched teeth.

“Schätzli,” he pleads.

“Please just—just go.”

“Aurora, I want to be there for you. Both of you. I love Theo. I love—”

“Don’t,” she warns.

Nico sighs. “It’s always been fine that you don’t want me like that. I don’t care about that. It’s fine. But this… This makes me feel kinda fucking used, Aurora. This makes me feel like you think I’m nothing to you. No one. And that’s—Fuck—You need to decide what you want.”

“I’m asking you to leave,” she says through gritted teeth.

“Okay. Fine, I hear you. God, I’m so—” He stops himself, tipping his head back to stare at the ceiling for a moment before continuing, “Fuck. Yeah. Okay. I’ll go. I’m leaving.”

Aurora doesn’t respond; she just keeps looking at the floor until he finally sighs and walks out of her apartment. When the door clicks shut, she slides down the wall and sobs into her hands.

III. THE FUTURE

The next few days pass excruciatingly slowly. It’s the longest Nico and Aurora have gone without talking in the two years they’ve known each other. He opens the text thread with Aurora countless times: typing and deleting, typing and deleting, before giving up. Every time he steps into the apartment building’s elevator, he stares at the button for her floor, but he never presses it.

Nico finds himself checking his phone so often that the boys have begun to notice and chirp him for it. He has never had a problem with focus before, always pouring himself into hockey when things go awry. It’s usually the one thing that keeps him centered, but for the past few days, it always feels as if his skates are too tight, the edges too dull, or his stick too short. 

It all grinds to a halt when he sees the missed calls, voicemails, and texts from Aurora after an unsuccessful pre-game nap.

It’s Saturday, and Aurora’s exhausted. She can’t remember the last time a week has gone so poorly. For the past few days, it’s felt like everything in her life has been moved one foot to the left: out of place and disorienting. She has been lying awake at night thinking about Nico, playing their conversation over and over again in her head, pouring over the past two years. Every morning, she wakes up feeling more tired than the day before.

Theo’s not been much better. He has been grumpy and whiny. It seems like nothing she does can cheer him up. He asks her at least ten times a day about Nico: where he has been, what he is up to, if we can call him, and when we will see him next. It has been tearing her up inside that she doesn’t have an answer for Theo.

She has only known Nico for two years, and, between away games and the summers, it’s not like they are together every day. She shouldn’t feel his absence so acutely, but she does. She finds herself looking at the empty chair at her dining table and his empty spot on the couch; she feels the ghost of Nico so acutely. It hurts like a phantom limb, a gaping hole in her life, and she doesn’t know what to do about it.

Aurora thinks she’s holding it together until she isn’t.

When it happens, she doesn’t think anything of it. It’s hockey. She’s seen Theo fall during hockey countless times. It looks like any other fall until Theo starts crying, still lying on the ice, clutching his hand. And it’s as if the entire universe focuses in on that one point.

She doesn’t remember getting up from her seat and running down to the bench. She doesn’t remember the conversation with the U8 coach. She doesn’t remember the walk to the car, clutching him so tightly to her chest, despite the fact that he is far too heavy for her to carry now. 

She’s trying to calm herself down enough to drive to the hospital, head on the steering wheel, gasping for air, when she hears her son speak up.

“Mama,” Theo says, voice wet and wavering.

“Yes, baby?” she manages to respond.

“Mama, it’s okay. I’m going to be okay. Nico always tells me, when I’m sad or hurt, to take deep breaths. I think you might need to take some deep breaths, Mama,” he says between quiet sobs.

It makes her chest feel cracked open and raw; it takes everything in her body to tamp down the sob that threatens to spill out.

“When did you get so grown up?” she says, her voice sounding thin and reedy.

“Mama, I’m 7. Nico says I’m a big boy now.”

Aurora swallows around the tightness in her throat and tries to take three deep breaths before starting the drive to the hospital. 

The panic only subsides long enough to get them to the hospital. By the time they receive the X-ray results, she can hardly process what they are saying. The words “broken arm” and “no surgery” ring loudly in her ears. 

Somewhere in her consciousness, she knows she calls Nico. She knows it’s a game day, knows his routine. But some part of her hoped hearing his voice would make things alright, even just a little bit. She calls a few times, pushing down the disappointment when he doesn't answer. It’s a game day. She knows the routine.

She is sitting in the waiting room, staring at her hands clutched tightly in her lap, when she hears Nico’s voice call her name. 

She blinks and feels a pair of warm hands envelop hers.

“Hey,” Nico says, kneeling in front of her. “Hey, Schätzli, it’s okay. You’re okay. I got you.”

She deflates like a balloon, tilting forward to tuck her face in his neck as sobs wrack her body. His solid arms envelop her, hands rubbing her back. He keeps murmuring in her ear, a combination of English and Swiss German. She has no idea how long they stay like that, but eventually, she feels the terror and panic begin to subside.

“Nico,” she says softly, “what are you doing here?”

“You called,” he says as if it was the simplest thing in the world. He squeezes her hands.

“Oh god, Nico. Don’t you have a game? What are you doing here? You shouldn’t—”

“Rory, it’s okay. I called out. I told Coach that an emergency came up. I wanted to make sure I was here for you if you needed it.”

“You’re skipping the game? For us?” She swallows down a sob. "For me?”

“Yes, Schätzli. Of course, I did.” He reaches a hand up and tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Is Theo okay?”

“Yeah,” she hiccups, “he’ll be okay. He broke his arm. And they’re just setting it and putting in a cast to make sure it heals right.”

“I’m so sorry, Schätzli.” 

His hand cradles her face gently, wiping at the tears as they fall. There is a long stretch of silence as she leans into his hand.

“How did you get in here? This is the family waiting room,” she asks.

Nico blushes and turns away, mumbling something.

“Sorry, what?”

“I told them I was his dad,” Nico mumbles, rambling, “I didn’t mean to—It’s just, they weren’t letting me in. They said it was family only. So I had to tell them that. I’m sorry; I totally overstepped. I didn’t mean to. I get it if you’re mad—”

Aurora reaches out a finger and presses it to his lips. He stops abruptly, eyes wide.

“It’s okay, Nico. I’m not upset,” she says. She takes a deep breath, and with sudden clarity, she asks, “Is that something you might want to be one day?”

“What?” he squeaks.

“Theo’s dad.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, God, I hope I’m not reading this wrong. But—Well, earlier this week, you said I needed to decide what I wanted. And I just kept thinking about that conversation and how unfair I was to you—to us—by totally underplaying the past two years. ‘Cause they’ve been two of the best years.

“Theo loves you. I love you. You are the second most important person in my life, and I’m sorry it took this mess of a week to realize that,” she sighs. “I don’t know what I’ve been so afraid of. Or what I was waiting for. But it’s so clear to me now that you have been there the whole time. You never asked or expected anything of me. And maybe I was taking advantage of that while hiding behind my past.

“I know I can raise Theo alone; I know I can do it. But I don’t want to do it alone anymore. I don’t want to do it alone if I could have you by my side instead. And, oh God,” she says, her eyes darting frantically across his face, “I really hope I’m not misreading things. Nicole keeps saying that you—I feel like I’m being—”

In an instant, his lips are on hers, warm and soft and insistent. She closes her eyes and lets herself melt into his embrace. The kiss is chaste, but it feels like everything finally snaps back into place. 

“God, Aurora. Schätzli. I would be whoever you want me to be. Whatever you’re ready for. I’ll be here. I’ve known that since the first time we met, Liebling.”

“God, Nico,” she says breathily, “I want everything.”

“Okay,” he smiles, “Everything it is. We can take it as slow as you’d like.”

“Haven’t we wasted enough time?”

He laughs, dimples appearing on his cheeks. “Fuck, I love you, Aurora.”

“I love you too, Nico,” she smiles.

They share a few chaste kisses. And they wait, Aurora wrapped in his steadying embrace, until the doctor finally comes to tell them that Theo is in a recovery room and is doing great.

When they walk into the room together, Theo immediately spots Nico and his eyes light up.

“Nico! You’re here!” he yells.

“Yeah, of course I am,” Nico says warmly, walking across the room to pull Theo into a tight hug.

“Where have you been? I’ve missed you.”

“Yeah, Bärli. I’m sorry.” He runs his fingers through Theo’s messy hair and smiles. “I’m here now. And I promise, I’m not going anywhere.”

He looks up, eyes meeting Aurora’s, and he smiles. And she never doubts for a second that he means it.

[rykerevans]

turbulent - nico hischier

summary: a bumpy flight forces two people closer together.

word count: 2,790

note: this is for @dunnerlars as part of the summer fic exchange 2k24. i really hope you like it ash <3 thanks to @offside-the-lines for putting up with me going through the five stages of grief whilst trying to pull this together!

There was an element of strangeness to working on an NHL charter flight; most perplexing, even still, to Bonnie was the sudden way they all stripped out of their suits the second the seatbelt sign was turned off. She understood that sitting in a suit for six hours wasn’t comfortable, and also understood that the toilets were not big enough for giant men to reasonably change—she chose to spend time in the galley while they were doing it, because it was impossible not to stare inappropriately if she was walking the aisles.

“I thought you were joking,” Alice said, returning to the galley wide eyed and keeping the curtain closed with a hard fist against the cabin wall.

Bonnie hummed without turning around. “Everyone does.”

Short of holding her coworkers hostage in the galley, there wasn’t much Bonnie could do beyond warning them about what they’d see if they wandered the plane before she told them to. So, without fail, they all got caught in the aisles as some twenty odd men stood in unison and started to remove their pants.

“I know athletes have no shame in locker rooms,” Alice whispered aggressively, still with a firm grip on the curtain, “but this is a plane. There are people out there! Journalists!”

“This happens every flight,” Bonnie stressed. “Everyone is used to it. Some of the journalists might even be changing, too.”

Alice’s eyes widened, so big that Bonnie had a mild concern that they would come out of her head, and they only returned to normal when the captain’s voice came over the speaker.

“Hello everyone, sorry to interrupt your flight so early on, we have just been made aware of some unexpected weather on route to Los Angeles. We’ll do our best to make any necessary deviations to avoid patches of turbulence without adding too much extra time to the flight. For your own safety, please keep your seatbelts fastened and only move around the cabin if necessary. Thank you.”

Bonnie sighed, her chin dropping to her chest, at the thought of yet another turbulent flight. Alice groaned. It had been an uncommonly turbulent couple of weeks across both of their flights, even in completely different areas and directions—it was the first thing they’d spoken about when they met before getting on the plane.

“I can’t unsee any of that,” Alice said, finally letting go of the curtain.

“I mean, yeah, but there are worse things to have burnt into your brain.”

Alice readily agreed, even took a moment to subtly peak back into the cabin.

Bonnie still vividly remembered the first time she’d witnessed it. She would never forget the eye contact she’d made with the team’s captain before her eyes were drawn to his bare chest, the tattoo on the inside of his bicep—

“What can I do for you?”

“I’m just here to see Bonnie.”

Said chest and said tattoo blazed in Bonnie’s mind, and then she made eye contact with the team’s captain and sighed softly.

“Hi, Nico,” she greeted. “My captain said you were meant to remain seated with your seatbelt on.”

He smiled knowingly, “Good luck with that.”

Alice disappeared back into the cabin when someone pressed the call button and Nico moved out of her way with a practiced ease, even as Bonnie began to organise the food trolley for the first pass through.

“I just wanted to come check on you; you weren’t on the last few flights.”

“Just a sinus infection,” she said, as if it hadn’t written her off for a week and a half. “Didn’t want my eardrums to explode, you know?”

“You’re okay?” he asked, his hand coming to rest on her forearm. Concern radiated off him.

Bonnie covered his hand with her own, smiling softly and saying reassuringly, “I’m all better.”

Nico stayed while Bonnie finished filling the trolley. The flights were the three after the All-Star Break, so he had plenty of stories to tell to keep her occupied. The Swiss boys had headed to Mexico, of which she was jealous. It hadn’t been too cold in Jersey, but the need for sun had been growing and growing since Christmas, and the longing had only gotten more intense after being cooped up in her own apartment.

“Have you been?” Nico asked.

“No,” Bonnie said with a shake of her head. “One of my college friends had a vacation home in Fort Lauderdale so we did Spring Br—shit.”

The trolley rattled, a few trays coming half out of their places, and Bonnie watched helplessly as the last knife and fork fell off the counter.

“What the fuck is going on today?” Nico asked, causing Bonnie's eyes to snap up. He had a hand on each of the high cabinets either side of the galley.

“You should go back to your seat,” Bonnie said, picking up the lost cutlery and dropping into what would become the dirty dishes container. “I’ll be out in a second. Put your seatbelt on.”

Nico nodded, “Yes ma’am.”

Bonnie was friendly with all the players, staff and media on the flight. Most of them were familiar faces, especially halfway through the season, but anybody she didn’t know was introduced to her with a startling amount of enthusiasm from whichever player had taken it upon themselves to do so—normally it was Luke, being egged on by Nate. She always made sure they had the same energy for whoever had been assigned to work with her, whether or not they had ever met before. Alice looked delighted by the attention; Bonnie hoped it was just the energy being contagious.

If they lingered a little longer next to Nico, who politely ignored Alice’s doe eyes, and Jesper, so that they could get his round up of the All-Star Game, that was purely coincidental.

Back in the galley, Alice was poised to ask many questions. Bonnie could feel the curiosity bursting from her, it only becoming more obvious with every passing minute of silence. Every now and then Bonnie was assigned to work with someone who couldn’t quite handle it. Bonnie would never put in any complaints herself for some lowkey fangirling, but she had had a few coworkers who had been asked to never work a team’s charter flight again.

“Say whatever it is you want to say,” Bonnie said after Alice’s eagerness became too much to bear.

“Did they ask for you to be on all their flights?”

“Uh…” Bonnie hesitated, rolling the question around in her mind. She wasn’t sure what she had been expecting, but it wasn’t that “I don’t think so? I think it’s just easier to have someone who knows all the ins and outs. I didn’t think they could request people.”

“The Rangers do it,” Alice said casually, as she pulled out a new tray of water bottles from the fridge, “but I think that’s because she’s sleeping with one of the players.”

Bonnie was nodding, distracted by someone pressing the call button, and responded mindlessly, “Yeah, that’s pretty norm—Wait, what? I didn’t know anything about that!”

“That’s what I heard,” Alice said, looking and sounding suspiciously like Alexis Rose. “Super juicy. They wouldn’t tell me which player which was upsetting.”

“I wouldn’t want to know anyway,” Bonnie said, largely trying to convince herself because, though she would never admit aloud, she was not immune to gossip. “I couldn’t look them in the face again.”

The plane rumbled.

“Fine, I won’t tell you when I find out, but I also won’t tell anybody you’re sleeping with Nico. Promise.”

Bonnie’s neck snapped as she turned to glare at Alice. “Yeah, you better not because I’m not sleeping with Nico.”

“Oh, really? Damn.” Alice pouted. “You so could be, though. Should be.”

The thing about that was that Bonnie knew she could be. Nico had never made it explicitly clear, but nobody else on the team spent any time in the galley with her during flights. Nobody else ever got up and sought her out when they needed something.

Nobody else touched her so effortlessly, so naturally, when in her space without at all being in the way or a burden.

Nobody else ever looked at her like she was the best thing to happen in their day.

Bonnie tried her hardest to hide the small sigh that escaped her lips. She made direct eye contact with Alice as she moved the conversation along.

“How did you even find out about the Rangers thing? This is your first flight.”

Alice, either oblivious to the redirect or just so interested in the gossip that she didn’t mind, rattled on, “They brought me in for orientation and the woman they left me with is chatty.”

Bonnie knew the exact woman being referred to—in fact, she’d been subtly blacklisted from the Devils’ flights at the beginning of that season for some very inappropriate and entirely unsubtle flirting.

Alice was still talking, even as she left the galley with her tray of water bottles and crossed through the curtain, stopping mid-word to change topics and start a conversation with the person sitting directly on the other side.

A brief jolt came over the plane and Bonnie groaned. It was followed by a considerable rattle.

She was second guessing her career choice as her stomach lurched with the plane when Nico, once again, appeared in the galley. His closed-mouth smile was genuine if not a little cautious and it set Bonnie at ease.

Until she felt more turbulence and was met with Nico’s uncertain head tilt.

“You can stay, but you have to sit there,” Bonnie told him, putting a hand on his shoulder to forcibly turn him around to look at the jump seat she was pointing at. “And put your seatbelt on.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said. When he sat down, he only broke eye contact to find the seatbelt. “What did you do while we were on break?”

The shelves were rattling around her.

“Worked other flights like I normally do when you guys are at home for a while,” Bonnie answered. “I don’t just sit at home and wait for the team to go on a road trip, you know.”

“That… that makes a lot of sense,” he admitted, his cheeks turning the slightest bit red. “I don’t know why I thought you only flew with us.”

“Sometimes I fly with the Knicks, sometimes there’s some commercial flights. You boys are my favourites, though.”

Nico’s sweet smile turned just ever so slightly into a smirk. “I knew we would be.”

“You didn’t even know there were others,” Bonnie said, laughing.

“Yeah, but obviously.”

Bonnie’s eye roll was good natured, her laughter continuing as Nico’s smirk morphed back into its purest, most genuine form.

She kept looking back at him as she continued to work, sometimes to show she was listening and other times just to look. He was often looking back.

Their peacefulness was interrupted by the ding of the seatbelt sign being switched on and the plane’s captain making an announcement.

“Everybody, including cabin crew, the seatbelt sign has been turned on. Please make your way back to your seats immediately and put on your seatbelt; we don’t expect that to be the last patch and we apologise for our lack of notice on that one. If you need emergency assistance, please press the call button and someone will be with you as soon as it is safe.”

The inclusion of the cabin crew set Bonnie on edge, and she was halfway to demanding Nico return to his seat and hunting Alice down to drag her back when the plane shook even more violently than it had the entire life.

Bonnie’s feet momentarily left the floor. She could hear some shouting from the cabin. She could hear luggage bouncing in the nearest overhead lockers. She made eye contact with Nico—all colour was drained from his face.

“Where’s Alice?” Bonnie asked, holding desperately onto the galley counter behind her back. “She needs to be sitting down.”

Nico leant as far as he could, peeking down the aisle, before saying firmly, “She’s in my seat. Come here.”

Bonnie didn’t let go of the counter as she walked, her eyes never leaving the seat opposite Nico, and she was confident she was going to make it before the next bump. She looked back into the aisle when she could, instantly looking to Nico’s normal seat to see Alice expertly calming down some very nervous men, and relaxed knowing that she was safe.

Naturally, the plane started to tremble just a bit harder the very second she was feeling comfortable, and the oh shit had barely left her mouth before the plane dropped again. Her mind filled with all the things that could happen, where her head and the plane would meet, all the things that would inevitably fall on her if she was unable to get off the floor. And then—

“Gopf.”

She was hauled by the arm with an abrupt and unexpected force, all momentum she’d gained coming to a crashing halt when she collided with Nico’s chest and was held firmly in place by his arms wrapped around her.

“This is the worst flight I’ve ever been on.”

“Go on a date with me.”

Bonnie froze in Nico’s arms; no thoughts being given to the next bumpy patch and all thoughts being focused on his words and the way his arms squeezed just a little bit together.

“What?” she asked, breathless. “Nico.”

“I kind of feel like we might be about to die,” he said—it wasn’t totally clear if he was being serious or not, but he was sincere in his tone. “I don’t want that to happen without at least asking.”

She sighed wistfully, swooning closer to him in their already intimate position. Nico’s eyes dropped to Bonnie’s mouth, causing her to bite her lip and turn her head.

“I shouldn’t have asked?” Nico asked cautiously, his arms loosening around her waist. “I’m sorry.”

Bonnie shook her head, and said in a whisper, “You should have. I’m just—I’m working. I wish I wasn’t working.”

Out of the corner of her eye she caught Nico’s small, pleased expression, and revelled in the delight in his voice when he said, mostly to himself, “I’ll ask again when we’re off the plane.”

For her own sanity, and to remain professional whilst working, Bonnie took the slight break in turbulence as an opportunity to move to the empty jump seat on the other side of the galley. Nico’s hands lingered on her waist as she left, and his eyes burnt holes in the side of her head. She was determinedly looking down the aisle, carefully not looking at anybody sitting down.

The turbulence continued, the seatbelt sign remained on, but Bonnie and Alice were free to move around the cabin. Nico went back to his seat when Alice returned, the smile he sent Bonnie had Alice turning to her deviously.

“Are you sure you aren’t fucking him?”

“I would remember.”

Alice prattled on about maybe the sex being so good that it was affecting Bonnie’s memory, not letting up even as they prepared the cabin for landing—both of them steering clear of the cabin as the players stripped down to change back into their suits. It was amazing how much work she could get done whilst her mouth was moving a million miles a minute, seemingly every thought coming out in a stream of consciousness. It may have been about Bonnie, but it was still enough for Bonnie to tune out the exact words and just let it become background noise that distracted her from thinking about whether or not Nico was in fact going to find her once the plane had landed.

As always, the players were the first off of the plane, most of them thanking Bonnie and Alice, whilst others looked a bit too green to speak. Nico was the last of the players to disembark, slightly uncommon but not unheard of. Bonnie had to keep her eyes trained on his face because she knew if she even looked at Alice for a moment the endless talking would restart.

“I, uh, don’t actually know if I can miss the team bus from the airport,” he said, his eyebrows knitted tightly together and his voice solemn. “But if I could get your number, we could meet up later? For dinner?”

“Yeah,” Bonnie nodded, blushing. “I’d like that a lot.”

Nico pulled out his phone for Bonnie to enter her number, and, when she was finished, she made accidental eye contact with Alice who had, to Bonnie’s dismay, started to dance in the galley.

[rykerevans]

1-8-25: By Homer McFanboy

[rykerevans]

ballerina music box except when you open it it's a little figure of mitch marner doing his warmup spins

[rykerevans]

i do wonder what everyones wildest pwhl expansion team dreams are . like lets pretend there are no physical constraints ever, where do you want a team

[rykerevans]

experience kraken hockey….

[rykerevans]

my ideas to make hockey better:

glass goes all the way up and around and the ice is slightly curved where it intersects. this makes for fun 3d gameplay

every player is miced up at all times

goal that is twice as big and also theres two goalies

if a fight goes on for a certain amount of time the players who are fighting have to play the next 6 minutes handcuffed together

no more faceoffs (they r too fast and i do not understand them). replace with rock paper scissors

[rykerevans]

can ebs come back pls we need him so bad

[rykerevans]

i hate empty net but i think a very funny punishment for our whole team would be to make the whole third period empty net and just see what happens

[rykerevans]

PLEASE THIS IS HILARIOUS