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topguncortez · 6 months ago

Note

matt rempe with angst prompt “they’re lying to you” maybe she’s hughes sister and the boys don’t like her with a ranger player

Loving the Enemy - Matt Rempe

hockey masterlist || g's graduation celebration

synopsis: What was supposed to be an amazing night supporting her boyfriend's first NHL game, turns into a fight amongst siblings which leads to a broken heart. or in which Y/N Hughes is in love with the enemy.

word count: 4.5k

warnings: hockey inaccuracies, language, fighting, mentions of smut, break ups, angst

Being a Hughes sibling wasn’t easy. Being the only girl Hughes sibling was even harder. It wasn’t necessarily that you were a surprise, but your parents didn’t think that they would have a little girl after having three boys in a row. But you were their prized possession, and they would never say it out loud, but you were the favorite child.

You were close with all your brothers, being the youngest, they had been absolutely enthralled with you when you were born. Quinn had always been more than delighted to be an older sibling, and having a little sister was like getting ice cream before dinner. Jack was a bit indifferent towards you until you were about thirteen and he had accidentally body checked you during a scrimmage. He instantly expected tears, like had happened anytime he accidentally (or purposely) bodychecked you, but instead, you hopped back up and delivered a high stick to him about five minutes later.

But out of the three Hughes brothers, it was Luke, who you were the closest with. Only 18 months apart, some people believed that you two were twins. Not only did you both get the curly hair, but you both got the height gene that somehow missed Quinn and Jack. The two of you were also the quiet ones of the family, choosing to stick together and out of the spotlight. Luke was the first one you told that you didn’t like hockey, and you were the first one who Luke told he wasn’t going to go to the draft right away. But it wasn’t just the verbal communication that you two had, it was the silent glances and head nods that were understood from across the room.

And it was because of that bond, that Luke knew there was something you were hiding. He wasn’t sure what it was, but there was something off about you. He could hear you late at night talking and giggling with someone over the phone. You had been coming home late at night, using some excuse that you had been out with a friend or studying at a cafe. He even noticed that you were wearing a shirt he had never known you owned the other day. And right now, he knew that you were hiding away in your bedroom, which was uncharacteristically off for you. Usually you loved sitting on the beanbag, making fun of him, Jack, and Nico for playing NHL.

“Why is he here?” You whispered, peeking through the crack in your door, which gave you the perfect view of the living room, “I thought they were going to his place. Why are they here!?”

A low chuckle sounded out from behind you, making you turn your head towards the tall, muscular, still half naked man on your bed, “And this is funny to you? You realize if they see you here, you’re dead.”

“You don’t think I can’t fight them? Jack is what. . . five nine?”

You rolled your eyes, closing your door softly and walking back to your bed, flopping down next to him, “Five eleven and he’ll get out the measuring tape if you even doubt it.”

He instantly pulled your body into his, making you rest your hand on his peck, “So, you’re telling me you’ve never had a boy in your room before?” A shit eating grin arose on his cheeks, making heat flood yours, “Are you saying that I took your precious-”

“Oh shut up, Rempe,” You shook your head with a giggle, “It’s not cause you’re a boy, it’s because you’re a fucking Ranger.”

It wasn’t like you meant for it to happen.

You were sworn enemies. Well, supposed to be sworn enemies. The rivalry between the New Jersey Devils and the New York Rangers went farther back than you had been alive. The “cross river rivals”, just 10 miles away from each other. Though you hadn’t been a Devils fan until your brother Jack got drafted in 2019, and even then, you still kept somewhat mutual in your cheering for them. But when Luke got drafted three years later, you had sworn your allegiance to the team (even though you swore you would still put on a blue Canucks jersey to support Quinn. . . and even he knew that would only happen when the Canucks weren’t playing the Devils).

You met Matt by accident. You had been leaving a coffee shop late after working on a research paper. Jack and Luke had told you over and over again to never go out walking in Jersey City alone at night by yourself. But you had never feared being out by yourself. There were plenty of times at UMich where you would leave the library by yourself and walk across campus to your dorm alone. Never had you felt terrified or in danger. But for some reason that night, you felt a shadow looming over your shoulder.

You had just gathered your things, ready to step out the door and head for the subway, when a voice in your head told you not to go. Your eyes had darted around the shop, looking for someone who you could sit with or strike up a conversation long enough for you to text one of your brothers to come get you. The shop was basically vacant, and the barista behind the counter looked like she was waiting for you to leave so she could lock up. Taking a deep breath, you grabbed your backpack, placing your keys in between your fingers just in case. You had barely opened the door when someone placed their hand on your elbow.

“Daphne? Oh my god, I thought it was you! How the hell have you been?” The man said to you. You could see it in his eyes he was begging for you to go along with it and there was something about him, that you knew you could trust him.

“Kyle! Holy shit, where have you been!? It’s been what. . . four years?!” You said, overly excited. The barista from behind the counter cleared her throat, her eyes fleeting towards the clock behind her, “I was just about to hit up another spot, do you want to come with?”

“I would love to, we have some catching up to do.”

You felt a sigh of relief as you walked out of the coffee shop, the looming darkness fading away the further away you got, “Thank you for. . . that,” You muttered to him.

“No problem,” He said back, “I’m Matt, by the way.”

“Y/N,” You looked up at him, “I uh. . . I think I’m going to call an uber now or-”

“I can take you. . . home. . .” He scratched the back of his neck nervously, “God, I just saved you from one creep now you probably think I’m a fucking creep but I promise I just want to make sure you get home safe and I-”

“It’s okay,” You giggled, cutting off his rambling, “I would like a ride home, if that’s not too much of a struggle. I trust you. . . even if I just met you.”

You thought he was good looking before, but the smile that arose on his face amplified that by a thousand. His brown eyes were soft as he held his large calloused and slightly bruised hand out towards you, which you took without second thought. The two of you walked down the street towards a black BMW. You slid your backpack off your shoulder, and he gently took it from your hand, opening the door with his other. He jogged around the back of the car after tossing your backpack in the backseat.

“Sorry if it smells like a gym in here, I usually hit up Blair’s after practice,” He explained, though there was no smell at all, probably due to the air fresheners he had hanging around his rearview mirror.

“Smells like winter apple,” You said, reading the label, “What sport do you play?”

Matt placed his hand on the back of your seat as he backed out of the parking space, and you hated how attractive that was, “Hockey.” A cough spluttered out of your lips as you choked on your own spit at his revelation, “What? Not a hockey fan?” He asked with a nervous chuckle.

“Who do you play for?” You asked, ignoring his question.

“Hartford Wolf Pack, but I got signed with the Ranges-”

“Oh god,” You groaned, holding your face in your hands, “Of course, I was standing in Rangers’ territory.”

Matt’s brown eyes glanced over at you before looking back at the road in front of him, “Well, I’m sorry,” He shifted in his seat, “Are you like an Islanders fan or something?”

“Even worse,” You mumbled, “My hot knight in shining armor, turns out to be a Ranger, just my luck.” You sighed, “My brothers play for the Devils.”

“Wait,” Matt stepped on the brakes, “Brothers? Plural? Are you related to the Hugheses?”

“Those would be the ones.”

Matt shook his head, a laugh falling from his lips, “Wow, really fucked up here didn’t we?” You couldn’t help but smile, “Well, Miss Hughes,” Matt said as he pulled up in front of the high rise apartment building, “Is it crossing enemy lines if I ask for your number?”

You bit your bottom lip, trying to hide the blush arising on your cheeks, “It is. . . but I’ve never been one to swear allegiance to just one place.”

That night was six months ago, but for you it felt like it was just yesterday. There was a certain thrill about sneaking around with Matt, meeting when your brothers were gone or his roommates were out. You hated the rap he had developed in the AHL. He wasn’t the bad boy goonish hockey player with the fiery temper. He was a sweet, gentle giant, who loved to be the little spoon and have his hair played with. He sent you flowers and money to go get food cause he knew you forget to eat when you are in intense study sessions. Matt had become your everything in such a short amount of time, that you hated keeping him and your relationship from your family.

It wasn’t that you wanted to keep your relationship a secret on purpose, but you both decided it was going to be the best for both sides. Matt was starting his second season with Hartford and then moving up to play for the Rangers in the Stadium Series. For you, Luke was starting his rookie season, and you were doing everything you can to remain lowkey and out of trouble for his sake. Mentioning that you not only had a boyfriend, but that said boyfriend was Matt Rempe. . . the whole house would be flipped on its side.

“I have something to tell you,” Matt muttered, grabbing your hand and playing with your fingers. You loved the way that one of Matt’s hands could encase both of yours. You looked up into his soft brown eyes, that you swear resembled those of a baby cow, “The Rangers called. . . they want me to play in the Stadium Series.”

You gasped in shock, climbing on top of Matt’s lap and grabbing his face in your hands, “They want you to play!? Matt! This is amazing!”

A smile crawled across his lips, “Thank you,” You watched as a shadow of doubt and unease filled his eyes, “I want you there.”

“I’ll be there,” You leaned down and pressed a kiss to his lips, “I’ll be the loudest one there.”

“Oh you better,” Matt said, one of his hands gliding up to rest on your ass, the other one tangling in your hair, “You know I love you, right.”

“I love you too,” You smiled. Those three words would never fail to put a smile on your face.

“Good,” Matt smirked, “Cause right now, I need you to be very, very quiet.”

— — —

You didn’t really think it through when you told Matt that you would be there for the Stadium Series game. Not only did you have to sneak past your brothers to take the train to MetLife, you had to also sneak past your parents. Being the youngest of three boys, your parents had perfected the craft of knowing when one of their kids was hiding something.

“You sure you don’t want to come with us?” Luke asked, standing in the doorway of your room.

“Positive,” You did your best trying to pretend you were sick, “My body just aches and my head hurts. I think I’m getting sick.” You hated lying to your brother. You hated lying to any of your brothers, but especially Luke.

Luke frowned, “I hate that you’re missing this dinner.” Nico had decided to host a dinner for all the parents, friends and family that came into town to watch them play in yesterday’s stadium game. You also hated that you were missing spending time with your family, but it's Matt’s first game. You weren’t going to miss that for the world.

“Can you bring me back some fries?” You asked meekly.

“Of course, ducky,” Luke nodded, using the childhood nickname he gave you, “Text me if you need anything.”

You waited until the front door closed, before climbing out of bed and getting dressed. You threw on a pair of black jeans and a white Rangers sweatshirt. You finished the outfit with a hat and your coat, hoping to conceal your identity amongst the crowd. The train ride to MetLife was short, and you followed the crowd into the stadium. Matt had done good with getting you a ticket, sitting you a few rows behind the Rangers bench. You had gotten there in time to see them warming up, Matt’s large frame skating around the ice with ease.

It was as if he could sense that you were there, his brown eyes searching the stands until he found you. He sent you a small wave, which made your heart flutter as you returned the gesture. He looked extremely good in his white Rangers jersey and the eye black on his cheeks. You knew how important this game was to him, not only was it his first game, but it also fell on the anniversary of his dad’s death. You knew that all he wanted in the world was for his dad to see him play the sport they both loved.

Within minutes of the puck dropping, the Rangers took control. You felt the familiar anxiety that you would get when watching your brothers take the ice, when Matt got off the bench. You clenched your fists tightly as the Rangers moved down the ice, skating flawlessly and making a goal. You stood up and cheered with the crowd as the goal horn went off, high fiving strangers and screaming in joy.

However the giddy feeling quickly went away, as you looked back towards the center, and saw your boyfriend in a fist fight. You knew he was a fighter at Hartford, and it wasn’t your favorite thing about his hockey game. He was a gifted player, with the height and reach other players would die for. You hated that the Wolfpack had set him up to be a goon within his first season there.

You watched with bated breath as the refs let him and the Islanders player battle it out. Punches delivered from both players, until they finally came to a draw. You shook your head as Matt raised his arms, trying to get the crowd fired up as he skated towards the penalty box. His first NHL game and his first five minute penalty for fighting.

As Matt sat down, taking the bag of ice from his trainer, he turned to scan the crowd, looking for you. He easily spotted you, standing out amongst the crowd as you gave him a look.

“You okay?” You mouthed and Matt nodded, holding up his bruised hand. You playfully rolled your eyes, “Pay attention,” and pointed back to the game. Matt smirked, giving you a mock salute before turning back towards his team on the ice.

When the game ended, in a Rangers victory, you left quickly. You wanted to stay and see Matt and hug him, but you knew that you would be cutting it close to when your brothers and parents would be back. You settled for sending him a text, and telling him you would come over as soon as you could to help celebrate with him.

The apartment was dark when you arrived back, your siblings still out at the dinner with the team. You let out a sigh of relief, dashing back to your room and changing back into your pajamas. By the time you had settled down and turned on some cheesy romcom, the front door opened and the familiar sounds of your brothers and parents filtered into the apartment.

“Ducky!” Luke shouted.

“She’s probably sleeping, asshole,” Jack scolded him.

“Don’t call your brother an asshole,” Your mom chided.

“Ducky!” Luke called again, “I got you fries!”

You giggled, pushing the covers back and going to greet your family. Their smiles were big and comforting as you sat down at the island, opening the to-go container of fries. Jack filled you in on everything you missed at dinner, your mother sitting behind you and playing with the ends of your hair like she used to do when you were younger. It felt like old times, the only person missing was Quinn. You knew he was doing great things out in Vancouver, but you missed having him around. The facetime calls weren’t enough.

“So what did you do tonight, duck?” Your dad asked.

“Oh uh,” You cleared your throat, “Just watched some movies and slept.”

“You missed an exciting hockey game,” He said, “That Rempe kid is going to be a menace.”

“Yeah,” You tried to hide the blush arising on your cheeks, “I’m gonna go back and lay down, still not feeling the best.”

“Okay, sweetheart,” Your mom squeezed your shoulder, “We’ll see you in the morning.”

You nodded your head, “Yeah, maybe we can go to that bakery on the corner-”

“What the fuck were you doing at MetLife?” Luke’s cut you off. You looked at him, your heart thundering in your chest.

“I-I wasn’t at M-MetLife,” You cursed your nervous stutter.

“Bullshit,” Luke cursed, putting his phone on the counter, and clear as day there was a picture of you, in your white Rangers sweatshirt, sitting behind the bench, “I thought you were sick.”

Tears began to cloud your eyes as you looked at your parents and then your brothers, “I’m sorry.”

“Why did you lie, Y/N?” Your mom asked. And suddenly you felt like you were a child all over again, being scolded by your parents. You hated getting in trouble, you hated looking at your parents and seeing disappointment in their eyes. The only time you ever really cried was when you were in trouble.

“I. . .” You huffed, “I went to watch Matt play in his first NHL game.”

“Matt?” Luke asked, “. . . Matt fucking Rempe?” You nodded your head. You felt your mom shift behind you, her stance going into protective mode, “Why the fuck would you go watch Matt fucking Rempe play-”

“Language, Luke,” Your mom spoke.

“Because we are dating.”

Silence spread across the kitchen for a moment, before laughter sounded out. A cruel sounding laughter as you looked at Luke. It was the fake sounding, teasing laughter that made you feel like a child.

“No you’re not,” Luke shook his head, “There’s no way.”

“Why?” You asked softly, “We’ve been together for six months.”

“No,” Luke chuckled again, “You aren’t dating him. You are not dating a hockey player, let alone one that has more penalty minutes than time on the ice. You aren’t dating him, you might be fucking him-”

“Luke!”

“But you aren’t dating him.”

You shook your head, tears falling down your cheeks, “He loves me.”

“Yeah and when did he say that? Before or after you fucked-”

“Enough!” Your mom stood up, her hands on the counter, “Y/N, you shouldn’t have lied to us about going to the game. If you wanted to go to support Matt, that’s all you needed to say,” You nodded, looking down at the counter, “Luke, you do not get to say those things about your sister and her relationship. You do not get to say those things about any woman for that matter. Now, apologize.”

You looked up at your brother, expecting to see remorse in his eyes, but all you saw was anger. Luke looked at you, before grabbing his phone and going to his room. You closed your eyes, feeling regret and guilt rising in your body. You mom put her hand on your shoulder, as a small sob left your lips.

— — —

It had been two weeks since your fight with Luke. Your parents had flown back to Michigan, leaving Jack to play the mediator between the two of you. Your mom had not so secretly texted Quinn to tell him what happened. He had called you the night after they left, which led to another tearful confession about your relationship with Matt. Quinn, being the big brother that he is, said he was upset that you felt like you couldn’t tell him about your relationship, but was nonetheless happy for you as long as you were happy.

But you weren’t sure if you were happy. Luke had refused to talk to you, or even be near you. If you entered the same room he was in, he would leave. He wouldn’t fix you a plate of food like he usually did, or tell you when he was leaving for the arena for a home game. He wouldn’t even respond in the groupchat when you would ask him a question directly.

But your strained relationship with Luke wasn’t the only relationship on the rocks. You hadn’t talked to Matt since the night of the stadium series. He had sent you countless text messages and left voicemails. He even went as far as sending flowers daily to the apartment, which Luke would toss out if you weren’t quick enough to grab them.

You were laying in your bed, half watching an episode of Bridgerton, like you had been for the past two weeks. Normally, you would be out in the living room with your brothers, but your bedroom felt like the only safe space in the entire apartment. You could hear the occasional shout or jest from your brothers as they were playing some video game on their night off. Beside you, on your bedside table, your phone buzzed for probably the tenth time this evening, another missed call from the same person.

You weren’t sure what you were doing. You knew it was hurtful to string Matt along like this, but you also didn’t have the heart to break up with him. These past two weeks had felt like your heart had been ripped out of your chest, and to even think about living a life without him in it hurt too much.

You let out a slow breath as you closed your eyes, listening as the buzzing of your phone finally stopped. However, the loud sound of knocking pulled you from your moment of peace.

“Did you order something?” Jack’s muffled voice sounded out.

“No,” Luke said back. There was shuffling as the front door opened and the knocking ceased, “Oh you’re fucking kidding me. Why the hell are you here?”

“Where’s Y/N?” Your heart sped up at the sound of the all too familiar voice. You quickly jumped up from your bed, opening your door and running to the living room. There in all his tall glory, stood the man you loved, “Y/N.”

It felt like the air had been drawn back into your lungs as you looked at him, “Matt.”

“I uh. . .I just needed to see that you were okay. You haven’t been answering my calls or my texts,” Matt scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, looking at you and then your two brothers, “I’m gonna go now.”

“Wait,” You said, taking a step forward, “Can I talk to you?” Matt nodded his head, looking like a lost puppy dog. You looked at your two brothers, “Can I talk to him alone?”

“Yeah, c’mon Moose, we got game film to look at,” Jack said. Luke looked Matt up and down once, before letting him into the apartment and following his older brother down the hall towards the office room.

You silently walked over to the couch, Matt following behind you. The two of you sat there in silence for a moment, before you broke the ice.

“Do you love me?”

Matt’s head snapped towards you, as your eyes looked straight ahead at the tv, “What?”

“Do you love me?” You looked over at him, “Do you mean it when you say-”

“Yes,” Matt answered quickly, “Yes, I do love you. I mean it every single time I say it. Why are you asking me this?”

You shook your head, “Luke said something and I-”

“He’s lying to you,” Matt moved from the couch to kneel down in front of you. He took your hands in his, “I love you, Y/N Hughes. I know we’ve only been together for six months but it’s been the happiest six months of my life. Not even hockey fills me with the joy as being with you does. So yes, I love you. I love you so fucking much.”

You sniffled, tears falling from your eyes. Matt quickly wiped his thumb over your cheekbone, “I’m sorry. I. . . It all fell apart so quickly. Luke found out I lied and went to the game, and then he got so mad. I didn’t want to have to choose between-”

“No, you shouldn’t have to choose,” Matt said, tears brimming his own eyes. He was silent for a moment, warring thoughts in his head as he thought of what to say, “It would absolutely break me to pieces, but I won’t be the reason why you and your siblings don’t talk anymore. I. . . I can’t do that to you.”

“Are you breaking up with me?” You gasped.

“I don’t want you and Luke to not talk to each other because of me.”

“No,” You shook your head, “It will be okay, I promise. He’ll get over it.”

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” Matt said, tears flowing freely down his cheeks, “I know your family means everything to you, and I can’t stand to be the one who ruins that. I’m so, so sorry,” Matt leaned forward, placing a kiss on your forehead, “I’ll always love you. No matter what. You are it for me.” You closed your eyes, savoring the feeling of his warmth, “Goodbye Y/N.”

You sat there, unmoving as Matt stood up and walked towards the door. Your eyes fluttered open at the sounds of your brothers' footsteps, moving towards you.

“Are you happy?” You sneered at Luke, “He broke up with me.”

“Ducky-” Luke sighed.

“No,” You stood up shaking your head, “The love of my life just walked out the door because he knows that I care too much about you and your opinion. So Luke, are you happy?”

#matt rempe #matt rempe fan fiction #matt rempe fan fic #matt rempe imagine #matt rempe x reader #matt rempe fic #ny rangers #hockey imagine #hockey fan fic #hockey fic

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vanteguccir · 6 months ago

Text

── ୨୧ !　𝗛𝗢𝗖𝗞𝗘𝗬 𝗗𝗥𝗔𝗠𝗔

　　　　　　　　𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: Where Y/N is a hockey player of the Boston High-school hockey team, and during one of her games, her temper is tested by her opponent while her boyfriend, Matt, is watching.

WARNING: Physical fighting, blood, bruises.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anon

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Y/N adjusted the straps of her helmet and took one last look around the locker room. The muffled noise of the crowd, which already filled the gym, pulsed through the walls. The tension in the air was palpable. This game wasn't just another game of the season; it was the decisive game that would define the regional champion. And for Y/N, there was an extra motivation: Matt. Her boyfriend was in the audience, and she wanted more than ever to impress him with her performance.

While sliding across the ice during warm-ups, Y/N observed the opposing team, known for its physical and aggressive play, looked more determined than ever. Among them, one player in particular stood out: Lilian. Tall, robust, and with a look that exuded competitiveness, Lilian had a reputation for being ruthless. Y/N knew she would have to pay attention to her throughout the game.

The opening whistle sounded, and the game began with frenetic intensity. Y/N moved with agility, looking for gaps in the opponent's defense. Every pass, every deflection, was meticulously calculated.

And it didn't take long for her to find an opportunity.

With a quick sprint, Y/N escaped to the right, receiving a precise pass from her teammate and, with an elegant movement of her stick, sent the puck directly into the corner of the net.

The electric sound of the puck hitting the net was followed by a roar from the crowd. Matt, who was sitting in the center bleachers, jumped to his feet, cheering and shouting her name, a huge smile taking over his face as his hands grabbed the front of his brothers' hoodies, shaking their upper bodies with euphoria.

Y/N's confidence was high, but the game was far from won. The opposing team increased the pressure, and Lilian, especially, seemed to have fixed Y/N as her main target.

In one of the most critical moves, Lilian came forward with force, bumping into Y/N with an intensity that bordered on brutality. Y/N managed to stay upright but felt the impact reverberate through her bones.

She returned Lilian's gaze with firm determination. She would not allow herself to be intimidated.

The minutes passed, and the game became increasingly fierce. Y/N was determined to score another goal. Her ears seemed to constantly search for the loud and firm comments of encouragement that escaped her boyfriend's lips, drawing strength from there. With a combination of speed and precision, she advanced towards the opponent's goal again.

But Lilian was there, and this time, she wasn't willing to allow Y/N to pass. In a split second, Lilian collided violently against Y/N, knocking her onto the ice. The impact was so strong that Y/N felt the air leave her lungs, her hands quickly letting go of the stick and gluing to her chest covered by heavy clothes, trying desperately to take a long breath.

The referee blew the whistle, signaling a penalty, but the damage was already done.

With anger boiling inside her, Y/N stood up with difficulty, breathing harshly. She felt humiliated and enraged. Without thinking twice, the girl skated towards the locker room, ignoring the screams of her teammates and her coach, who called for her, cutting through the silence that had settled in the gym after the incident.

The door closed behind her back, muffling the sound of the crowd and the frenzy of the game, echoing like a dull thud throughout the space. In the silence of the locker room, Y/N took a deep breath, trying to control the storm of emotions that was stirring inside her.

She sat down on the main bench, removing her helmet and running her hands through her sweat-damp hair. Anger burned through her veins, not just because of Lilian's aggression, but because of the frustration of feeling like she was letting down her team and, especially, Matt. He had come to watch her play, and all she wanted was to put on a spectacular show for him.

Tears began to form, but Y/N took another deep breath, refusing to let them fall. She wouldn't give in.

The girl closed her eyes tightly, trying to center herself, but as she did so, a stab of pain appeared above her eye. A wince scaped her lips as she touched the painful area, noticing something warm and wet on her fingers. Raising them to her eye level, she saw blood.

The anger, which was already intense, intensified even more. The girl felt her blood boiling as her hands shook with hatred. The sight of blood dripping from her eyebrow was the trigger that was needed for her uncontrolled fury.

Without thinking twice, Y/N put the helmet back on harshly, ignoring the pain. She wouldn't let Lilian get away with that. Y/N got out of the locker room with firm slides, determined to show that no one would take her down without consequences.

Back on the ice, Y/N felt a new surge of energy, this time fueled by anger and the need for revenge. Her eyes were fixed on Lilian, who didn't seem to expect her to return so soon. With impressive speed, Y/N skated directly towards her opponent, leaving her coach's questions behind.

When the distance between them closed, Y/N kept going, hitting her shoulder against the other girl with all the strength she had. The impact threw Lilian to the ground, who fell onto her back, surprised and in pain, a loud cry scream echoing afterward.

The referee blew his whistle frantically, but Y/N ignored his and Lilian's screams. Her focus was absolute.

She took the puck from one of the opposing players with surprising dexterity and began advancing towards the goal. Every movement was fierce, precise. She was in a state of flux, where nothing else mattered other than the next goal.

With impressive skill, Y/N scored one after another. The crowd was in a frenzy, and the energy in the gym was electric. Matt, in the bleachers, watched everything with wide eyes, his screams standing out among the crowd. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. Y/N was playing like never before, in a way he himself had never witnessed.

With each goal, Y/N felt increasing satisfaction. She was showing everyone – her team, her opponents, the watchers, and especially Lilian – that she was really good. Blood was still running from her eyebrow, dripping onto her lips held by the mouth guard, the metallic taste flooding her tongue.

When the final whistle sounded, declaring her team's victory, Y/N felt a wave of relief flood her body. She dropped the stick on the ice floor and ripped off her helmet, taking her mouth guard off of her lips, finally breathing properly, her eyes darting around the gym as euphoria took over her body, adrenaline rushing through her veins like lightning.

It was at that moment that she saw Matt jump over the railing that separated the bleachers from the ice. The brunette ran towards her, slipping slightly on the ice, a consequence of his inappropriate sneakers, leaving behind the screams of his brothers who tried to dissuade him.

She felt her heart speed up even more, wetting her lips in anticipation.

When Matt finally reached Y/N, he quickly threw himself in front of her, raising his arms and cupping his girl's face with both hands firmly, his gaze filled with concern and love. His blue eyes scanned the cut on her eyebrow, trying to wipe away the blood on her skin with trembling fingers.

"Y/N, baby, are you okay? You're bleeding so much. Let me see this..."

Y/N, still breathing heavily, felt a wave of emotions wash over her. Before Matt could continue, she cut him off with a passionate kiss, wrapping her hands around his thick hoodie-covered waist and pulling him closer, the significant height that her skateboards provided her aiding her in her action.

It was a kiss full of intensity, relief, and love.

Matt sighed deeply, the hot air hitting the girl's cold face, causing the blush in the area to intensify, feeling enveloped by the passion and strength that emanated from her.

When they finally separated, Matt hugged her tightly, his body shaking slightly with the adrenaline that took his body along with his heart racing at a thousand miles per hour. His large hands hugged her head against his own right shoulder, his fingers stroking her tied hair gently.

"I'm so proud of you, Y/N. You were amazing. I've never seen anyone play like you played today. You were so strong, so brave..." Y/N smiled against his covered skin, feeling his hushed words warm her heart.

"It was all for you, babe. Every goal-"

"Y/N!" The coach shouted, approaching with quick, steady steps, his ice-appropriate sneakers keeping him upright. "What in God's name was that? This is a hockey game. What, are you trying out for the gymnastics team? If you do that again, you'll be out!"

Matt watched him with wide eyes, his lips pressed into a thin line in an attempt to hold back his laughter.

"Sorry, coach. I just did what I had to do." Y/N rolled her eyes, letting out a breathless laugh.

The coach shook his head, opening an almost imperceptible smile.

"You played with your heart today, kid. Just try to keep a little more control next time, okay? We don't want you to miss big opportunities."

"You got it, coach." Y/N nodded quickly, Matt's arms still holding her tightly, one arm grasping firmly around her waist, keeping her close.

"Now take her to the infirmary, boy." The coach approached, casting a glance toward Matt while patting her right shoulder.

"Yes, sir, I'll take care of her."

"You better."

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feli-artblog · 10 months ago

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Etsy

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iced-if · 17 days ago

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⋆ DEMO: TBA (sory) || FORUM: TBA (follows demo release) ⋆

When a previously-cold case sparks once more, you'll take what you can get.

You live for hockey. The ice is your home. You know it, everyone knows it.

Friends and family back at home often joke about you skating your first steps before walking. Especially your parents—with them being your biggest fans, and the ones who ignited your fire—they were the ones who helped you take both. Even when you're off the ice, your hands fidget for your stick. You itch for the rebound of the puck. You crave the chill of the rink. There is at least some truth to their statements.

That day was supposed to be a celebration, to commemorate the blood, sweat, and tears. You were supposed to end the day with a celebratory dinner after bringing home the win for your school's hockey team, not provide a witness testimony for two dead bodies.

It's been ten years since then. Your dream of winning in the major leagues has dampened. You feel mediocre for a professional, always seeming to be middle-of-the-road with no progress in sight. Everything has just been so stagnant, and you're this close to throwing in the towel altogether. Little did you know, this year's about to be the best in a long time.

Try to stay afloat in the meantime.

Iced is a work of fiction aimed towards mature audiences, and contains themes such as explicit language, substance use, murder, descriptions of murder, sexually suggestive themes, that may be triggering to some. This list is subject to change.

Play as a semi-famous pro hockey athlete, with an immense love for the sport that surpasses none. Probably.

Solve a decades old mystery and finally put all those lost souls to rest, all while finally breaking out of your progress lull to achieve what was once a distant dream. Make your parents proud, and see how far you've come.

Choose your greatest asset, and fatal flaw, on the ice. Will you rank in the top six, or at the bottom of your team, as a center player?

Be the charming stoic, the team's quiet-but-deadly comedian, the fans' favourite haughty Samaritan, and more unique personality combinations to discover.

Become world renowned, or an infamous villain in the hockey world.

A wide range of customization to choose from, that do matter (or an option to randomize everything if ya don't care).

Romance 5 ROs, and get caught in a love triangle between two of them. Or, avoid romance entirely.

Jealousy and drama abound!

Participate in tomfoolery.

Find a family within your new team, or stick to purely colleagues.

Can you juggle the responsibilities of a professional hockey player, and find the murderer behind it all?

CHARACTER MOODBOARDS

THE SUCCESSOR OF SHERLOCK HOLMES

For a detective, they sure are dense...

HIRAN/HATHAI ANUMAN (m/f) is the one who you've reached through that window of opportunity for, and arguably the most important piece to solving this puzzle.

This disheveled, crabby detective likes to say otherwise, though. With a no-nonsense attitude, Anuman likes to live inconspicuously, using the quietness and mundanity of their life to help balance the crimes they investigate. They prefer staying in their court, picking up cases that helps keep them out of the limelight. With an eye for detail, they mainly use their skills to help determine the tax of their groceries.

As much as they like to keep everyone at an arm's length, there's a hidden part of them that pushes them to ask if you'd like some water, or if you need a break. Which, may be difficult to tell at times.

That mask of indifference and professionalism has a limit. Will you be able to take it off or break it?

THE ENIGMATIC POLITICIAN

Do politicians have the time to be a fan?

KELVIN/KELSEY WEN ZHONG (m/f) is one person you would never have expected to ever meet—especially at a hockey game.

Intertwined by a chance meeting, your first impressions of Zhong don't fall short to the real deal. Intelligent, personable, composed, likeable, they make for the ideal politician. Hell, even the way they carry themselves says important. The words they say make you nod along with them, and leave you agreeing with a new perspective you've never even considered. Unexpectedly, there are times where a spirited enthusiasm exposes itself in the midst of a goal.

You find it impossible to forget the look on their face when they watch a game. An expression so foreign and childlike, but maybe it's because you haven't gotten used to it yet. Although, it fits them more than you expected it to.

And, judging by their reactions, you might just have a new fan.

THE UNSTOPPABLE FORCE

Holy crap they're good. Personality could use some improvement though.

LESTER/LYDIA RAMIREZ (gender locked based on MC) would probably benefit from daily meditation. Although, with how physical hockey can get, one could argue that they've got the perfect temperament.

Unfortunately teammates, Ramirez is quite the character. They burn with a passion so hot and overpowering, it takes up everything they do. It's not an unfamiliar concept—after all, you're here too, but the way they go about it is not giving them the brightest reputation.

They aren't shy about getting physical themselves, making them popular among your fans and despised by the rest of the league—but even they have to acknowledge their skill on the ice. Although, their tendency of getting into fights can cause a bit of a headache for your coach and the team. For Ramirez, winning comes first.

If they're not going to do it, how will you preserve the team dynamic?

THE TOUGHEST LINE OF DEFENSE

Much tougher than you remember, or maybe you hadn't noticed until now.

ELLIOTT/ELLA LAMBERT (gender locked based on MC) was the best defenseman on the team, and the only freshman to make it on.

Back in high school, no one expected the short, scrawny kid to make it on back then, nor blow most of the competition out of the water. Lambert could steal a puck like no other, and weave through bodies as if it were just another warm up. Being a sweet kid with a cheery disposition, and a toothy smile to match, they were someone you wouldn't think would be able to stand getting bodied, and get back up like it was just a small rough-and-tumble.

Not much has changed since then, except for the height. No longer the freshman who admired you with wide eyes, they've grown into an even more skilled player, and an even tougher opponent.

You don't remember a stubborn intensity being there before, but now that you stand face to face, you have a chance of getting more up close and personal than you would have all those years ago.

THE HOTTEST SINGER OF MODERN POP

How the hell do they have a natural tan at this time of year???

CITRUS/CHERRY MOORE (m/f) is the newest pop singer on the scene, and they are crushing the charts with each new release.

Or, at least they should be.

Moore can command a stage with a presence that pulls you in by the collar, and a sound that rocks you to the core. They are charismatic, fun, flirty, and bring a new kind of energy to the table. Yet, here they are, singing their heart out in a dinged out bar, the rest of the patrons too busy wasting away to hear their soul hum.

Underneath all that magic, however, it's clear that the passion in their eyes has dimmed, giving way to cynicism. With long years passed, still living from gig to gig, they feel that the years yet to come will be even longer.

Will you be the one to realize their potential?

---------

Let me know about any spelling errors, grammatical errors, story inconsistencies, incorrect information/interpretations, coding errors, and choice suggestions/feedback in a google form I haven't implemented yet. Feedback is always appreciated.

Are you ready to shake the world?

#Iced if #hockey #dont kill me folks im not a pro hockey player #dashingdon #choicescript #if game #if wip #interactive fiction #interactive game #cyoa #hosted games #if #if demo #cog #cog wip

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writingonleaves · 3 months ago

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i've been yours since you stepped through the door tonight - andrei svechnikov

pairing: andrei svechnikov x original female character

warnings: swearing, drinking alcohol, lotta fluff, inaccuracies regarding anything athletic trainer related (timeline of training, terminology, etc), proofread maybe once, mentions of injuries, author has never been to raleigh, mostly based off the first hald of the 2023-2024 season but i couldn't be bothered to keep track how often svech had been in and out lmfao

title: "almost touch me" by maisy kay, also inspired by "lowkey" by NIKI

word count: 16k

author's note: this idea's been swirling around my head for awhile now, but @wyattjohnston's summer fic exchange 2024 inspired me to really revive it. @callsign-denmark, this is for you, my friend. i hope you enjoy it!

~*~*~

“Chrissy!”

Christina turns around from where she’s restocking ice packs in the training room. She nods at the smiley Russian. “Svech.”

He walks to her and swings an arm around her shoulder in a friendly side-hug. “Good summer?”

“It was alright,” her summer back home in the Delaware suburbs wasn’t anything to write home to. And Andrei Svechnikov is technically a coworker who doesn’t need to know everything. “Good to be back though.”

“I know what you mean,” he says. Andrei leans back against one of the treatment tables. “You graduated, right? College?”

She blinks. When did she ever mention that to him last season? “I did. Back in May. The week after playoffs ended.”

“Congratulations.”

She smiles genuinely, turning to face him completely. “Thank you. Did you need something?”

“Nope,” he says with a smile that somehow still stuns Christina even after a season of seeing it so much. “I just wanted to say hi and welcome back.”

“Well, welcome back to you too.” As he’s turning away to go to fitness testing, she calls out. “Hey! Come back after you’re done. Should check on the knee before you go home.”

He halts, turning back around with a raised eyebrow. “Is that part of my regimen to get back to playing?”

“Has Doug told you?”

“Told me what?”

Clearly not then. Trust her boss, who’s lovely but also like a purposefully annoying father, to leave it to her to break the news. “They put me in charge of you this season.”

“Me?”

“Well, your recovery. And not completely. Obviously, Doug will still have final say. But if anything’s going on, I’m your person. Especially as you’re getting back into it.”

“Oh?” Andrei smirks and Christina refuses to be affected by it.

“Is that gonna be a problem?”

He shakes his head slowly. “Of course not. I trust you.”

“Then I better see you before you leave today.”

“Deal.” He shoots her one last smile. “Bye Chrissy.”

“See you later, Svech.” Andrei brushes shoulders with Brady and they exchange excited greetings. She waits until Andrei leaves the room and smiles. “What can I do for you, Brady?”

“Got any tape?”

“Plenty.” She heads to the cabinet. “Take a seat.”

Christina Hawthorne feels very fortunate to even be back in this training room. After a co-op with the Hurricanes last season with their athletic training team, she graduated from UNC Chapel Hill in the spring. They liked her enough to offer her a position on the team for this season while she prepares for her certification test in January. They’re putting an immense amount of trust in her, and she couldn’t be more grateful.

She loves the guys, so it’s nice to see that they seem to like her enough to keep her around.

When she has a few free minutes with no players trailing into the training room, she wanders over to the gym. She may have had dreams to be a professional ballerina when she was very young, but actually working with professional athletes everyday is definitely a humbling experience.

She’s sure to stay out of the way as the players are getting tested, leaning against the wall and sorta zoning out. She takes note of Andrei’s visible frustration at himself for not getting some of the results he wants. She knows that he won’t be ready for the first few games, and he knows too. But she’s sure he’s not happy about it.

As promised, Andrei does come back to the training room after his fitness tests. She wrinkles her nose as Sebastian ruffles her dyed blonde hair in thanks for helping him stretch out before he leaves. She brushes her fingers through her hair to try and tame it. “Oh good, you’re back.”

“I promised, no?” He takes a seat on the table and puts his leg up.

“How did today go?”

He huffs. “Fine.”

She presses her thumb against a particular part of his knee and he hisses. She immediately stops and does the same to the other side. No reaction there. She quickly turns to scribble something down in her notes. “I know this is annoying. But you’ll be back on the ice soon.”

“Not frustrated at you,” Andrei says, running a hand through his sweaty hair. “Just myself.”

“Don’t be,” Christina says, gesturing for him to lie down. “Have you been doing the stretches you’re supposed to be doing?”

“How do you know what I’m supposed to be doing?”

“Because I look over your notes and your trainers and the medical staff are in constant contact.”

He chuckles. “Right. Yes, I have been.”

“You lying to me?”

“Never.”

She bends his knee against his chest. “Then believe me. You’ll be back on the ice soon.”

“Okay,” he replies simply. “I believe you.”

She twists slightly. “Any pain?”

“No.”

Christina grins, then twists it the other way. “How about now?”

“No.”

“Music to my ears,” she gestures for him to sit up. “You’re good to go.”

“You sure?”

“Unless there’s something else you want me to look at.”

He shakes his head. “No. I think I’m good.”

“Then I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He gets up and flashes her a smile. “See you, Chrissy. Thanks. As always.”

She waves him off. “Just doing my job. Have a good night.”

…..

College was hard, but having a full-time job while trying to study for a certification is a whole new game. Trying to fit in study time while doing a job that already has weird hours is also another thing. Christina’s lucky that the athletic training and medical team understands and lets her study when the players are on the ice or she’s not needed. She even has her own little table in the trainers’ office this year, where she’s often found pooling over textbooks and scribbling notes.

Training camp and pre-season is a chaotic time for a lot of reasons. There’s more players to keep track of and people are dusting off their rust. No one ever wants to get hurt of course, but especially not during pre-season. Which means everyone is also taking extra precautions. With new faces comes new routines and an adjustment period.

Christina has a few moments of quiet, the last pre-season game occurring later that evening against Nashville. Players aren’t coming into the arena for at least another hour, and she pours over a chapter in her textbook. She has a pink highlighter in her mouth and a blue one in her hand when someone knocks on the wall.

She looks up to see Andrei, who looks amused. “Sorry. Are you busy?”

She spits out the highlighter gracefully and caps them both. “Not at all. What’s up?”

“Are you sure?” He nods over to her books. “You look busy.”

“What’s up, Svech?” She repeats.

He takes the hint. “Can you stretch out my hamstring?”

“Is it-”

“No. It’s not bad enough to need Doug. Just a little tight. And you said I should go to you whenever I need something.”

She stands up as they both head into the training room. “I did say that, yes. Which one?” He points at his right hamstring and she starts.

“What were you doing earlier? With the books?”

“I’m taking a certification exam in January.”

“For what?”

“To become an official athletic trainer.”

“You’re not one already?”

“I am not,” she says. “Don’t worry. That’s why Doug and the rest of the team do all the nitty-gritty stuff.”

“I’m surprised,” Andrei says. “I thought you were, like, official. You seem to know everything.”

She chuckles, feeling a knot and focusing on that area. “That’s kind of you. I definitely don’t though.” She sees his breath hitch and grimaces. “Sorry. Just a few more seconds.”

“It’s your job,” he says in a strained voice. “You don’t have to apologize.”

“Well, I still feel bad when my job elicits pain in others,” she says. After two minutes, she nods. “Need more?”

He moves his leg around and shakes his head. “I think I’m good. Thanks.”

“Of course.” She looks at the clock hanging up on the wall and furrows her eyebrows. “You’re in early.”

Andrei shrugs. “I like to come in early.”

“I know,” the right side of her lip quirks up as tilts her head to the side. “This is really early though, even for you.”

“Well, you’re in too,” he says. “So why can’t I be?”

She chuckles. “I’m not saying you can’t, Svech. I’m just saying I didn’t expect to be seeing any hockey player for at least another hour.”

“Was feeling too restless at home,” Andrei says.

She suddenly gets an idea. “Are you busy right now? Am I keeping you from anything?”

Ha shakes his head, “Not at all.”

“Wanna help me study?”

“I don’t know if I can be much help.” Nonetheless, he follows her back into the offices.

She pulls out a chair for him to sit in and opens her textbook back up. “I study best when I can talk to someone and describe a concept or topic and they tell me it makes sense. I would be a shitty athletic trainer if I can’t tell the athlete what I’m doing.”

“So all I have to do is sit here and listen?”

“And ask questions if I’m not making any sense,” she bites her lip. “Again, if you have other places to be, I get it. This isn’t the most interesting stuff but-”

“No, no.” He assures before smiling widely. She has an urge to poke her finger in his dimple. “I’d love to help.”

Christina smiles in satisfaction as she flips through her pages. Andrei sits back and makes himself comfortable.

Yeah, she’s glad to be back.

…..

Every year, the players, coaches and staff head out to a bar in downtown Raleigh before the start of the first regular season game. It’s to stir up excitement and camaraderie before the season starts. Christina couldn’t make it last year because she had class, but as she’s looking at herself in the mirror —a fitted white t-shirt under a green leather jacket she rarely gets to wear that her sister bought her for Christmas and light washed flare jeans — she tells herself to call the damn Uber before she backs out.

It’s not that she doesn’t like her coworkers. She really likes them, actually. But seeing them outside of work in a social situation where she could make a fool of herself is a bit anxiety-inducing.

Once she thanks her Uber driver, she steps out into the swanky rooftop bar that has her tapping her foot as she waits for the elevator. Once she steps up, it’s easy to find the Canes crew, various familiar faces crowded around a specific area of the spacious rooftop. Taylor, the head of social content, who Christina’s become good friends with, sees her first and waves her over, and soon Christina is enveloped in exciting chatter. Taylor, the saint they are, pushes a White Russian, Christina’s favorite drink, in her hands.

Christina can’t feel too bad. The organization is heading the bill tonight and she’s gonna milk that for all it’s worth.

A bit later, when she’s on her third drink of the night and feeling comfortably tipsy observing the people around her, she feels a tap on her shoulder. She turns around in her stool and immediately beams.

“Andrei!”

Andrei laughs and returns Christina’s enthusiastic hug before he leans his hip against the bar counter. “Hey Chrissy. You having fun?”

“Plenty.” She giggles. “Especially now that you’re here.”

Maybe it’s her tipsy self or the bar lighting, but she swears his cheeks become redder. Pair that with his button up shirt that has the top buttons undone and a pair of dark jeans and Christina needs to chill. “I’ve been trying to get to you all night,” he says. “You’re a popular woman. I saw Coach laughing at your jokes.”

She shrugs nonchalantly, leaning her chin on her palm. “I’m a funny gal, what can I say?”

“A confident one too,” he says, nodding to her empty glass. “What are you drinking?”

“You do know that the tab is on the Canes tonight, right? You don’t need to butter me up with drinks.”

Andrei rolls his eyes playfully and Christina bursts out into giggles. “I’m not trying to..butter you up? What does that even mean?”

“Like, uh, flatter me or whatever to get something. Like you’re doing something only hoping that you’ll get something out of it.”

“I’m definitely not trying to do that. I’m just trying to be nice. So what are you drinking?”

She offers a toothy grin. “A White Russian, please.” She pokes his shoulder. “Kinda like you, I guess.” Andrei snorts before waving down the bartender to order her drink. She squints at the drink in his hand. “Just a beer?”

“Don’t feel like getting too drunk tonight.”

“How responsible of you.”

He smiles, and Christina is suddenly overcome by the urge to kiss him. But she shakes her head and refocuses back on whatever he’s saying. He leans in closer to hear her response and she has to swallow roughly so her voice doesn’t crack.

Talking with Andrei is always so seamless. The conversation may shift between three different topics in two minutes but it feels natural. Christina never has an urge to overthink when she’s talking with Andrei. He’s funny and sweet and makes her feel like she’s actually being listened to.

In a world where she’s surrounded by men on a daily basis, it’s stupidly rare to feel as heard as she does whenever she speaks to the star winger of the Carolina Hurricanes.

After she finishes her drink, she realizes she should probably start thinking about going home. They all technically have work tomorrow, even if it’s a later start, and people are starting to filter out, having come by to say goodbye to the both of them in the last 10 minutes.

She starts to stand up and immediately sways on her feet. “Woah,” Andrei says, immediately putting a hand on her waist to steady her. “Slowly.”

“I’m fine,” Christina says, slapping his hand but ultimately grabbing onto his wrist as she steadies herself. “I should probably get going.”

Andrei’s eyebrows furrow. “You didn’t drive here, right?”

Christina snorts, “Of course not. I took an Uber.”

“Where do you live?”

“The Six Forks area.”

He pinches their empty glasses and puts them on the bar counter, nodding in thanks to the bartender. “You’re on my way home. I drive you.”

“Where do you live?”

“North Hills.”

She narrows her eyes. “I’m not that drunk to know that that’s definitely not on your way. You’d be overshooting.”

“I don’t care. It’s late, and I’d feel more comfortable if I just drove you home rather than you taking an Uber.”

“Andrei.” She deadpans. “I’m a grown woman. I can get home myself.”

“I know. But just let me drive you. Please.”

She huffs. “Fine. Thank you.”

He grins, “Anytime. Let’s say goodbye to everyone and then we head out.” Christina stumbles again and his hand is immediately back on her waist. “Slowly,” he repeats.

“I’m fine,” she repeats.

After they both say goodbye to everyone who’s still at the bar (Taylor eyes her with a smirk, gaze shifting between Christina’s eyes and Andrei’s hand that’s hovering over her back. Christina just rolls her eyes and discreetly flips them off), Andrei leads her to the parking lot.

Christina’s nose crinkles at the sight of the lamborghini as Andrei unlocks it. “I forgot you drive this.”

Andrei lets out a loud laugh before opening the passenger door. “Don’t worry. I drive extra safe with you in the car.”

“Thanks,” she mutters, climbing in. She’s heard about his questionable driving. She hopes she doesn’t regret this.

The engine roars to life and Christina rolls her eyes at the sound. Andrei just shoots her a smile before backing out of the spot. He unlocks his phone and hands it to her. “Put in your address.”

She hums, typing it in before putting his phone in the center console. She closes her eyes for a few seconds, before turning her head so that she’s facing him, leaning on the headrest. “You really didn’t have to do this.”

“You’re telling me you don’t like me as your personal Uber?” Andrei asks. She watches as he turns the wheel with one hand and rests his other hand on the center console shift. “You feel okay? I can open a window if you need.”

“I’m okay, Svech. Just don’t accelerate like a mad man.”

He laughs and she can’t help but giggle along. “I won’t. Promise,” he says. “You like to talk when you’re drunk.”

“Not drunk,” she mutters.

Andrei’s hum blends in with the engine. “Sure.”

“Not drunk,” she repeats. “Especially not in front of you all. That would be unprofessional.”

“Why you afraid of being unprofessional? The staff loves you. The team loves you.”

“I’ve worked hard to get here,” she says, forcing her eyes back open so she doesn’t fall asleep. “But the fact that I got this job in the first place is a blessing. I’m not gonna do anything to fuck it up.”

He nods. She closes her eyes. He gently jostles her awake when they’re parked in front of her apartment. He insists on walking her up to the door, and she leaves him with another ‘thank you,’ a tight hug and a sleepy smile.

He doesn’t move his feet until after a minute of staring at her front door.

…..

Opening night is always so thrilling. Of any sport. Christina has to tell herself to stop grinning so widely when the team is getting announced, making sweater paws with a Hurricanes crewneck she found on Etsy. She rocks back and forth in the tunnel, trying to stay out of everyone’s way on the side while simultaneously trying to see the ice and crowd.

Once the game is about to begin and the arena lights come back on, Christina shakes her head at herself to focus. It’s go-time. Like last year, she’s not with Doug on the bench — the day she gets on the bench will be the day her heart rate explodes — but she’s closeby in the tunnel or in the training room, making sure everything’s all good and she’s not needed.

“Hey.”

She turns to see Andrei, in his gray plaid game day suit coming from the bench where he was during player introductions. She smiles, “Hi. Happy season opener.”

“Happy season opener.” He grins. “The red earrings are back.”

Christina automatically reaches to touch the red rose earrings she has on tonight. She puts on a red pair of earrings every game day, whether its a flower, a cool design or ruby studs.

It’s something she just does for fun. For herself. She’s surprised that Andrei has noticed.

“You heading up to the press box?”

“Yeah.”

They’re interrupted by Bob, the head equipment manager, greeting them with a grin “Miss you out there, Svech.”

“Soon,” Andrei promises.

Bob turns to her with a playful raise of his eyebrow. “That true, Chrissy?”

Christina grins. “That depends on him,” she jokes. “No, he should be good to go soon. Let me know if you need any help tonight..”

Bob waves her away. “Of course. Can always count on you. See you both later,” He then heads back to the bench.

She takes one last look at the bench to see if anyone needs anything. No one does. She turns back to Andrei. “Thanks again for driving me home last week.”

“Of course. Did you wake up okay?”

“I don’t get hungover.”

“Lucky you.” He shoves his hands in his pockets. “Are you heading on the road trip after this?”

“I’m not, actually. I should be on all the other ones though.”

“Why not this one?”

She chuckles. “Funnily enough, because of you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s my job. I also think it’s because it’s early in the season so I’m not really needed yet. Hopefully.” She grimaces, “I just jinxed it, didn’t I?”

Andrei laughs, while nodding a greeting at one of the assistant coaches passing by. “Maybe. I feel bad you can’t go on the road, though.”

“There'll be plenty of other chances. You can make it up to me by helping me study again,” she jokes.

“I will do it,” he says seriously.

“I was kidding.”

“I will do it,” he repeats and clears his throat. “I should head up.”

She nods. “Enjoy watching from above.”

“Thanks. I mean it. I will help you study while you put me through painful stretches.”

“The stretches shouldn’t be that painful otherwise you’re not ready to go,” she admonishes. She internally wants to cringe at her tone switch, but she can’t help it.

Luckily, he just grins, a twinkle in his eye. “I know, I know. I’m teasing.”

She rolls her eyes. “Leave. I have work to do.”

He laughs, “See you later, Chrissy.”

…..

Last year, when she still had school, she couldn’t go on road trips either — until it came to the playoffs. So she knows what it’s like to come to the rink when no one’s really around.

Christina’s planning just to come in for a few hours in the morning to gather her own notes and to organize a few things. Also, she might study for a bit, wanting a different environment than her apartment. Andrei also texted her — she got the number of every single player at the start of the season — saying that he’s planning to come in to work on some things with Steven, one of the other assistant athletic trainers who’s also staying behind this road trip.

She taps her ID to get in, sipping her iced latte as she strolls down the hallway. She smiles and nods in greeting to a few staff members who she passes. Heading into the office, she sets her stuff down and immediately pulls out some of her notes, along with going through notes that the team has been sending on their road trip.

She hears Andrei before she sees him, the sound of him and Steven talking echoing through the hallway. They come to the office and she gives them both a wave.

“Good morning.”

Andrei and Steven both grin. “Morning,” they respond in unison.

“Did you get Doug’s notes last night?” Steven asks.

“Yeah. I’m in the middle of putting them in.”

“Amazing. Thank you.” Steven pats Andrei on the shoulder. “You’re all set this morning, Svech. Just remember what I said.”

Andrei nods as Steven leaves the room. “Thanks, Steve.” Steve puts his hand up in acknowledgement. Andrei pulls over a chair and sits down. She saves her work. He looks at the pair of old pointe shoes on her desk that she had just remembered to bring in. “What are those?”

“Old pointe shoes.”

“Well, yeah. I know what they are. Are they yours?”

She goes to play with one of the fraying ribbons. “They are. These are the last pair I wore before I left for college. I brought them in as something to put on my desk.”

“I didn’t know you danced.”

“Well, you don’t know that much about me.”

A pause, before the most beautiful smile spreads across Andrei’s face. “What makes this pair so special?”

Christina smiles bittersweetly. “I was pretty good. Like, went to international competitions good. Could’ve maybe done it for a living good. And I loved it so much. But I fucked up my ankle pretty badly when I was 15 and was never the same after that. I still danced and I made a full recovery, but, you know. At my dance studio, every graduating senior got to perform a solo at the yearly showcase and I did mine on pointe. It was a big moment for me.”

“And you did it in those shoes.”

She nods. “Yup.”

“Was professional dancer the first dream?”

“Yes and no. I think as I got older I realized I had other dreams and wanted to do other things. That didn’t fully sink into me until the injury. But it would’ve been cool, you know, be on a stage for a living.”

“Do you still dance?”

“When I can. UNC didn’t have a ballet company, so I tried to take classes out here in Raleigh. I’m a bit too busy these days, but I’d like to get back in a class at some point.”

Andrei hums, reaching to pick up a shoe. He hesitates, looking at her for permission and she nods at him to go ahead. “I just know you’re a beautiful dancer.”

She tries not to blush. But from the knowing glint in his eye, she knows she fails. He places the pointe shoe carefully back on her desk and she looks at the well-worn satin briefly, wondering what that life could’ve been like for her.

But then her attention is brought back to Andrei as he asks a question relating to his recovery, and Christina knows she’s right where she wants to be.

…..

The next day, when she’s not scheduled to go into work, she still somehow sees Andrei.

Christina has just finished grabbing lunch with a college friend and decides to wander into a nearby cafe, its flowery and vine covered entrance enticing her. With a book in her tote bag and taste buds that always welcome coffee, she orders a latte and perches herself at a table by the window.

She’s staring out the window lost in her own world when she hears his name being called out by the barista. She whips her head towards the counter. There’s not a lot of people you run into in Raleigh named Andrei. Before she knows it, she makes eye contact with him. She hates that he literally lights up before briskly walking over to her.

A backwards cap and a gray henley has never looked so good before. It’s almost infuriating.

He stops abruptly in front of her table, right hand bracing the chair across from her and left hand holding his coffee. “Are you waiting for someone?”

“Not at all.” She grins as he sits down. “Even on my off days, I can’t escape.”

Andre laughs, putting his coffee down on the table. “I come here all the time but I never see you here before.”

“I was in the area meeting up for lunch with a friend and the flowers outside convinced me,” she says. “Now that I know this is your spot, I’ll avoid it.”

He rolls his eyes. “Don’t do that.” He nods to her open book. “Reading?”

“Trying. Been trying to read a bit more because I never had time in college.”

“Did you like college?”

Christina smiles. “I did. Part of it was interrupted by the pandemic, but even then, I had a great time.”

“Are you from Raleigh?”

“No, I’m not. I grew up in Delaware, and my family’s all still there.”

“Where’s that?”

She chuckles. “A small state around Maryland, Pennsylvania and New Jersey. The closest NHL teams would be the Caps and Flyers, probably. But my family are more football fans. Dad loves the Eagles.”

“So no hockey?”

“Not really. I honestly didn’t really get into hockey until working with the Canes.”

“So now what? You’re a Canes fan?”

“Because I work for them, sure. And you guys aren’t so bad off the ice either.”

Andrei laughs and it’s such a delightful sound. She puts her chin on her palm and listens as he continues talking.

She was hoping not to have to talk to a single person for the rest of the day. She ends up at that cafe with Andrei for over an hour.

…..

Christina grimaces at her TV as she watches the game end, the Hurricanes now on a three game losing streak. It’s still early in the season, but no one likes losing. She glances at her phone as it buzzes, knowing it’s a text from Andrei. They’ve been texting sporadically all night about the game that he’s also watching in his own home. He hasn’t outright said it to her, but she imagines it’s frustrating for him because he can’t be out on the ice with his teammates.

Christina looks at his response with a quiet laugh, shoots back a text and tosses her phone a few feet away from her with a deep breath.

The thing is, when she lets herself really think about it, her and Andrei’s professional relationship from the start has always been different compared to her relationship with the other players. From the first time she introduced herself and saw his smile, she knew this was gonna be tough.

The athlete part of him doesn’t faze her — she’s danced with and been taught by world renowned ballerinas and she worked in the training room of various teams at UNC. It was his ingenuity and kindness that reeled her in. The accented voice paired with his ability to make things look so easy when she knows it’s anything but, always with a smile on his face.

Christina would be lying to herself if she says she hasn’t ever considered her and Andrei as…more. She’d be an idiot not to. Obviously, she knows Andrei is incredibly handsome. She’s known that from the very first time she saw him in the training room last season. And it doesn’t help that he’s also so nice with no pretense. Nice just to be nice.

But it would never happen. Could never happen. He has the entire city of Raleigh falling at his feet and she works with him.

One night when she was a bit too wine tipsy in her dorm last year, she pulled out the contract she had signed and found the tiny section that addressed romantic relationships among “any members of the Carolina Hurricanes organization” and found some super vague shit basically saying that it was okay in most instances. Which it is. One of their assistant coaches is married to the head of the PR department.

But she has an inkling that players are a whole different subclause.

So while they developed a good rapport last season, Christina purposefully kept her distance a bit, sparing little details about her own life and always turning it back to him. To be fair, she was careful around everyone last season, not wanting to get in the way and just wide-eyed overall. But now she’s (hopefully) gonna be around for a bit and will try to let her personality shine a bit more. Push herself to be more casual and comfortable with the staff and team.

Like texting Andrei about things that aren’t related to his recovery.

It started with Andrei texting something funny about one of the pregame photos of Brady that had been tweeted. His comment made Christina snort out her tea as she quickly replied back. It’s not like they’re texting often, but it always puts a smile on her face whenever his name pops up on her phone.

She knows she needs to be careful. But before anything else, she’s just glad to have another new friend. Someone at work she’s comfortable enough to joke around with.

That’s enough for her.

…..

Andrei’s long-waited season debut has the fans, his teammates and the whole staff excited. But no one’s more excited than Andrei himself, who’s bouncing around all day from the moment he walks in for his daily check-in.

As she watches him skate around for warmups, she grins at his infectious happiness. He picks up a water bottle and squirts water on her when he comes back to the bench for a moment and she wants to flip him off so badly. She totally would if there weren’t cameras around and if also wasn’t, you know, unprofessional. He’s lucky she’s wearing a black sweater today. Jordan reaches to pull on the ribbon in her hair and that’s when she makes her way off the bench, causing Doug and the other staff to laugh.

Once the game starts, she does grimace a bit as she’s watching footage of the game from the training room when she sees Andrei go in for a heavy hit. She hears the cheers from the fans and she gets it, but he’s literally just coming off a season ending injury. Yes, he’s a professional athlete, but she’s (almost) a certified athletic trainer.

They win 3-0 and everyone’s pumped. She’s busy documenting notes as the athletes start leaving the arena. Andrei, as instructed, comes in and she makes sure everything’s okay with his knee.

“Hey,” she calls out before he leaves. He turns back around with an expectant smile. She beams. “Good game. Glad to have you back.”

“Thank you,” he says with a grin. “Good to be back.”

…..

When you work in such a team centered environment, there’s always someone around. Always someone to talk to and joke around with. She loves it. The collaboration of the work she does is probably her favorite part.

But she also loves time by herself. So she vows to herself that on every road trip, after some studying, she’ll take the time to explore wherever she is by herself. Whether it’s simply grabbing a coffee or walking around whatever city they’re in or just sitting outside, she’ll carve out some time for herself, while exploring cities that she’s never been to.

The first mini road trip she goes on is to Philadelphia and New York. In Philadelphia, she heads to the Philadelphia Museum of Art. Her younger sister Layla is a graphic design major at Carnegie Mellon so she’s filtered some of her love and knowledge to Christina. With her airpods in, she wanders through the exhibits on her own.

That’s another thing about post-grad. Learning how to do things alone.

New York has a lot more options. She only has one full day she isn’t working and another half day. During the full day when she’s actually in the city, she meets up with a friend from high school for a nice walk around Brooklyn before dinner. On the half day, after morning skate in Long Island, she wants to just people watch outside for a few hours on a weirdly warm day for November.

The elevator doors open and Andrei comes walking out, looking down at his phone. When he looks up, a grin spreads across his face and he locks his phone. “Hi Chrissy.”

She nods. “Svech.” The elevator doors close. That’s fine. She’ll catch the next one. “Where’d you just come back from?”

“Just grabbed some lunch with the guys after practice. Where you off to?”

“Honestly, probably also gonna grab a coffee and then sit outside by the water and just daydream. I brought a book, but we’ll see if I’m in the mood.”

Andrei laughs. “Sounds like a great day.”

It is her alone time, but she asks anyways. “Would you like to join?”

His eyebrows shoot up his forehead. “Oh. I don’t want to intrude or-”

“You wouldn’t be. I’m asking you.”

“Oh. Well, um, yeah, then. Sure. Give me a minute to use the bathroom?”

“Take your time.” He shoots her a thankful smile as he briskly walks to his room while she waits by the elevators, shifting on her feet. A few minutes later, he comes back out, this time with a backwards hat on. He shoves his hands in his off-white sweatshirt and she presses the elevator button, purposefully not looking at him.

There’s something about a backwards hat. It’s actually really annoying how attractive it is.

“How’s your first road trip been?”

Christina smiles as they step into the elevator. “Good. Went to an art museum in Philly. Saw a college friend in Brooklyn and just walked around the city. The rest of the time I’ve been with you guys.”

“You like art?”

“A bit. My sister’s studying graphic design, so her love for it has bleeded into my life.”

“That’s sweet. Are you two close?”

“Yeah. I don’t know if we’re as close as you and your brother though.” She teases, and she swears she sees his cheeks tinge pink as they walk out of the elevator and out of the hotel. “She’s much cooler than I am, just started her second year at Carnegie Mellon. I was actually just texting her because she’s trying to figure out flights to Raleigh for Thanksgiving.”

“She’s coming down?”

“Yup,” they start wandering to the nearby park. “Usually, we’d go back home to Delaware. But since we have games the day before and after and they’re at home, they’re all coming down to me. First Thanksgiving in Raleigh. They’ll probably come to a game or two.”

“That’s really nice.”

“How about you? Is your mom or dad coming to visit anytime soon?”

“Not sure yet, with Geno now back in Russia. My mom was mainly here to keep me company when I was injured. I’m sure you’ll get to meet her soon though.”

They see a cafe ahead of them and she suggests they pop in to grab something. He opens the door for her and also pays for her, which is really annoying and she takes note of his coffee order so that she can get him back once they’re home. Once they receive their coffees, they’re back outside and in the park, sitting and people watching while petting the dogs that occasionally come up to them.

“Do you miss dancing? Like, at the level you were before getting injured?”

A sad smile automatically appears on her face. “All the time. But it’s changed. It used to be more painful and frustrating to think about. Now it’s more of looking back at the good memories.”

“My grandma used to dance as well. She took my brother and I to a ballet in Moscow once. I honestly don’t remember much of it. I was too young.”

Christina chuckles. “Yeah, it’s not for everyone.” She lets out a deep breath. “God, I haven’t seen a ballet in ages.”

“Can I ask how bad your injury was?”

“A recurring stress fracture that required surgery,” she says. “I don’t know if they could ever actually diagnose it officially because it was so fucked up. Or maybe I just block it out of my brain because it was such a painful time.”

“Even after a full recovery, there was no chance to go on as intensely as before?”

“There might’ve been. But I made the choice that I didn’t want my ankles wearing down on me by 25 and like I said, I had other dreams.”

“That must’ve been a hard decision to make.”

Christina swallows. It’s been awhile since she’s talked about this with anyone. “It was. I was heartbroken, honestly. It just felt like my life was over, you know? Obviously, it wasn’t. But I didn’t know that at 15. But if that hadn’t happened, I wouldn’t have thought about going the athletic training route, and in a way, what I’m doing now connects to my dance background, so I’m happy where I am now.”

His eyes light up with hope. “Do you have a video of you dancing?”

She laughs. “I actually do.” She gets her phone out and searches for a particular video. “This was around a year ago. A little across the floor combo we were doing in a class.” She hands him her phone and looks over his shoulder to watch with him. It’s a short video, only about 20 seconds long, but it combines a bit of everything — waltz, pirouettes, leaps and footwork.

He replays it again. She has no idea what to make of that. “I was right.”

“Hm?”

“You’re a beautiful dancer.”

“Oh. That’s kind of you. Thank you.”

“I mean it,” he says. “You have beautiful…lines? Is that the right word?”

“Yeah, actually.” He gives her a triumphant smile and she can’t help but laugh. “Thank you. That's really sweet. I appreciate it.”

He watches the video again. She stares at the side of his face, trying to see what he’s seeing. She can’t quite place it. The only thing she can place is her faster than normal heart rate.

…..

A loss against the Panthers at their barn, a win against Tampa on their ice the next day and then a loss against Philly at home. Andrei still hasn’t recorded his own goal, and Christina knows it’s eating him alive.

It’s funny, because he’s trying not to let it show, especially in front of media. But Christina knows better, especially when he starts pushing himself on the ice even more.

She’s not usually on the bench during morning skates. More often than not, she’s in the training room or her office, studying or doing miscellaneous tasks until players file in during or after practice for various needs. But once in awhile, she likes to walk out to the ice. Today, she’s taking her studying out there to see if the crispness of the air and the sounds of hockey keep her focused.

She’s reading over a passage in her textbook when she sees a shadow fall over the page. She looks up to see Andrei drinking some water.

“If you spray water on this book, you’re paying for another one,” she warns.

“Of course,” he says with an easy smile.

“I hope you’ve been stretching out your knee,” she says. “With how hard you’re going at during practice.”

“How do you know how hard I’m going in practice?”

“It’s part of my job,” she responds dryly, backing away and glaring at Seth as he reaches out to mess up her hair.

“Coming out here to study now?” Andrei asks.

She shrugs. “Trying something new.”

“Is it working?”

“It was,” she says pointedly.

Brady skates to a stop in front of them and laughs. “That’s her telling us to stop annoying her.”

“You could never annoy me, Skjeisy.” Christina grins.

Andrei pouts. “What does Skjeisy have that I don’t?”

“The most beautiful smile,” she grins charmingly. Andrei playfully narrows his eyes and Brady shoots her a wink. No one’s flirting. Christina’s met Gracia a few times and those two childhood friends are very in love with each other. But it’s worth it to see Andrei squeeze water out of his water bottle in Brady’s face.

“When’s your exam again?” Brady asks.

“January 7.”

“That’s soon.”

She sighs, staring down at her book. “Don’t remind me.”

“You’re gonna be great,” Andrei assures her.

“Sure, if you all actually practice and leave me to study.” As if on cue, a whistle is blown and Christina waves her hand at them. “Shoo. If Rod blames me for distracting you, I’ll be out of a job.”

She takes some notes for a few more minutes before giving up and closing her books. She puts her elbows on her knees, resting her chin on the palms of her hands as she watches them focus on winning board battles and protecting the puck. Practice is more intense than usual today as Christina loses herself in the focused energy in the air, eyes tracking the puck and the players and how they’re positioning themselves around the puck. She almost laughs at herself at how hockey she sounds. Her football loving uncle would be proud and a bit confused.

Practice is over, and Christina decides to stay on the bench until everyone clears the tunnel, knowing that if any players need treatment, Doug has it. He would text her a random emoji if he needed her anyways. Last game, he took a liking to the red-headed fairy.

She squints at Andrei, who’s the only player on the ice now, as he takes shot after shot from the blue line. She just observes him and the determined look on his face, the smoothness in his shot.

As if he can feel eyes on him, he turns around and laughs, before gathering the pucks and skating over to her. “Stalking me?”

“Observing,” she corrects. “How do you feel? Physically?”

“Good.”

“Good,” she says. “You look good.”

“Oh?”

She rolls her eyes. “You know what I mean.” She trails behind him as they head to the trainers room. “Don’t forget. Doctor’s appointment tomorrow.”

“I swear you’re my personal calendar.”

“That’s actually my second job” she says flatly, a smile peeking out after he grins at her. “Go get your protein shake or whatever disgusting thing you like to drink.”

“Sassy today.”

“I want to go home,” she deadpans. “I’ve been up since 5 a.m.”

To his credit, he looks concerned. “Why so early?”

“Studying.”

“Oh,” he says softly. “Well, make sure you sleep. Sleep is important.”

She has to chuckle. “Thanks Svechy. I’ll keep that in mind.”

He flicks his hand. “Go home.”

“I don’t think you have the authority to tell me that. You’re not my boss.”

“But I am,” they both turn to see Doug peeking out of a doorway. “Get out of here, Chris.”

She narrows her eyes playfully. “You schemers.”

“Go sleep,” Andrei says, pulling at her ponytail lightly. She whacks his hand away.

The last thing she sees as she walks into her office is his smirk.

….

The day before Thanksgiving, she’s preoccupied with her parents and sister flying in for the first half of the day. She picks them up from the airport and takes them all to one of her favorite lunch spots before she has to head to work and they go sightseeing on their own. She offered to get them tickets for the game against Edmonton, but they waved her off. They’ll enjoy their time at a game on Sunday.

Thanksgiving morning is peaceful, with the Macy’s Parade on the TV as everyone is just relaxing. In the afternoon, as Christina and her mom are taking charge of dinner, someone’s knocking on her apartment door. Immediately, Christina is confused. She’s almost positive her dad and Aimee grabbed her keys before heading out for a quick walk. She calls out a “coming” as the person knocks again.

“Andrei?”

He shifts from side to side, flashing a quick but genuine smile. He looks extra cozy in a brown sweatshirt and a backwards hat. “Hi Chrissy. Happy Thanksgiving. I’m sorry for interrupting.”

“Not at all. Happy Thanksgiving. What are you-what’s up?”

He holds out a cake container. “Uh, I’m heading to Staalsy’s for Thanksgiving at their place, and I made ptichye moloko, which is a cake my mom makes for me back home in Russia. I made two. I was wondering if you wanted the other?”

Her mouth drops open. “Oh, Andrei. That’s…you didn’t need to do that.”

“I wanted to,” he replies. “And honestly, I hope it’s good. It’s my first time making it and I had to call my mom for help. I made too much batter so, two cakes.”

She laughs, propping her hip against the doorframe, easy smile on her face. “I bet it’s delicious. Thank you. You’re so-you really didn’t have to do this.”

Andrei shakes his head. “I wanted to-“

“Honey?” Marianne’s voice calls out from the kitchen. “Who’s at the door?” She doesn’t bother waiting for an answer before appearing.

Christina internally sighs. “Andrei, this is my mom Marianne. Mom, this is Andrei. He’s one of the guys on the team.”

Andrei balances the cake on one hand while reaching out to shake Marianne’s hand with the other, easygoing smile on his face. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Hawthorne. I apologize for showing up without warning.”

“Oh, no apology necessary!” Marianne smiles, and Christina can tell immediately that her mother is charmed. She wants to roll her eyes. “Are you staying for dinner? You’re more than welcome.”

Andrei shakes his head. “No, though thank you for the offer. I’m on the way to our captain’s house. I just wanted to stop by and drop this off.”

Marianne takes the cake from his hands with a delighted smile. “That’s so sweet of you.”

“He made it himself,” Christina chimes in, smirking in his direction. “Hopefully it doesn’t poison us.”

Andrei laughs. “Hopefully.”

The door opens again, and her dad and sister are back from their walk around the block. Christina swallows. Guess he’s meeting the whole family today.

“Andrei, this is my dad Mark and my sister Aimee. Father and Aimee, this is-“

“Andrei Svechnikov,” her dad finishes for her. He and Andrei shake hands and a weird feeling appears in her stomach. “I watch the Canes games from time to time.”

“It’s nice to meet you, sir.” He then turns to Aimee and shakes her hand with a small smile. “You too, Aimee. Your sister talks about you all the time.”

Aimee shoots her sister a look. Christina telepathically tells her to shut up. “Does she really?”

“She does. All good things.”

“It’s good to see you back on the ice again,” Mark says. “How’s the knee?”

“Knee is good,” Andrei says, before casting a smile in her direction. “All thanks to Chrissy here.”

“He’s lying,” she deadpans. “I just make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.”

“Are you staying for dinner?” Aimee asks with a hopeful look.

Christina shakes her head. “I wouldn’t subject him to that. He’s going to Captain Staalsy’s.”

“Lame,” Aimee says. Christina elbows her.

“Chrissy mentioned you all were coming to a game?” Andrei asks.

“Yup. We’ll be going Sunday.”

“Have you ever been to a Canes game?” Mark shakes his head. Andrei grins. Christina wants to poke his dimple. “Well, hopefully we put on a good show.”

She snorts. “Alright, Andrei. Better leave before Dad starts grilling you on the powerplay.” Expectedly, Andrei’s eyes light up. He turns to her as she rolls her eyes.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna stay for dinner?” Marianne asks.

Andrei grins. “I’m sure. Thank you though.” He looks back at Christina. “See you tomorrow?”

“Bright and early.”

He turns back to her family with a warm smile. “It was nice to meet you all.”

Christina nods to the door, “I’ll walk you out.” She catches Aimee’s smirk and rolls her eyes. She puts a shoe in the door so that it won’t shut on her as she faces Andrei. “Thank you for the cake. Seriously.”

“Careful,” he teases, and if butterflies flutter in her stomach from his tone that’s no one else’s business. “It could be awful.”

“It won’t be.” She grins and gives him a quick hug before she can overthink it. She pulls away before she wants to. “Happy Thanksgiving. I’ll see you tomorrow. Thank you again.”

“Happy Thanksgiving.”

She watches him disappear from the hallway before she lets out a deep breath.

…..

The crowd at the PNC arena goes nuts with Andrei scores with less than two minutes left in the third against Columbus. Christina herself bounces around on her toes in excitement, her parents and sister somewhere up in the box seats. What a way to get your first of the season. She feels weirdly proud of him.

She only catches him as she’s heading out a bit earlier than normal to drive back with her family. And by catch him, she only means by eye contact as Andrei’s swept up in media. She stops for a moment and just leans against the doorway of the locker room, watching him answer questions

Christina’s about to push herself off the doorway when Andrei’s eyes meet hers. He’s still talking, but his smile widens, and she just shoots him a thumbs up and a grin of her own before walking to the parking garage.

…..

Christina groans as she skims the email from the management of her apartment complex. Fixing the water pipes will shut down water for 24 hours. It’s not the end of the world, but how inconvenient.

She leans back in her chair, mentally going through her mind to see where she could crash for a whole day last minute. The one friend she would go to immediately is away on vacation right now.

She’s twiddling her fingers as she walks to the locker room, needing to check in with Andrei. But weirdly, he’s nowhere to be found. She’s about to walk out of the room just as Andrei walks in.

“Oh, perfect,” Christina says. “I was looking for you.”

“Were you?”

She tries not to roll her eyes as he follows her back to her office. “Get your ass on the table.”

He laughs, following her instructions as she works on his shoulder. She must sigh without realizing because his eyebrows furrow. “Everything okay?”

“Hm?”

“Are you okay?”

“Oh, I’m fine,” she waves him off. “The pipes are getting fixed in my apartment building for a day so I gotta figure out where I’m crashing for the night. That’s all.”

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes. “That must be annoying.”

She shrugs. “It is what it is, but the friend I usually would stay with is away right now, so that kinda has me scrambling. I probably will have to get a hotel room for the night or something.”

“How about you stay with me?”

Christina has her back towards him to take some notes, before she spins back around and raises an eyebrow. “Andrei, no. I can’t-”

“I have a guest room. Multiple guest rooms, actually,” he runs a hand through his hair. “It’s no problem. Serious. It would be like I’m not even there.” She opens her mouth to protest but closes it again, weighing her options. Like he senses her hesitation, he barrels on. “You don’t have to drop money on a hotel. And only for a night, right? Just stay with me.”

She bites her lip in thought. It would save her a lot of trouble. And he’s right, it’s just for a night. “Are you sure?” She says.

“100 percent,” he promises.

“Okay,” she says gratefully. “Thank you. I owe you big.”

“No worries,” he says. “I text you my address. Come over whenever you’re ready. I text you the garage code too in case I’m not home.”

She’s a bit surprised that he just blindly trusts her so much, but he trusts her to handle his body and recovery, which is arguably the most important thing for a professional athlete, so staying in his home is next to nothing.

But it’s a big deal to her. She’s reminded of that when she drives home to grab some things. She’s reminded that her phone buzzes with a text from him, the garage code like he promised, along with what her sushi preferences are — anything, it’s her favorite food. She’s reminded of that as she drives over, immediately feeling overwhelmed at how nice this neighborhood is.

She forgets often that these players are earning more than she ever will. Andrei is a multimillionaire. The cost of his living room alone is probably worth more than a year of Christina’s current monthly rent.

It doesn’t phase her necessarily. It’s just an observation.

As she pulls into his driveway, she sees Andrei coming out of his garage. He perks up with a wave, waiting for her to park her car. He approaches her as she comes out of her car with her backpack.

“Just in time. I grabbed dinner.”

She glances at the bag in his hands and she tries not to gulp at the familiar (expensive) restaurant logo “I could’ve grabbed it on the way here.”

He waves her off as they walk through the garage, him swinging her backpack over his shoulder. “You’re a guest in my home. Why would I make you do that?”

Christina’s not used to this. The chivalry. The acts of service. It all feels a bit too much, especially as he gives her a brief house tour and shows her the guest room. It’s all so minimalistic and clean and expensive and she was not prepared to be staying the night in Andrei’s house today. Or ever.

She jumps in the shower really quickly to wash off the day. It takes her a moment to figure out how to control the temperature. She’s afraid to mess anything up. When she walks back out into the main room, Andrei’s just finished setting up the table. When she spots the familiar label of her favorite wine, she blinks.

He notices her silence and chuckles sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. “I asked Taylor what your favorite wine is.”

“You could’ve asked me,” she says softly.

He shrugs. “I wanted to surprise you, I guess.”

She hoists herself up on the stool of the island, trying to control the butterflies in her stomach. “Well, thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”

Being with Andrei in his home is expectedly intimate. She feels very comfortable at work to poke fun at the players and staff. But it’s different sitting for meals in the kitchen at the office compared to sitting across a kitchen island eating sushi that Christina only has when her parents foot the bill. Something as simple as Andrei’s sushi plopping into his soy sauce and her bark of laughter feels almost too much, especially when he chuckles with her at his misery. Because it’s just the two of them in his home and it’s almost too much.

But even if it’s too much, she doesn’t feel uncomfortable at all. In fact, it’s probably weird how comfortable she does feel, as her and Andrei chat about everything from the team to his brother to her college days. When his dimple pops out and his brown eyes brighten with curiosity, she has to remind herself that she works with him. They’re co-workers at best. Friends possibly.

She gets up to clear their dishes away, but Andrei’s quicker and pushes her shoulder down so she’s sitting again. She gives him a look. “Andrei. Come on. You bought dinner and you’re letting me stay for the night. I can wash dishes.”

He shakes his head, “You don’t need to do anything but sit there all pretty.”

She just blinks and sips her wine because what the fuck.

They debate putting on a movie or show, but end up just hanging out on the couch and continuing to talk because he’s just so easy to talk to. Christina stops herself after her third glass of wine when she remembers she has work tomorrow, and she thinks he’s so sweet for grabbing her a glass of cold water without her even asking.

When they’re winding down for the night, he hovers by the door of the guest room, making sure she doesn’t need anything. When she assures him that she’s all good, he leaves her with a “goodnight” and the cutest smile and Christina knows that she’s fucked.

The next morning, she wakes up to the smell of coffee. When she walks out, yawning and rubbing her eyes, she sees two plates of waffles.

“Good morning,” she says with an air of surprise. “This looks great.”

He chuckles. “Eat it first before you say anything.”

She hums, making sweater paws with her UNC sweatshirt and smiling when he slides over a mug of coffee.

“You sleep well?”

“I did, thank you. You have a very comfy mattress.”

His dimple pops out and Christina can feel herself falling. “You’re welcome anytime.”

That statement doesn’t help either.

After they finish their breakfasts, she yet again isn’t allowed to help with dishes, so she wraps her hands around her coffee and watches him. “Thank you, though, Andrei. Seriously. For letting me stay over. You saved me a lot of trouble.”

“Of course,” he says over his shoulder, catching sight of her packed backpack in the living room. “Are you heading out so soon?”

“Yeah. I have to get into work earlier than you do, remember?” She teases, as she finishes her coffee, hands him the mug and goes to grab her backpack. “I also wanna stop by my place to drop this stuff off and pick some stuff up before heading to the rink.”

He turns off the faucet, wipes his hands and walks over to her. “I was gonna say I’ll miss you, but I see you in probably an hour.”

She laughs, not quite processing what he just insinuated. “Probably.”

“Can I ask you something before you leave?”

“Yeah. What’s up?”

“Would you want to go on a date with me sometime?”

Her jaw drops open a bit. Oh. “Oh.”

He backtracks. “You can say no. I won’t be hurt. Or, well. I just want to ask to see if you give me that chance. I really like you, Chrissy.”

“No, it’s not that. It’s just…Andrei. We work together.”

“I know, I know.”

She lets out a sigh, tipping her head back and squeezing her eyes shut. “Andrei-”

“One date,” he practically begs. “Let me take you on one date to prove that this is real to me.”

She swallows, her resolve starting to crumble down from his pleading eyes. “I could lose my job.”

“You won’t. And I wouldn’t let that happen.”

She can’t help but snort. “Carolina loves you, but not that much.”

He pouts before taking her hands. “Christina,” he says sincerely. “Just one chance. And then if it doesn’t go well, we stay coworkers and friends and this never happened.”

“And if it does go well?” She bites her lip.

The dimple appears on his cheek again. She wants to kiss it. “Then we figure out where to go from there.”

“There’s just, it’s not- you’re wonderful and kind and sweet, but I’m putting a lot on the line here.” She feels vulnerable, her voice shaking at the edges. “I’ve worked too hard to have this fall apart on me.”

“I know. I understand.” And huh, Christina thinks. He actually probably does understand more than most, because if Andrei is anything, he's a hard worker. He gently places a hand on her waist and she can’t fucking think. “I wouldn’t ask you just to ask you or risk anything.”

“You like me that much, huh?” Christina jokes weakly.

Andrei squeezes her waist lightly “I do.”

Oh. Okay.

A few more seconds pass with Andrei staring at her hopefully and Christina blinking rapidly. He’s so gentle with her it makes her wanna scream into a pillow.

“One date,” she relents. His eyes sparkle and her smile grows with his. “You have one shot, Svech. Use it wisely.”

“Oh believe me, I will.” He says confidently. “When are you free?”

“My work schedule is the exact same as yours.”

He lets go of her hands to dig into his pocket for his phone, checking the Canes schedule that’s synched up to his calendar. “When we’re in New York. Two weeks from now.”

“New Year’s Eve?”

“Yeah. I know we’re already all going out at night but during the day. Just you and me.”

Immediately, her mind goes into planning mode. “Sure, yeah. That works. I have some friends who live in the city I could ask for recommendations for-”

“No,” she tilts her head in confusion at his firm tone. “You don’t worry about anything. I take care of all of it.”

“Andrei.”

“I take care of it, Chrissy.” he repeats, shoving his phone back in his pocket. “All you need to do is show up.”

She opens her mouth and closes it, before, “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay. Will you at least tell me what to wear?”

“Anything. You always look beautiful.”

She rolls her eyes at the fact that he’s already loading on the charm and they’re not even on the date yet. “Nice try. I’m not wearing my work attire to our date.”

“Seems like you already know what you’re wearing, then.”

She huffs before softening. “Thanks for letting me stay the night.”

Andrei clicks his tongue. “Of course. I see you later?”

Christina chuckles. “Yup.”

They walk to his front door, and he hesitates for a second before leaning down to give her a quick kiss on the cheek. She’s absolutely floored. “Get home safe.”

She gives him one last smile as goodbye. It isn’t until she’s in her car when she leans her forehead on her steering wheel and smiles into it does it fully sink in.

She has a date in two weeks.

…..

No one likes a loss, and even if Christina is kinda immune to it by now, it’s not fun. But the holidays are near and her heart feels light as she packs up her things. Her flight takes off early in the morning, so she’s hoping to catch a few hours of sleep before then. A knock on the doorframe has her looking up to see Andrei dressed back in his game day suit with a light smile on his face.

“Hey,” she greets. “Everything alright? You need treatment?”

“Everything’s fine. I’m okay.” He says, shuffling in and looking a bit sheepish.

Christina hesitates. She’s not sure how Andrei is after a loss, if he likes to talk about it or forget about it. “You wanna talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“Okay.” She looks down at his outstretched hand holding a box she didn’t see at first. “What’s that?”

He clears his throat. “It’s, uh, your Christmas present. You fly back home in the morning, yes?”

“Yeah,” she shakes her head. “Andrei, I-I don’t need…I didn’t get you anything.”

“That’s okay.” The annoying thing is that she knows he means that. She tentatively takes the box out of his hand and opens it. Inside is a pair of silver dewdrop earrings.

“Andrei.”

“Uh, I asked Taylor and they told me you wore silver and gave their approval. But if you don’t like them, I can return them and exchange them for-”

“Andrei,” he halts as she looks at him. “They’re beautiful. Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome.”

“You really didn’t have to get me anything.”

“I wanted to.”

She chuckles shakily, closing the box. “We haven’t even been on our date yet.”

“So?” he shrugs, like it’s not a big deal. But it is a big deal. “You’re important to me. I get everyone important to me Christmas presents.”

Christina wants to melt at the soft look in Andrei’s eyes. She’s a bit at a loss for words, so she just gives him a tight hug. She lets herself fall into him as his arms wrap around her securely, resting her chin on his shoulder and letting her eyes fall shut at how safe she feels.

She reluctantly pulls away and puts some space between them. They are still at work after all. “Thank you. Seriously. You’re so sweet.”

“I’m glad you like them,” he says with a light in his eyes.

“I’m sorry I didn’t get you anything.”

He shakes his head. “No need.” She gives him a look as he chuckles. “I promise. A date with you is enough presents to last me a lifetime.” Jesus Christ. Where does he pull this shit out of? He just grins. “You heading out? I walk you to your car.”

She swallows and nods, packing up the last of her things, carefully placing the box on top. She makes sure she’s not looking at him when she says her next statement. “You’re way too nice to me.” Silence for a bit besides her rustling her things. Once she’s ready to go, she looks back at him, who’s staring at her thoughtfully. It throws her off guard. “What?”

“I’m not too nice to you,” Andrei says, eyebrows furrowed adorably and sincerely. “I’m just..how I am.”

“It’s not a bad thing,” Christina quickly assures him as she flicks off the lights. “I just, uh, am not used to it? None of my exes have ever even treated me this nicely.”

“That’s a shame,” he says. “You deserve someone being kind to you. No such thing as too nice.”

She just swallows as they head down the hallway and to the parking lot. Because what can she say to that? Andrei has always been sweet and polite since the day they met, but she didn’t expect him to be so sincerely earnest.

She slides into the passenger seat of her car and he leans down, resting his hand against the hood. “You’ll be good to go home?”

“Yeah.”

“Merry Christmas, Christina,” he says with a grin.

“Merry Christmas, Andrei.”

…..

Andrei gets a hat trick against Montreal and looks right at her as his teammates converge upon him. She has no idea how he even finds her so quickly considering she’s not standing where she usually would be, but he finds her anyway.

She grins at him and he gives an imperceptible nod paired with his signature charming smile.

Three more days.

…..

Half an hour before Andrei’s supposed to be at her hotel room door, Christina is already ready.

She hadn’t managed to squeeze many details out of him, because he insisted that he would take care of it. It’s not like she doubts him, perse. But she’d at least like to know how to dress so she doesn’t feel out of place. She told him that, and he caved, saying “not a sweatshirt, but a nice sweater or dress will be fine, but not overly fancy,” which, actually, doesn’t say much. But she could work with that.

And she did. When packing for this mini-road trip, she put thought into what she would wear today. She’s settled for a black-neck long sleeve with her favorite dark green pants, paired with black ankle-high boots and her favorite brown peacoat.

As she sits on her bed and waits, she starts becoming more fidgety. She’s nervous, yes, but not because she doesn’t know him. She has a feeling that he’s going to be the perfect gentleman and the date will go well.

She’s nervous that it’ll go too well and she’ll get ahead of herself.

Before she knows it, she hears a knock on her door. With a deep breath, she grabs her bag and walks over to open the door.

She swings it open and swallows. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Andrei says softly. She takes a moment to look at his outfit — a navy blue button up with a gray jacket draped over his arm. With black dress pants and sneakers, she’s thankful that it seems like their outfits match on the formal scale. He clears his throat. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” she says softly. “You look great too.”

“Shall we?”

Christina reaches into her purse to make sure she has her room key, phone and wallet before nodding. “Where are we headed?” She asks as they walk down the hall.

“We’ll have to head on the train a few stops to Lincoln Center.” Lincoln Center? She furrows her eyebrows. He clears his throat as they step into the elevator, him leaning against the wall. “Today’s the last day they show The Nutcracker. With your dancing history, I figure, I don’t know, maybe it would be fun?”

Suddenly, a frog appears in her throat. It’s probably the most thoughtful first date she could go on. She looks into his earnest eyes, as if he thinks she’ll hate it or not wanna go.

“It’s perfect,” she manages to get out. He’s perfect. “I-I haven’t seen a ballet in ages.”

“I know,” he responds. “You told me, remember?”

Oh. She did. And he remembered. She bites her lip to keep herself from blurting out that this might be the best date she’s ever been on and they just stepped out of the elevator.

She can tell he’s a bit nervous, quieter than usual. They’re not quite holding hands, but their fingers keep brushing and she feels the ghost of his hand on her lower back as they head down to the subway and onto the train.

“When’s the last time you were in New York City?” He asks.

The train lurches and Christina takes a second to find her footing. “It’s been at least two years. I used to come up here for, funny enough, dance intensives and camps when I was in middle and high school.”

“Are you planning on getting back to classes now that it’s been a few months?”

Again, she’s impressed with the things Andrei actually remembers. She shrugs. “I definitely think I’m still too busy during the season. But maybe in the off-season.”

More people pile onto the train, causing the two to move closer towards each other. She can smell his cologne. She looks up in shock at the feeling of a feather-like kiss on her forehead.

“Thank you.”

“For?”

“Saying yes. This will be the best date of your life, I promise.”

She just leans her head onto his elbow as the train runs on its tracks.

As they walk into Lincoln Center, all Christina can do is gape as they find their seats, Andrei leading the way — in the first row of the second wing. It’s a perfect view of the stage with all the formations, lighting and sound. Andrei plays with her hand the whole time and it feels so good to see a dance performance again. During intermission, she gushes over the choreography and costumes as Andrei just smiles, listening intently to her observations. When she suddenly stops and apologizes for rambling, he tells her to keep going. (“I love how much you love dance.”)

Afterwards, they head to a nearby dessert place and share a bowl of shaved ice and ice cream. She’s having such a good time talking with him that it isn’t until the sky becomes dark does she realize they both have to head back to the hotel before anyone questions them and they can get ready for the team and staff New Year’s Eve party tonight.

She swipes her keycard, closing the door as he steps into her room. “Thank you for this. I had a really good time.”

“Yeah?”

She nods, biting her lip with a small smile. “I did.”

“A good time enough that you want to do it again?”

“I think so.”

“Yeah?” His eyes are practically sparkling and Christina’s elated that it’s because of her. “I didn't blow my shot?”

She chuckles, “You did.” She doesn't want to tell him that if she’s being honest with herself, he had her from the very start.

“Great,” he grins. “Great. I’m glad you had a really good time. I was really nervous.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Oh,” she says, walking closer to him and instinctively wrapping her hands loosely around his neck. “You didn’t have to be.”

“You-you always make me a bit nervous, even if I don’t show it,” he admits.

Christina’s stomach tingles. “Can we go on another date when we’re back in Raleigh? Maybe after I take my exam?”

“Yes,” he rushes out. “Of course. Yes.”

She catches his eyes flickering to her lips for a split second and decides to just bite the bullet. She presses a delicate kiss on his lips, and backs away to see a light pink dusting his cheeks. “I’m gonna go get ready for tonight.”

He chases her lips, causing her to giggle. “Bye,” he mumbles against her lips. “I see you in a bit.”

As soon as her door shuts, she lets out a little squeal into her hands. Happy New Year’s Eve to her, indeed.

…..

Christina’s certification exam happens to fall on a rare week where the Canes have no games, which she’s grateful for because she doesn’t want to miss out on any. There are some practices, but she’s excused from those to study.

The day after her exam, she feels a large weight lift off her shoulders. She won’t get the results for a few weeks, but she feels confident that she did well and she can pat herself on the back for a bit.

She comes into practice in high spirits, having gotten a coffee and pastry from her favorite cafe on the way as a treat. She takes congratulatory messages from all the staff and some players with a smile. When Andrei skates up at the start of practice to her on the bench, he just smiles at her, shooting her a quick wink before skating off. She hopes she’s not blushing.

He’s left her alone in the meanwhile while she’s been studying, but she’s hoping to catch him before he leaves the rink today to see when they can go out again.

Unfortunately, the team is in the video room as Christina heads to her office to pack up for the day. She guesses she’ll have to talk to Andrei tomorrow. She could just text or call him, but that doesn’t feel good enough.

When arriving at her car, she stops short and squints. There’s a bouquet of flowers wrapped in brown paper tucked inbetween the door handle, red roses and sunflowers to be exact.

“Oh good, you haven’t left yet,” she whips around to see Andrei jogging towards her.

She turns back around to her car, staring at the flowers as he stops beside her. “What’s this?”

“A little gift. To congratulate you on finishing your exam.”

She swallows, suddenly emotional. “They’re beautiful.”

“Beautiful flowers for a-”

She whacks him lightly. “Don’t finish that sentence, you sap.”

He laughs. It’s becoming one of her favorite sounds. “But I mean it.”

“I know,” she finally turns to look at her and grins. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

She tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. “Are you around this week to grab dinner or something?”

He runs a hand through his hair. “You know my schedule more than anyone.” She rolls her eyes as he chuckles. “Of course I am. We’ll find time.”

She hums. “Okay.”

“What should I tell the guys for now?” A sudden flurry of anxiety flashes through her veins. Andrei must see her face change, because he continues quickly. “I don’t have to say anything. We can keep it quiet.”

“Would you mind if we did? Just because it’s so…”

“I don’t mind,” his dimple pops out. “Promise. Let’s just go on another date first. Sound good?”

She bites her lip with a nod. “Yeah.”

“Yeah,” he repeats. His hands itch to reach towards her before he remembers that they’re just outside of the rink and that anybody could walk out at any minute. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“See you tomorrow. Thank you for the flowers, seriously.”

“I hope you’re proud of yourself,” he says, backing away. “You’re so smart and you worked really hard.”

She looks down at her shoes, warmth spreading through her body. “Thanks. Have a good night.”

“You too.”

(When Christina goes home and arranges the flowers in a vase, she sends Andrei a picture. He responds immediately with the heart-eyed emoji, and she feels the excitement of something new starting.)

…..

Christina’s a smart girl. When she gets a text from Doug a few weeks (and more than a handful of dates with Andrei) later to come to one of the conference rooms, she has a feeling it’s about her and Andrei. Though who would’ve said something?

Her stomach drops on the walk over, her palms sweating as she fiddles with her staff badge. When she walks in, she sees Doug, Mary, head of the HR department, Coach Brind’Amour and Andrei himself all around a rectangular table.

Mary offers a warm smile. “Hi Christina.”

Christina tries to smile back while shutting the door behind her. “Hi Mary and everyone.”

“Please take a seat,” Mary says. The only empty one is next to Andrei. Christina gingerly sits down. “I guess we’ll just cut to the chase. It’s come to our attention that you and Andrei here are in a romantic relationship.”

She blinks. Well, yeah. But-“From who?”

“From me.” Andrei says. She whips her head to look at him and he grimaces. “I’m sorry. I know we planned to go together next week, but I slipped up in front of Coach this morning and…yeah.”

“Of course you did,” Christina mutters. She hears Doug trying to cover a snort. “Um, yes, uh, we are. Seeing each other. Together. Whatever you wanna call it. We were going to come to your office next week. We weren’t gonna hide it or anything, I promise.”

“I understand,” Mary says. “First of all, your job is not in jeopardy. You’re not going to get fired because of this. Especially because it’s obvious you two weren’t trying to hide anything. ” Christina knows that, but she would be lying if she said that she wasn’t a little bit relieved. “Workplace relationships occur all the time. However, as I’m sure you both understand, your particular situation is a bit different. I have to ask when you two started this relationship.”

Christina lets Andrei take the lead, partially curious about what he’ll say. He doesn’t hesitate. “New Year’s Eve.”

She smiles internally. It’s nice to know he considers their first official date as serious as she does.

“You do understand that in the workplace, there are boundaries.”

Andrei and Christina both nod. Christina continues, twisting her fingers. “Of course. I’ll obviously continue with my responsibilities as I have been since I joined the organization and continue to do the best I can do with every player and staff member. Our relationship won’t affect that at all, I promise.”

“And I also understand the boundaries,” Andrei adds. “This will also not affect my performance on the ice and off. I continue being professional with all staff.”

“You both understand that no matter what happens that your professional relationship comes first?”

“Yes.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“And you both understand that when you come into work, you’re at work and focused on work?” They both nod. Mary looks around the room. “I mean, that’s really all I got. It seems like you two understand. I’ll draw out the paperwork and get it back to you two in a few days. Doug?”

Doug clears his throat. “First of all, I called this and Steve owes me $50.” Andrei lets out a surprised laugh but Christina isn’t even fazed. “Only thing I got is that I should probably take you off as the main person of contact for Svech for his general recovery regime we started in the beginning.”

She kinda saw that coming. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Andrei about to protest but she kicks him underneath the table. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

“No worries. I’ll just take over. There’s not much to that anymore anyways, right?” She nods. He grins. “Great. As long as you keep doing the good work you’re doing, no issues here. Coach? Anything to add?”

Christina swallows looking at Coach Brind’Amour, but she breathes easier when he smiles a bit. “Nothing really from me. Svechy, you know what I expect from you. That doesn’t change. And Christina, you’ve done your job wonderfully thus far and as long as that doesn’t change, which I’m sure it won’t, no issues here. Do your teammates know, Svech?”

Andrei smirks. “Some of them have probably picked up on it. Nothing for sure though.”

Coach grins wryly. “You can be the one to tell them then, should you want to.”

“You’re gonna get chirped like hell,” Christina snickers, making everyone in the room laugh.

Andrei looks over at her with a small pout. “And you won’t?”

“A little. But you’re the one playing with them. I’m just an lowly assistant trainer.”

Doug cackles. “Chrissy, I think you underestimate how much the boys like you. Get ready for comments everyday.”

“But not too mean,” Andrei says.

Christina snorts. “Down, boy.” She turns back to Mary, Coach and Doug with a smile, feeling more comfortable now. “Is there anything else?”

Mary shrugs. “Besides the paperwork I’ll get you two to sign later, nope. You two are free to go. Thanks for coming in."

They all file out of the conference room while Christina and Andrei linger. Once everyone is out of earshot, she playfully shoves him. “Really?” She deadpans.

“I’m sorry!”

She chuckles. “It’s fine. At least it’s out of the way. Would appreciate a warning next time though.”

He nods solemnly. “I know. I’m really sorry. It won’t happen again.”

She swallows, before leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek and going their separate ways.

(Andrei lingers to watch her turn the corner of the hallway, a big smile on his face. Rod watches him)

…..

three years later

The times that Christina is on the bench has gotten higher and higher the longer she’s been here. Hell, she’s one of few women to this day that has been on an NHL bench as a trainer, which is ridiculous since it’s 2027 and she’s just doing her job. Doug’s son is getting married this weekend so Christina knew she’d be taking over head duties for this game against the Rangers long before.

It’s thrilling every time though, being on the bench. Everything’s so much louder and things seem to move so much faster, even though she’s been doing this for three years. Since puck drop, she’s been in the zone and thankfully so far, not needed.

Until Andrei gets checked. Hard. Which rarely happens since he’s the one usually doing the checking.

Fights break out on the ice, whistles are blown and Christina doesn’t need the ref’s signal — or anyone’s — to know that she needs to scurry out there fast. She’s praying that it looks worse than it is.

She bends down next to Andrei, who’s crouched over in pain and places a gentle hand on his back. “Hey, baby. It’s me. Can you tell me what hurts?” He’s breathing heavily and doesn’t respond for a few seconds. “You have to tell me what hurts so I can help you.” He mumbles something in Russian and while Christina is 90% sure of what he’s saying, she can’t take any risks right now. “English, baby, please.”

“Chest.”

Okay. Lungs. Maybe ribs. He’s talking and breathing fine, even if heavily. “Okay,” she nods, going through her mental checklist rapidly. “Can you skate off by yourself?” He nods and she just rubs his back, giving him a few seconds. He eventually gets up on his own, which is a good sign, and she tries not to eat shit as they both get off the ice and go straight down the tunnel.

Once he’s sat down on a training table, she puts her hands on his cheeks. “Drei. I need to hear the words from you.”

Even in his injured state, Andrei knows. “I’m okay, solnyshka. Just hurting a bit.”

“Okay. Let’s get your gear off and see what’s going on, yeah?” She helps him get off his gear until he’s completely shirtless. “Lie back for me.” She does her routine, pressing in specific spots and seeing how he reacts. She winces every time he hisses, even though it’s helping her determine what’s wrong. She goes through her questions, quickly determining if he’s done for the day or may be able to head back out. It's the end of the second period anyways, so they have more time to assess.

“You got your shit rocked.” She says bluntly. She smiles lightly when she gets the reaction she wants, which is a snort out of him.

“Yeah, which is fucking annoying.”

She swallows. “But you’re okay?”

“Yeah. Think it was more of just an impact hit.”

“Good, good.”

“What are you thinking, Doc?” Andrei jokes. “Am I good to go for the third period?”

“That really depends on you,” she says. “Like you said, it seems like it was more just an impact hit. Beside soreness and tenderness, nothing’s out of place or broken or sprained. But it’s all about how you feel.”

“Then why do you sound unsure?”

“Because I’m trying to talk to you like your trainer, not your fiance.”

Andrei softens and she has to look away. “Talk to me like you’re my fiance, solnyshka.”

“It was just a scary few seconds there, when you didn’t get up. That’s all.”

She swallows as he puts down the ice pack and puts his hands on her cheeks to make her look at him. “I’m sorry I scared you.”

She waves his apology away. “It’s okay. Getting hit is part of the gig. I know that by now.”

He rubs his thumbs on her cheek. “Still. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s just hard sometimes. Seeing you go down. Keep icing,” she instructs, backing away. Christina’s not afraid of being caught with PDA nowadays. Everyone in the organization knows they’re together after three years. But she still prefers keeping up a level of professionalism at work.

“I think I’m gonna go back out, but I do limited minutes.”

She furrows her eyebrows. That doesn’t sound like him. “Limited minutes?” He just shrugs. “Andrei.” She deadpans.

“It depends on me, right? How I feel?” He says, throwing her words back at her as he starts putting his gear back on.

“Yes. But you’re Andrei Svechnikov. You don’t know what the word limited means because you have no sense of self preservation.”

“Limited minutes,” he says firmly. “I don’t want you to worry about me.”

“The ring on my finger kinda indicates that I’ll always worry about you,” she responds dryly.

He laughs, standing up. “Only for tonight, to be safe.” They hear the boys about to head out for the period and start walking out of the room. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

“Just doing my job.”

He pulls her in to place a quick kiss on her lips. “And you do it well.”

“Good luck out there. Love you.”

“Love you more.” He runs back onto the ice with his teammates as she follows slower behind.

“He all good?” Coach Brind’Amour asks when she’s back on the bench.

“Yeah. Up to him if he wants to take every shift, but he’s cleared to go.”

Coach nods, “It never gets easier, does it?”

“Hm?”

“The look you had on your face when Svechy went down. It’s the same look I have when my son goes down. Still. And he’s been playing his whole life.”

She shrugs, trying to be casual. “It’s part of the job I signed up for.”

“Sure. But that doesn’t mean it’s easy.”

They both watch as the teams skate to center ice to take the faceoff. No, she thinks. It most definitely does not.

It’s close to midnight when she and Andrei are walking out of the arena together. She yawns as she leans into him and he puts an arm around her shoulder. Luckily they have the day off tomorrow. Maybe she’ll force Andrei to try a new recipe for dinner together that she found online.

It’s not until she’s in bed, listening the shower run as Andrei quickly rinses, does she see her notifications. Fifteen texts from six people.

She clicks Layla’s first. It’s a link to a short Twitter video. She clicks on it.

It’s a short clip of the broadcast right after Andrei’s injury, a replay she winces at, cameras showing her running out and all the chaos before they head into the tunnel. But it’s what the commentators are saying that Layla — and all her other friends who sent her messages — are freaking out about.

“Svechnikov seems to be alright, able to get up on his own and slowly skate to the bench, which is always a good sign.”

“Christina, the Hurricanes’ assistant athletic trainer is out there with him, with Doug, the head trainer out for a few games for family obligations. Fun fact, she’s one of the few female athletic trainers in the NHL. Fantastic at her job and an incredible person as well.”

“Another fun fact to those who may not know, Christina and Svechnikov are engaged, getting married sometime next year. And that’s a beautiful Canes love story if I’ve ever heard one.”

“I can imagine it isn’t easy to have to see your fiance go down like that, even if it is a part of her job. They’re both heading down the tunnel now, so we’ll see if he comes back out for the third period. Hopefully he’s okay.”

She locks her phone. It’s been known to the general public that Andrei is engaged. He had posted on Instagram when he proposed. But it had been a silhouette shot and he hadn’t tagged her out of respect for their privacy. Christina’s Instagram is private too, so very few people they don’t personally know had put it together.

Until now, that is.

“You saw it too?” Andrei says, coming out of the bathroom.

“Yeah. A bunch of people sent it to me.”

“And?”

“They didn’t say anything that wasn’t true. What do you think?”

He slides under the covers and kisses her forehead tenderly, “I love being known as your fiance. I’d ask you everyday to marry me if I could.”

“Sap.” She feels him laugh as she leans her head on his chest, drawing circles on his bare skin. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“I’m always gonna be okay. I have you.”

She kisses his lips before yawning, and he reaches over to shut off the lamp.

(When Christina goes into work the next morning, Taylor’s waiting for her in her office. With no greeting, they set their laptop down and press play on a video. It’s a compilation of her and Andrei’s little pre-game ritual they had started a few months after they started dating.

It’s Andrei, usually in his game day suit, and her in the hallway of whatever arena they’re in. He grabs both her hands and kisses her three times. Twice on the lips. Once on her forehead. She always adjusts his collar even if it doesn’t need to be adjusted, and then they’re both off to their separate ways.

Christina had no idea Taylor had been filming this. For years, apparently, if the description in the bottom right of the video indicates anything. 2024, 2025, 2026 and this year, 2027.

“I was gonna originally ask you if I could post it the day of your wedding,” Taylor says as the video ends. “But I also would never post it anywhere without you or Svech’s permission. I’m perfectly prepared to just keep this in the archives and never let it see the light of day.”

“You’ve been filming that all these years?”

Taylor smiles softly. “I have. The clip from last night is everywhere, with the broadcast talking about you two while you’re helping him on the ice. Twitter’s going crazy. And I was thinking, and no pressure at all, but I was thinking that we could post this today. Everyone always loves behind the scenes content, like Marty screaming Svech’s name. I have a feeling everyone’s gonna love this little ritual too.”

The video has been replaying automatically and Christina can’t help but smile. “Okay.”

“For real?”

“Yeah. If you think it’s a good move, I trust you. You’re the social expert.”

“Well, perfect,” they grin. “I’ll catch Svech when he comes in to ask for his permission too.”

Christina snorts. “He’s not gonna say no, I can promise that.”

He doesn’t. Taylor posts the video three hours later. The internet goes nuts. Andrei surprises her with dinner when she gets home after him, two plates of delicious-looking pasta on the table with a candle lit and a vase of fresh flowers. But the most beautiful sight is his dimpled smile.

She kisses him. Hard. It feels like the first time again.)

~*~*~

tag list: @ru-kru, @bunbunbl0gs (lmk if you wanna be added!!)

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paigebueckersmommy · 4 months ago

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somewhere only we know - c.h

caroline harvey x fem!reader blurb

warnings- nothing just really bad fluff cuz i suck at writing it

a/n: i gave up with the banner and trying to make it look better 😭 anywho send more kk requests the earth is lacking with kk fics anywho i iterally hate this

you were sitting on your couch, not doing much of anything, you phone starts ringing, it’s kk.

you answer her, “hiii baby” kk says over the phone, sounding excited. “hiii kk, you sound excited?”

“uh yeah- do you think you can be ready for me to pick you up in a couple minutes?” kk says, you immediately sit up, knowing you were in sweats and looked pretty rough,

“uh- y-yeah? where are we going sweetheart?” you asked her, “it’s a suprise, nothing fancy. i’ll see you soon ma.” kk said before hanging up.

a couple minutes later kk texts you, “here baby” and you walk down, seeing kks car in the parking lot. she opens your door for you, “hiii pretty girl,” she says with a smile opening your door.

she kisses you softly when you sit down in the car before going to the drivers side. she got situated in her seat with a smile. “how far is the suprise kk?” you say looking at her,

“just 15 minutes, it’s in a town a couple minutes from here, poynette i think.” kk said as she started driving from the campus of your college.

as she said, about 15 minutes later you arrived at a building, and kk parked. “what is this place?” you said confused, it looked almost like a church.

“you’ll see, ma.” she said before coming to open your door, and holding your hand as she took you down a few steps on the side of the building, a gazebo and a lake with greenery surrounding, the sunset behind the lake complimenting it.

“this is beautiful kk.” you say taking in the view. “how’d you find out about this place?”

“i came here a few months ago, before we started dating, for a banquet i think. this t place is used for all types of things.” she said as you two walked closer to the lake, when you two reached the small gazebo, you two sat on a bench in it.

you two sat in silence for a few minutes, until you put your head on her shoulder, she broke the silence. “i love you sweetheart.”

“i love you too.” you say before a couple minutes pass by and your be real notification going off, perfect timing. kk saw and brought her hand from your shoulder to your face, pressing your faces together and the other side showing the sunset.

“i love how excited you get over those.” kk said as you hit send, smiling.

#kk harvey #kk harvey x reader #ncaa hockey #uw madison #wlw fiction #lesbian #caroline harvey #caroline harvey fluff

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poithead51 · 29 days ago

Text

why do you hate media so much?

matt poitras x fem!socialteam!reader

hi y’all this is my first EVER fic so please be nice as i’m starting this new journey. just a lil story based off of a dream i had LMAO

word count: 2.7k

warnings: none, some cursing. just some good old pining with our mp51. reader is 21!

“This is where your office will be for the time being. Why don't you put your things down and get comfortable, and l'll come get you in a few. I'll take you to meet Don, Cam, Jim, and the boys."

She nodded and smiled at her new boss, putting her bag down on the chair of her new, albeit small, office. It was probably 10×10ft, but it overlooked the city of Boston in the way she'd always dreamed of. She finally made it - got a position working in media for her childhood, hometown team - the Boston Bruins.

As she paced around the room, all she could do was smile to herself, anxiously awaiting her boss, Angelica, to come retrieve her so she could meet the team.

Boston born and raised, she had always been a hockey fan - specifically a Bruins fan. Brad Marchand's name and jersey number were her laptop password far before he wore the C' on his chest. Jack Edwards' voice was both familiar and nostalgic, as it echoed around her childhood home in the fall, with family crowded up around the TV set watching their B's.

"Y/N, are you ready?" Angelica's voice broke her away from her memories. She grinned as Angelica motioned for her to follow down out of her office and into the Garden. She looked around in disbelief - all of her hard work truly paid off to get here, especially at only 21 years old.

"Unfortunately, Mr. Sweeney and Mr. Neely are in an important meeting at the moment. l've made them aware that you are here and ready to start working. We'll go meet Monty and the team now, if that's alright. You can get right on with your first task, the hometown video I mentioned. That's a short and easy one that they'll love to do, and it'll help them get to know you and vice versa. Alright?" Angelica smiled.

"Sounds great." she replied kindly, trailing behind Angelica slowly, as she glanced around the path on the way to the locker room. Her hands started to sweat as they got closer to the door, knowing that Brad Marchand was back there. The other guys too, but mostly Brad.

Angelica knocked on the door before turning to her new hire. *Here goes nothing!" she smiled.

Montgomery comes to the door, a small grin lacing his normally stern face. Angelica speaks again. "This is Y/N, our newest media hire. She hails from Boston University. She gestures to her side proudly, as Y/N offers her hand for Monty to shake. "Mind if we come in and get her started?"

Montgomery laughs. “Sure thing. God knows they're tired of me laying into 'em." He holds the door open for the ladies and clears his throat.

"Gentlemen, we have visitors." His voice booms through the space as he leads the media team to the space the team is sitting.

Y/N glances around. Holy shit. That's him. That's Brad Marchand. And Charlie McAvoy. And David Pastrnak. And Charlie Coyle.

She pinches her own hand to remind herself that this is real life.

Angelica clears her throat to speak. “Hi everyone!You all know me, from the marketing and media team. I wanted to introduce to you our newest member of the media group, who will be working closely with you all as a creator for our social accounts and website. Please give Y/N a warm Bruins welcome."

The team smiles, claps, and Carlo lets out a whoop. Of course he did, she thinks to herself, recalling all of the silly videos of Brandon she's seen over the years on the Bruins pages.

Angelica gestures silently over to her new hire, prompting her to introduce herself. "Hi guys, my name is Y/N and I am so excited to be here. I'm a hometown fan hailing from BU," she is interrupted by a whoop now from McAvoy.

She laughs before continuing. “I'm 21, and just finished my degree in digital marketing a year early. I'II be around you all for the time being creating content for our pages like Angelica said, and I'm really looking forward to getting to know you all. Especially you, Marchy!" she giggles, as laughs, cheers, and boos are heard around the room.

Out of the corner of her eye, she watches a slightly unfamiliar face shove Frederic's side with a puss on his face, as Freddy laughs at him. She narrowed her eyes. Who is that?

Monty notices her confusion and steps in. “Alright boys. Does anyone have any questions for Y/N before I let her take over to do her job, since half of you can't do yours?" He scoffs.

Trent starts to speak loudly, as the one next to him lowers his head. "Potsy wants to know-"

“I don't think Y/N, Angelica, or myself want to answer whatever question is going to follow that, Trent.” Monty interjects. “You're dismissed for the day. Practice at Warrior tomorrow at noon, optional skate at 10:30. Do the media and go home." He rolls his eyes, grabs his suit jacket and leaves the room with Angelica, who slips a thumbs up to her new hire.

The room goes silent, with everyone turning to look at their new media girl. She waves timidly before starting to speak. “Alright guys - just an easy one for me today, no hassle. All you have to do is tell me where you come from! What's your hometown. Bonus points for country, state, province, whatever." She smiles. "Anyone want to go first?"

Zadorov jumps out of his seat. "I've been waiting for something like this! I finally can explain my accent." he grumbles as laughs break out throughout the room.

"Alright!" she replies. *This is not mandatory this first go around, but I'd really love it if everyone would participate. I'd love to get to know you and vice versa. You ready Nikita?"

"She knows my name!!!" Zadorov exclaimed, met with cheers and gloves being thrown at him from various spots around the room as the team begins to clean up. As their new media girl turns to leave the room, she makes eye contact with the same player she watched shove Frederic not too long ago. She smiles at him kindly, and he quickly turns around and grabs his things.

She reads the back of his jersey.

51. Poitras.

Oh... The rookie. He's back from injured reserve, she presumes, trying to not read into how quickly he dodged her eye contact and smile.

For the next hour and a half or so, she learns Zadorov hails from Moscow, Swayman from Anchorage, Frederic from St. Louis, and Marchy from Halifax, Nova Scotia. She pretended she didn't know that one already.

She speaks one-on-one with the majority of the team, with the soft spoken folks like Zacha and Peeke slipping out after bidding her a goodbye and brief thank you.

51 never said anything.

She watched as Poitras, who's first name escaped her, waited for Lohrei and Frederic to be done with their quick interviews, and immediately ushered them out of the room upon completion.

No words spoken to the media girl or either of the players, just frantic hurrying out of the locker room.

The whole situation just seemed strange. She tried to rationalize her thoughts, acknowledging that this random rookie didn't know her, and had no reason to dislike her. Maybe he had something going on. A party or shoot to get to, a dinner reservation, or maybe just didn't feel well and wanted to go home and play Xbox or something.

It wasn't her fault. Not on day one.

By day 45, it definitely started to feel like her fault.

51, or Matt as she now knows, continued to dodge her constantly - around the office, around the rink, even on his way in and out of the locker rooms. Matt had not done content for media in her entire month and a half long duration with the Bruins. It started to feel personal.

Luckily, she had finally found a rapport with the majority of the team. Marchy, her childhood favorite, became a confidant, always wanting to partake in anything to give him attention. She got a few lip sync videos out of him. Zadorov another she grew close to. But unshockingly, no one came close to touching her relationship with Brandon Carlo. Though truly not that much her senior, Brandon became an older brother figure to her, frequently partaking in her content, chatting with her, and inviting her out with him, his wife Mayson, and their kids.

She had grown so fond of her Bruins family, and it showed in her content. Her silly interviews had started to do numbers on Instagram and TikTok. The Bruins presence on social media skyrocketed, and she began to receive tasks from her bosses to include as many players as possible.

Her newest task? Intro to the new guys.

Of fucking course.

She started with Lohrei. He was the easiest - just wanted to do what he knew he had to and get back to the ice. She liked that about him. Being the same age, they had a similar respect for each other. And sent each other TikToks on occasion.

After Beecher, Koepke, Jones, Zadi, and Lindy #2, Kastelic was next - though not new to the league, only the B's. Though she knew he was from Arizona and is a former Ottawa Senator, she learned Kasty is an NHL nepo baby.

“Y/N... You can't start calling me nepo baby.. it's not like l'm a Tkachuk." Mark rolled his eyes, the girl laughing in response, clutching her abdomen.

"Kasty, as far as l'm concerned, you might as well be the lost third brother. You're just as much of a rat!"

"Oh... That's low..." he cackled.

"Whatever. Get outta here, and send the next guy in!" she called.

"Will do!" Kasty replied diligently, turning on his heels to go out into the hall. She knew Matt was next. He was the only new guy' left. Being a fan favorite, she knew he needed to be in this video series.

What is taking so long??

She crossed her arms and tapped her feet anxiously, waiting for Poitras to come into the interview room.

“Dude, you actually need to grow up. This is part of the job." She hears Mark's voice through the wall. Her stomach sinks. Is he talking to Matt?

She approaches the door, leaning her ear up against it. "Do you really think this does you any favors? You're such a kid. This isn't the minors, Matt." Kasty's voice booms nastily.

She feels the tears well up in her eyes. She had the feeling that Matt didn't like her, but to fight with a teammate over having to be in an interview video? Was she really that bad at her job?

She walks away from the wall when she hears scrambling on the other side. She wipes her tears as Mark comes back into the room, the one and only Matt Poitras trailing behind him. Kastelic rolls his eyes. "Matt hates media, sorry. He needs to be out as soon as possible or he'll start to freak out." Mark leaves, slamming the door behind him.

Matt sighs, running his hand through his hair.

"Sorry, Y/N. Can we just get this over with?" he says, uneasiness audible in his voice.

She takes a deep breath as she turns her camera back on. "Sure thing, Matt. Why don't you tell me a little about your life growing up?"

A few days later, she aggressively flops down onto the carlo family couch. "Brandon, I have a genuine question."

Brandon cocks his eyebrow, bringing dinner over to Y/N and Mayson. "This can't be good." he chuckles.

She throws her arms up exasperatedly. "This is not a joke! I need answers.” Brandon ushers her on. “Is there a reason Poitras hates media so much?"

Brandon lets out the smallest giggle under his breath, making eyes at Mayson. The girl continues, solemnly. "Is it me? Did I do something?"

"Oh my god. No. You didn't. Open your eyes!" Brandon all but yells, not wanting to wake up the kids.

She furrows her brow. “Brandon. I've known you for just under two months and here I am, eating dinner on your couch with your family. Poitras won't do much as speak to me, and he avoids me and media at all costs. I don't know what I did to him." she feels her eyes start to water again.

Brandon sighs. “Dude, have you ever considered that you make him nervous?"

"What? He's a professional hockey player Brandon, that makes no sens-"

“Y/N, he has a crush on you. Since day one. It is slowly killing all of us." Mayson starts to giggle as Y/N's jaw drops, Brandon looking very proud of himself.

"What?"

"You have to say something to him. Please. For the rest of our sake. Monty almost killed him last week when he fucked up that drill in practice - he got distracted when he noticed you in the stands with the camera. If you don't say something to him soon, Monty's gonna send him to Providence!!" Brandon laughed, a lot less quiet this time. Mayson, also still laughing, shushed him between giggles.

Monday morning, she shows up to practice with her camera, an evil (Carlo) plan in her brain.

Up in the stands, she notices as she catches Matt's eye. She waves and smiles as he skates into Lohrei's back distractedly. Mason shoves him in response, laughing as he realizes he had been looking at the girl up in the stands.

When Monty calls practice, she heads down to the locker room, searching for Matt. She knocks, signifying her entrance into the room. she calls into the room. "Hey guys, it's Y/N. I need Potsy for an exclusive. Boss's orders." She smiles as she rounds the corner, her order met by whoops and wolf whistles.

Matt blushes, giving his team the stink eye as he approaches her. He starts quietly. “What is this for? They know I don't like doing media."

She gives him a soft smile. "It's a silly TikTok. Ranking snacks. You're a hot commodity, Matty, fans want to see you online!" He blushes again, grabbing his water bottle and following her out of the locker room.

They hear a faint "GET IT!" from Pastrnak as the door closes.

Matt sits down in the interview space, accepting her phone with TikTok open on it.

"Loosen up, it's just a video. Everyone loves you - they want to see you be silly" She smiles.

He blind ranks the snacks, frustratedly putting cheetos above protein bars after he didn't plan accordingly. He grins timidly as he gives the phone back to her. He pushes his chair back, and starts to get up to leave. “I hope that was enough. I gotta g-”

“Matt, wait." She gently grabs his arm. "Sit back down for a second. I have more questions!"

His face heats up as he sits back down. "About what? I thought I already did my get to know you thing weeks ago." He rolls his eyes unconvincingly.

She giggles in reply. "They're questions from me.”

"Of course they are, you're the media girl. I don't understand."

"No. This is Y/N asking Matt a question. Not the media girl asking the rookie." She smirks. "I just want to know - why do you hate media so much?Did I do something? You did fine when it was Angelica."

Matt sighs. "It's nothing personal, Y/N. I just get nervous."

She smirks again. "Matt, I know it's personal.”

Sighing louder this time, Matt speaks again. “Y/N, whatever Freddy or Kasty or whoever else told you is not true, I have nothing against yo-"

"Matt, I have a crush on you too."

Matt freezes. "What?"

“I know that's why you won't do media. Why do you think I keep asking you to do it anyway?"

"Boss's orders?" He smiles shyly.

"Something like that." She pulls a piece of paper out of her camera bag, scribbling digits onto it. "Here's my number, Pots. Don't lose it, okay?"

She gets up, turns on her heels, and opens the door back to the locker room.

"I'll call you!" He calls after her.

“I’m sure you will.”

hope u like it bruins gals :P accepting NON SMUT requests for rn

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ladylooch · 1 month ago

Text

Lexi's Most Difficult Patient - [Nico x Lexi]

A/N: Everyone say thank you to Jay (@missjomarch) for this because I told her the fate of this being posted today rested in her hands. But also it’s almost her birthday!!!!!!!! Sooo happy early birthday to my little sister. I love you! Proud of you for all you’ve grown in this last year and cannot wait to see what is next for you!

Originally from this request.

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: injury- concussion, one mention of blood

The bright afternoon sun is a little confusing to Lexi Hischier as she hustles into the Prudential Center after her sister in law. Normally, she is used to coming into this arena as the sun is setting or already down, but today’s game is a matinee showdown with the Islanders. The girls drove to the game together, but arrived late due to unexpected traffic. Lexi has Lucie in her arms, her little legs bopping against her mom’s hip as her quick steps lead them down the ramp to the elevator.

It is ten more minutes before they are settled into their seats in the family section. Lexi and Emma wave to the other WAGS, then quickly focus their attention to the game.

“Bah!” Lucie points and howls down at the ice.

“Is daddy out?” Lexi wonders, pressing her lips into Lucie’s brown hair. Her green eyes scan the ice and she smiles when she sees her husband, hustling forward with the puck.

He looks good today. Nico oozes focus, dialed in to the task at hand despite the earlier game time and lack of a pre-game nap. Lexi isn’t surprised. He had an extra pep in his step this morning when he kissed his girls goodbye.

“Nico looks good.” Emma murmurs, clapping around Lio in her lap at Nico’s shot attempt.

“Mhm.” Lexi responds, chewing on her minty gum in anticipation of the next puck drop.

Things quickly take a sour turn for the Devils after the ten minute mark of the 1st period. What started off as a fast pace game, quickly turned sluggish and frustrating as they began an undisciplined march to the penalty box. Nico spends more time killing penalties than attacking the net and his annoyance is evident as he flips his stick against the boards at the period intermission.

“Is it too early to drink?” Emma jokes, leaning back in her seat. Lio turns around, asking for a snack. “Sure, bubba. Lex, do you two need anything?”

“Can you grab me some water?” Lexi asks politely. “Oh and a cookie if they have one.”

“Yes! I hope they have the ones from last game.” Emma grins. She stands up, taking Lio’s hand for their climb up the stairs.

Emma and Lio make it back just as the second period is starting with various treats, including the desired cookies. Lio carefully balances the unopened water bottle in his hands, then beams as he hands it to Lexi.

“Good job, Lee.” His aunt murmurs, then smooches his cheek as he giggles. “How is he so big?” She pouts at Emma.

“I don’t know.” Emma sighs. Lucie had been sitting in Emma’s seat while she was gone. Her aunt scoops her up, smooching at her cheek loudly. “Mwah! How are you so big too, sweet girl?” Lexi smiles, then crosses her legs, leaning forward in her seat as she claps.

“Come on, baby. Let’s get something going.”

The second period energy is anxious. Lexi spends a lot of it bitting her bottom lip with worry. Hockey is a physical game, but these hits seem on a different level. She closes her eyes as Nico is rocketed into the boards, making the plexiglass sway from the momentum. When she opens her eyes again, she feels immense relief that he is skating away with the play unscathed.

“Oof.” Emma mutters, holding Lucie tighter.

“Not loving it.” Lexi sighs, putting a hand over her mouth.

She watches as her husband goes into the opposite end corner, fighting hungrily for a puck with the Islanders defenseman. Suddenly, another Islander player comes in and obliterates Nico, bringing an elbow up to his face to follow through his check. Lexi gasps, shooting back in shock in her chair as Nico falls to the ice in obvious pain. Timo comes barreling in, grabbing the defenseman before shaking his gloves lose.

“Ugh! Timo!” Emma grumbles.

Lexi can’t worry about Timo right now. Her sole focus is on her husband who still has his face resting in his gloves. He lays flat on his chest, then slowly makes his way to his knees, face still buried. The trainer slides across the ice to him. Lexi can feel her chest moving up and down but she doesn’t really breathe. Not until he sits up on his knees. She can’t see his face from where she is, but he looks unsteady on his knees.

“Take it slow.” Lexi whispers. She brings her clasped hands up to her mouth.

Off to the side, the refs break up Timo and the Islanders defenseman. Timo skates off with a spring in his step towards the Devils locker room. It’s close to the end of the period and blood visibly drips off Timo’s knuckles onto the white surface.

When Nico finally stands up, Emma pats Lexi’s thigh encouragingly.

“That’s a good sign.”

Lexi nods absentmindedly, then runs an anxious hand through her hair. She looks up at the scoreboard, swallowing heavily as the seconds begin to tick down again. She pulls her phone out of her purse, keeping it in her hand for the next few minutes, waiting for a phone call to come through. Instead, it’s a text asking her to come downstairs to the training room.

“They want me to go down there.”

“Oh no.” Emma frowns. Usually, injured players stick around through the game and families meet up with them after the final buzzer. But that doesn’t seem to be the case for Nico right now. “Do you want me to keep her?” Emma asks about Lucie who is still content in her lap.

“No. I better grab all our stuff.” Lexi decides. She puts her purse back over her shoulders, then grabs the diaper bag before gathering up her daughter. “I’ll see you.” She murmurs to Emma.

“Text me what’s going on when you can.” Emma requests. Lexi nods.

With their daughter in hand, Lexi nervously heads down to the locker room. A team representative meets her at the elevator, then brings her back to the training room. Players flow in and out of the room, getting work done between periods. Timo and Nico are in beds next to each other. Timo’s knuckles are being tended to while Nico lays with a towel over his eyes, mostly undressed from his hockey gear, except for his undershorts.

“Hi baby.” Lexi quietly announces her presence.

“I can take, Luc.” Timo offers, grinning at his niece.

“No you can’t. You’re bleeding.” The trainer mutters to him. Lexi chuckles.

“Thanks, T. I got her. Thanks for sticking up for her dad out there too.”

“Gonna clock him again in the third.”

“No, you’re not.” Nico mutters. “Keep the team in the game.”

Lexi and Timo share a look, then she reaches for the towel to lift it from over her husband’s eyes.

“What’s the word?”

“Concussion.” He rolls his eyes. “I disagree.” Lexi’s eyebrows scrunch together.

“Why?”

“Because I’m fine.” He snaps, sitting up. He runs a frustrated hand through his hair. “The team needs me.” He glares beyond his wife to the team doctor who seems unfazed by Nico’s outburst.

A silent conversation goes between the two of them, like they have already had this conversation out loud and both are too irritated to get into it again in front of Nico’s wife. Lexi looks away from her husband to the team doctor.

“I’ll leave.” Timo murmurs, hopping off the table and lumbering back into the locker room.

“Nico sustained a concussion.” The doctor begins when it is just the three of them. “Testing shows cognitive decline. He is having sensitivity to light and sound. He also thinks I didn’t see him sneak Excedrin from the medicine cabinet, but I did.” Nico rolls his eyes again.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not.” The doctor says with finality. “Out for two weeks. We will monitor symptoms daily.” Nico scoffs, then throws the towel back down on his face, signaling he is done with this discussion.

“Did he lose consciousness?” Lexi asks hesitantly.

“No. Prognosis is good as long as he follows doctors orders.”

“Well, if he doesn’t want to follow those, he can follow the wife’s.” The team doctor chuckles.

“I like that. Get him home and resting. He’ll be okay.” The doctor encourages Lexi then exits the room to head back with the rest of the team towards the third period.

“Nico.” Lexi murmurs. “Let’s go home.”

When Nico doesn’t respond. She sets their daughter on his chest. Nico grins, peaking out from the towel at their daughter’s smiley face. The two Hischiers play peek-a-boo with the towel as Lucie’s infections giggles fill the room with happier energy.

“I’m sorry, babe.” He sighs after a few moments. “I’m just frustrated. The team needs me.”

“So does this team.” Lexi reminds him, biting her bottom lip worriedly at his unfocused gaze. He holds her gaze as best he can, then sighs.

“I’m gonna shower quick, then we can go home.” Lexi frowns deeper.

“I don’t want you to fall over in there. Just get you dressed. We can shower together when we get home.” Nico grins excitedly. “Not like that.” She clarifies immediately. Nico scoffs, handing over Lucie so he can stand up.

“Fuck.” He mutters as he hops off the table. He sways into Lexi, stumbling and needing to grab the table for further balance. “I tripped over my feet.” Nico insists at his wife’s worried look.

Lexi watches his retreating back to the locker room. Lucie whines in her arms.

“Shhh it’s okay, baby.” Lexi murmurs, cradling her daughter’s head to her mouth.

Nico doesn’t seem phased by Lexi’s worry.

Fine.

They can do this the hard way then.

- - -

“Babe.” Nico grumbles as she runs her fingers through his hair to wake him up. He has been sleeping for two hours and it’s time for another check in.

“Mr. Hischier. Please open your eyes.” She drawls at him. He pops a curious eyeball open at her, like maybe she will finally give in to his pleading for sex. “How are you feeling?”

“If I say bad, will you help make me feel better?” He mumbles to her. He bites his bottom lip smugly at his own proposition. “Cause my biggest issue is this.” He grabs her hand, putting it on his growing arousal.

“Mmm.” She mewls to him, squeezing him for a moment. Nico shudders. “I really did want to reward you for being such a good patient today, but you’ve sucked.” She grins at his stammering as she moves away from him.

“Wh-what? I’ve done everything you asked today!” He mutters. “This isn’t fair. Suck my dick, baby. Please. Please, Lex.” He practically howls at her.

“I saw you take the garbage out.” She says, opening up Nico’s iPad to the Notes application. Inside there is seven days of symptom checks from the last week since his injury.

“Am I seriously being punished for taking out the trash?” He gapes at her like she can’t be serious. “What’s next? I get points off for helping with Lucie’s bath time tonight?”

“Your instructions were to what?” He balks, rolling his eyes then wincing at the motion. He brings a hand up, rubbing at the left side of his forehead.

“Patient showing sings of headache on the left side.” She mumbles as she types.

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.” She says without looking up at him.

“It’s not from the concussion. It’s from my blue balls.”

Lexi giggles, a little snort coming out, which makes Nico laugh too. He groans, throwing his upper body into her lap exasperatedly.

“Not until you can get through the day headache free.” She reminds him, threading her fingers into his long hair. He pops up quickly, then closes one eye in discomfort.

“Maybe if we have sex I will have a headache free day.” He suggests.

“Okay, maybe tomorrow.” She pushes into his head with her pointer finger, forcing his head back down so he is laying in her lap.

“I miss you.” He sighs dramatically towards the apex of her thighs.

“You are going on the list of top 5 worst patients I have ever had. The newborns in the NICU listened better than you.” She teases him. He moves forward, digging his face into her belly button. Then he lifts her shirt, putting his mouth there and blowing a raspberry into her skin. She feels his teeth from his grin as her abdomen shakes with laughter. “Neeks, focus. What else are you experiencing?”

“Did you write down my blue balls?”

“No!” She explodes with laughter, holding his head to her stomach so he doesn’t shake too much.

“Um, I’m hungry for puss-“

“Enough.” Lexi says, putting a more professional tone into her voice. “This is serious. You could have longterm brain damage from this. We need to monitor what is happening to you.”

“Babe, I am fine.” He huffs, rolling out of her lap. “I have a headache, yeah. But it’s not like it was the first few days. I haven’t been dizzy.“ He shrugs. “I feel fine.”

“What about sensitivity? You seemed bothered by Lucie’s tears this morning.”

“Yeah because I hate when she cries.” He mumbles, crossing his arms over his chest.

Lexi looks over Nico for further evaluation. She leans forward, grabbing a wrist to check his pulse. Its strong and steady. She climbs onto his lap, looking into his eyes at his pupils and eye movement. He does seem to be doing better, but Lexi isn’t quite ready to release him back into the world. Sure, Nico has been hurt before, but this one is different. They are parents now, with more responsibilities than ever and the thought of what happens on the ice disrupting their family life has Lexi on edge.

She sighs, carding her fingers through both sides of his long, brown hair.

“You need a trim.” She mumbles.

“Oh is that on the approved list?” Nico wonders. His hands snake around her hips, pulling her into his body tighter. He lays his head on her breasts, nuzzling his nose and cheek into the right one.

“Yeah.” She says, closing her eye and placing her mouth in the part of his hair. Tears start to sting in her eyes as she clutches Nico to her chest. Her throat begins to tighten, making it difficult to breathe fully or swallow. She sucks her cheeks in, trying to fight the emotions back. She needs to be the strong one right now to get them through this.

“Your heart is pounding.” Nico mumbles, pulling back. She opens her eyes and watches as his brown eyes turn concerned and gooey at her tears. “Baby, I’m okay.” Her bottom lip trembles. Nico runs his hands up from her hips to her back, pressing her into his chest now. Lexi shudders on her next breath.

“I just can’t stomach you not getting better.”

“I know.” He whispers quietly. “But I am getting better. You’re getting me there, sweets.” He rakes his fingers through her hair, then trails them down her spine comfortingly. “I’ll be better. I promise.” His nose digs into her scalp. “What other questions do you have for me?”

“Is that all it takes for you to listen? Tears?” She tries to lighten the mood, wiping her fingers across her wet cheeks.

“Yeah. I hate when you cry too, babe. Makes me feel helpless and sick.”

“That’s how I feel when I see you laying on the ice like you were.” Nico is quiet, not knowing what he can say to make that better. He is going to get hit. Neither of them can prevent that.

Lexi presses her palm into the middle of his chest, needing to feel his heart beat. Nico’s hand comes over hers, rubbing over the tendons of her fingers as they sit quietly together.

“I love you.” Lexi tells him then pulls away. Nico smiles tenderly at her from below. His lips plumpen, asking her for a kiss. She eagerly obliges. Their tongues meld together, lips separating to let each other in. Before Lexi knows it, she is being lifted up as Nico stands. His hands eagerly grip her ass as he walks her down the hallway leading to their bedroom.

“Nico.”

“Shh. Let me love you, baby.”

Lexi melts at his words and needy tone.

When he asks like that, how can she say no?