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typical-simplelove · 2 months

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Third Time's the Charm (A. Svechnikov)

Author's Note: This is my submission for @wyattjohnston's 2024 Summer Fic exchange!! This is for @kurlyteuvo. So sorry that I didn't reach out as much to you and waited until the last day to post it; things have been crazy busy recently. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy this!!!

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: mostly proofread, but other than that, nothing that I can think of!!!

likes are appreciated, reblogs are better

Her friendship with Andrei started with a brief exchange in a coffee shop. Accidentally picking up her coffee order at the shop down the street from her apartment, he gave her a boyish grin, realizing it wasn’t his name on the cup.

“Same order, eh?” he let out with a chuckle, a silly smile overtaking his face as he handed her the coffee. “We both like our coffee as light as we can get without getting judged.”

“Something like that,” she replied, mesmerized by the twinkle in his eyes. With a few blinks and glances at this man, her periphery seemed to dim with Andrei glowing, almost as if he were stealing all the light in the coffee shop—no, the world.

“For you,” Andrei says, not losing his smile. He holds the cup out to her; her name rolling off his tongue easily, too easy, in her opinion. “I read your name off the cup.”

“I figured,” she answered, giving him an amused glance.

Andrei didn’t have the chance to respond to her as the barista called out his name. He grabbed his order, giving the barista a quick thank you before turning back to the initial conversation. “Exactly the same. You can inspect the label, if you don’t believe me.”

She let out a breathy laugh. “I believe you.”

“Andrei,” he says, right before breathing out your name. When he said her name, it was as if it took no effort. Well, saying a word here or there didn’t evoke much effort from the majority of people, but the way Andrei so easily said her name made something deep in her stomach come alive once again.

An aliveness she wasn’t in the mood to explore again.

“I’ll be seeing you,” he replied, his smile growing wider. Is that possible when it has already reached his eyes?

“See you,” she managed to get out at the last minute, but it sounded breathy as if she were flustered. Was she flustered? When was the last time someone had made her sound breathy and flustered? Using all these words makes her sound like a heroine in a Jane Austen or Charlotte Bronte novel.

Is that what she’s been reduced to? Is that what Andrei has reduced her to? A heroine from a Regency-era novel?

But then as she watched Andrei leave the coffee shop and walk past the window, he gave her a small wave, and then maybe it was okay that he made her feel confused but also empowered.

Over the next couple of weeks, she kept running into Andrei, but not just at that coffee shop. At the grocery store, at the bookstore, at the Target across town, at the park, everywhere she frequented, he happened to be there, too.

It was all random coincidences, but it made her feel ticklish and warm whenever she ran into him.

From these chance encounters, she learned about Andrei. He was from Russia, and he played professional hockey for the Carolina Hurricanes. He loved his family with his entire being, and he was an absolute ray of sunshine.

And, Andrei was single.

She wasn’t sure what to do with that information. Did he drop that information on purpose, or was it just something he said to say?

At this point, she wasn’t actively looking for a relationship. Actually, she was pretty sure she was doing everything she could not to be looking for a relationship. After things hadn’t gone her way in the past, she wasn’t ready to undo all the chains and locks and bridges and doors blocking her heart from anyone new.

So, she slowly put Andrei in the friend zone. That’s where he would remain, and if he had any qualms or issues with it, then that would be his problem. She wasn’t opening her heart up to anyone.

Even for stupidly handsome Andrei. Who always had a smile on his face. Who always seemed to emit sunshine to the point that everything outside the bubble he put between the two of them seemed to darken. Who always had something good to say and lived by the code, “If you have nothing nice to say, then don’t say anything at all.” Who always made her laugh to the point that her stomach muscles were getting a workout and were sore the next day.

Even for ridiculously hot Andrei.

One night, after he spent a lot of time at these chance encounters convincing her, they had sat down for dinner at one of her favorite diners, hoping for a lowkey setting to fully shove Andrei into the proverbial friend zone.

He sat across from her, however, a bright smile on his face, never wavering as he soaked in every word she said. She spoke about her family, work, education, and everything she could think of.

But nothing could deter the eager but endearing look on his face as he got to know her further.

“You seem to have a full life,” Andrei says in between bites of food.

“Very,” she agrees.

“Any romantic partners?” he asks, looking bashful at the prospect of asking her this question.

She shakes her head. “Not right now, but who knows what the future has in store?”

The minute the words left her mouth, she had no reason for why she said what she did. She went into this dinner fully ready to put Andrei in the friend zone, only wanting to be his friend (despite all his amazing qualities to be more than a friend). But she didn’t do that. She let Andrei believe that the chance for more was an ever-present thought.

Well, now she’s getting ahead of herself. She was making the assumption that he was into her, and for all she knew, he just wanted to be her friend, right?

This was what she decided to go with. Andrei wanted to be her friend, and assuming he wanted to be more than her friend was presumptuous.

That settled it, then, she wasn’t going to lead him on because she didn’t want more, and who’s to say what he wanted? She couldn’t read his mind.

However, as they said their goodbyes after finishing their evening together, promising to get together again soon, she couldn’t help the rosy warmth that spread through her body with their departure.

She wouldn’t admit it, even internally, but deep down (super deep down), she knew that if anyone could open up her heart and life, it would likely be Andrei.

There was something about him.

Maybe Andrei was preparing to take her heart off the shelf.

. . .

The local farmer’s market was one of her favorite places to spend her Saturday morning. Not only did they have amazing food and drinks vendors, but the assortment of flowers, crafts, clothes, and used-book vendors provided hours of entertainment and amusement that proceeded to spread into the week.

And now, she was going with Andrei.

Ever since that dinner at the diner, they’ve been texting non-stop. Throughout the day, Andrei was sneaking away from practice or training or media or whatever he had to do to text her back (not that she knew this), and she snuck her phone in between projects and meetings and phone calls and emails to text Andrei back, always giddy with excitement knowing she had an Andrei text to respond to and the anticipation of getting his response.

After the work day ended, they continued conversing with each other, but this time there were no interruptions. Even when Andrei was on a road trip and in a different time zone, he always managed to find an hour or two to text her uninterrupted.

That prioritization made her feel whimsical and flippant, but she chose to ignore what that could possibly mean.

One Thursday, he asked how she was spending her weekend. He had no games that weekend and wanted to try to make plans with her. He didn’t tell her this; it was his intention behind the text. It took him fifteen minutes of agonizing to feel ready and confident to send the text nearly took him out; his cardiologist wouldn’t be happy with the spike in blood pressure.

But he sent the text, and she responded, saying she was spending her morning at the farmer’s market.

She didn’t offer for Andrei to go with her, but he was trying to find a nonchalant and non-creepy way to ask if he could join her.

He didn’t have to stress about it, though, because she followed up the text with her plans with, “If you’re free, you could join me.”

And that was the in he needed.

He quickly typed out a reply, trying not to sound too eager, and said he’d be happy to join her.

And with that, they settled on plans to meet on the upcoming Saturday, and Andrei went to bed that night happy and excited about what that day would entail.

Standing by the marker point she mentioned in her text, Andrei was trying not to fidget. He had a few tote bags that he borrowed from a teammate’s wife in one hand, and his other was running up and down his shirt in an attempt to dry and wipe up the abundance of sweat forming.

He was taking small, collected breaths to try to calm down.

“Hey,” she said when she walked up to him, gently brushing his shoulder with her hand to alert him of her presence.

“Hi,” he answers, all his nerves floating away. “It’s really good to see you.”

“It’s really good to see you, too,” she answers, a bright smile beaming off her face. “Shall we head in?”

“Yes, of course.”

Andrei’s nerves might have floated away, but her nerves definitely didn’t. If anything, they started to blossom and flounder in a way she never thought possible.

When she asked Andrei to join her at the farmer’s market, she genuinely had no clue what she was doing. She planned on typing out a question, asking him what he was doing that weekend, but what ended up coming out was asking if he wanted to join her.

As each second of the day got closer to the moment when she was going to meet him, her nerves continued to grow and build. She thought that at this point it would boil over and she’d reach maximum anxiety and stress about meeting him, but it never did.

When she finally met up with him and saw him, the nerves didn’t plateau. Now, though, there were even more things to agonize and fear over.

Why did her friend make her this anxious and nervous? After all, he’s only a friend. A friend!!!!

She didn’t want to address the nature and cause of her nervousness. As far as she chose to admit, she was going to conduct the rest of the day as if her subconsciousness weren’t waging a war with her consciousness, trying to get a vital message out.

“Do you have a specific plan for today?” Andrei asks her, taking her out of her endless stream of never-ending thoughts.

“I tackle food first so that I get the best picks and nothing is picked over,” she replied, appreciating his question because it set her at ease (or was it him?).

“Sounds like a plan,” Andrei says, his natural and iconic wide smile overtaking his face.

For the next couple of hours, Andrei followed her around like a puppy, offering brief questions and commentary about the choices she made, questions ranging from what she was buying to why she was purchasing things to why she selected certain options. He was nervous that he overwhelming her with too many questions, but with every question he asked and answer she provided, her eyes would twinkle—as if they were in a perpetual sparkle, twinkling to make sure watchers noticed the shine in them—and a soft but bright lined her facial features.

This was when Andrei noticed just how beautiful she really was. He knew she was pretty; one would have to be legally blind to be unable to notice her beauty. At that farmer's market, however, that’s when he noticed that she wasn’t just pretty, but she was beautiful and stunning, a beauty that people fought wars over.

This has made the situation more complicated for Andrei. He could tell she was holding back from him, especially in a romantic way, but he didn’t want to push her. He, also, didn’t want to be obvious about how he felt or what he wanted down the line.

He needed something to distract him. Looking at her face was making it incredibly difficult not to pull her face towards him and kiss her.

“Flowers?” is what he forces out.

“I’m sorry?” she asked, befuddled by his response to her asking if he wanted coffee.

“May I buy you flowers?” he asks.

“Oh,” she answers, a different type of shock taking over her. “Um, yes, I’d like that a lot.”

Andrei nods, walking towards the flower stand. By the time he found her again, she was standing off to the side, her bags of produce and baked goods and the likes slung over her shoulder, two iced coffees in her hands. In his hands, he had five different bouquets of flowers; he didn’t know her favorite flower and panicked.

“For you,” he pushed out, almost like a grunt.

She stifled her laugh but her features still contorted. “And I got you coffee.”

He nods in thanks as they exchange coffee and flowers. She holds the various bouquets to her body as she thinks about how she wants to carry them around the rest of the market.

“Here,” Andrei says, opening up one of the bags he brought, allowing her to place the bouquets in the bag. “I panicked.”

“Huh?”

“The flowers. I panicked. I didn’t know your favorite flower.”

“Oh,” she answers, her stomach filled with flutters.

For the next few minutes, they walked in silence, briefly glancing at the various remaining vendors, too engrossed in their personal thoughts to pay much attention.

She finally breaks the silence, saying, “Baby’s breath.”

Now, it’s Andrei’s turn to be confused, and he follows up with a, “What?”

“My favorite flower. Baby’s breath. You know, for next time.”

He nods, smiling. “Understood.”

So, there would be a next time.

The prospect of it excited Andrei and made him reconsider everything he knew about life, love, and the universe.

Next time.

Crazy that those two words were enough to tilt his entire universe on its axis.

. . .

For some reason, there was an unspoken agreement between them that they wouldn’t hang out and meet at each other’s homes.

It didn’t make sense to Andrei. He always felt the most comfortable in his home or on the ice, and because she couldn’t be on the ice with him during practice or games, he wanted her in his home. However, whenever he brought it up, he seemed to deflect or work around the topic.

His home was his safe space, and he wanted to open it up to her.

He felt more comfortable at home.

He also felt that he could woo her and convince her to take a chance on him if he was as comfortable as possible.

Alas, it hasn’t happened, and it didn’t seem like it would happen.

For some reason, though, she agreed.

He didn’t think she’d agree, but he thought he’d try one more time, so he said, “We could have a movie night at my place.”

She responded as expected, replying, “Maybe, yeah.”

He, in his head, decided to let it go, but then he blurted out, for some reason, “I have jello.”

Her eyebrows, as expected, crinkled at his words. “Jello?”

“Yeah, jello,” he continues, needing to stick to whatever story his subconscious was forcing on him. “It’s your Ken job.”

Whenever Andrei went on a road trip, he asked for her movie, show, or book recs, and he’d pick one or two (depending on the length of the trip) to consume and discuss with her. One of her picks was last summer’s Barbie movie, and the discussion prompted what their Ken jobs would be. To be honest, Andrei had one of the most real-life Ken jobs in the world, but he managed to spit out his ideas.

Her idea was jello. “It’s always soothing to stir the mix with hot water and cold water, and to make the various layers is fun. Jello would be my Ken job,” she said when they met up for drinks one night.

“Are you going to make jello?” she asks, bringing Andrei’s mind back to the present.

“I can,” he prompts.

She nods. “This weekend work for you?”

“What?” He was shocked, now.

“For movies and jello, this weekend?”

And that was how Andrei finally convinced her to go to his home.

And all it took was jello.

Andrei was spiraling for the next couple of days leading up to their get-together. He had to make sure everything was perfect. If anything appeared to be amiss, he wasn’t sure he could convince her to come back. He needed this to go as perfectly as possible.

It was a must.

“You have a cute place,” she says after Andrei gives her the grand tour, hoping she noticed all the little decor changes he made to cater to her interests and the deep cleaning he did. “It screams you.”

“Thanks,” Andrei replies, ignoring the wave of warmth and emotion overtaking his body.

Oh, if she knew the power she held over him.

After the tour, Andrei told her to lounge on the couch and to relax as he grabbed the snacks and drinks.

“And jello?” she jokes, his favorite smile of hers gracing his face.

“And jello,” he agrees, matching her smile, his cheeks turning rosy.

When he came back to his living room, a tray of food in his hand, he noticed her holding her body, running her hands up and down her arms.

“Chilly?” he asks, concerned. He liked having his home a little cooler than the average individual may prefer. Internally, he’s smacking his head, wishing he had adjusted the thermostat to her preferred temperatures.

“A little, yeah.”

“I can change the temperature.”

She shook her head. “I can just use a blanket or something.”

“Will a sweatshirt work?” he asks, running through his head the clean sweatshirts he has in his closet.

“I think so, yeah.”

“Let me grab you one,” Andrei lets you know, heading to his bedroom to grab a sweatshirt. He knows he has a clean (ish) one sitting on his bed. He doesn’t think about the insignia or the labels on the sweatshirt. The color doesn’t even strike him. It isn’t until she puts it on that he realizes just what he’s done.

Well, it isn’t that he’s done something; it’s just that he has given her a sweatshirt in Cane’s red with his name and his number on it.

Throughout the movie, Andrei tries his best not to think about how he feels about her wearing his name, number, and colors along her back and shoulders, but he can’t.

He knows what it means and what it implies, but then he thinks about how firmly she’s placing him in the friend zone, and his heart shatters.

In this relationship, he’s playing the long game, hoping to slowly convince her how much he likes her, but he can’t control his heart and emotions as he glances at her every now and then in his sweatshirt.

At this point, Andrei doesn’t expect to or think he’s going to marry her, but all he can hear are wedding bells. The fact that he could be spending forever with someone who isn’t her.

Andrei watches her as she eats the jello he made, and he makes a silent vow.

He’s going to be patient, and he’s going to be kind. That’s his plan.

Hopefully, that’s enough to convince her that he’s worth it.

. . .

It had been a long day at work, every second dragging on. When the end of the day finally came, it felt like it couldn’t come fast enough.

All she wanted to do was go home, take a shower, and lounge on the couch all night until it was time for bed.

She had the intention of going home, but when she got to the street where turning right would lead her to her home and turning left would lead her to Andrei’s home, she turned left. It was an impulse decision, but she knew that it was the one thing she wanted.

He would make her feel better. Just seeing his face would make her feel better.

Since that movie night a few months ago, she’s started to become more open and willing maybe more with Andrei. She couldn’t deny it; she was hopelessly in love with him. But, she just didn’t know how to bring it up with him. For so long, she’s implied and pushed him into the friend zone, and she didn’t want to assume that he liked her. If she were put in the friend zone, she would do her best to get over said person, so she didn’t want to assume that Andrei had feelings for her.

But, she sure hoped he did.

She cast these thoughts to the side as she pulled into Andrei’s driveway. It was as if he knew she was showing up because, within seconds of her pulling into his driveway, he walked out of his front door, ready to pull her into his arms.

“Bad day?” he whispers into her hairline, holding her close to his chest.

“Kind of, yeah,” she whispers, feeling his heart beat against her cheek. “Okay if I hang out here for a little bit?”

“Of course. My home is always open to you.”

With his words, she pulls her head back to look up at him, a soft smile overtaking her face. He returns the smile, and within seconds, he takes her hand in his and leads her inside.

This wasn’t the first time that she had shown up unannounced to his home after a bad day at work, and he appeared to fully know her after-work routine as he led her to his bathroom, giving her towels and clothes to shower and relax.

When she gets out of the shower, warm and comfortable in a pair of his sweats and hoodie, she finds him on the couch and instantly folds her body into his lap and arms. Without question, his arms wrap around her, holding her close and relishing in the warmth of her body.

It doesn’t take very long for her eyes to go heavy, and she tries her best to stay awake.

It’s always in her moments right before she falls asleep where she has her greatest realizations about Andrei.

As she starts to succumb to sleep in his arms, she thinks about her friendship with Andrei, just how much she loves him, and how safe he makes her feel.

When she finally closes her eyes, she makes the decision that she’s going to tell him the next morning just how much she loves him. She needs him to know, and if he doesn’t feel the same way, then she’ll figure it out.

But she needs to tell him.

And as he laces his hand into hers and kisses her temple, that’s when she realizes and knows that he’s been waiting for her, too.

He never lost faith in her.

And it will all turn out okay.

As she’s lying in his arms, she’s hoping and praying that third time’s the charm.

#andrei svechnikov #claudia writes #hockey #andrei svechnikov x reader #andrei svechnikov imagine #andrei svechnikov fic #hockey fic #hockey writing #hockey imagine #summer fic exchange 2k24

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thewintersoldierdisaster · 4 months

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I associate you with:

1. Some of my favorite Andrei fics

2. Quality reblogs

3. Being a super nice person

🤍🤍🤍 thank youuuu i try my best to be kind and give you guys really good writing!

#kurlyteuvo #asked and answered

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glittter-vamp · 5 days

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https://www.tumblr.com/glittter-vamp/762010416670982144/the-way-he-looked-up-when-he-said-the-why-does

Why is he allowed to do this to us 😭

He’s actually not, I have put a bounty on him. Y’all are in charge on finding him and bringing him forward to be punished in front of the audience 🙂‍↕️😂

#asks #funny mutuals #kurlyteuvo #joe burrow

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lovelyteuvo · 9 months

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Thank you! My username is a mix of Sean Kuraly (my first blonde nhl crush lol) and obvi Teuvo, my sweet marshmallow cheek boy.

ohh kuraly is definitely something and i don't blame you 🙃

and i will never call teuvo other thing than sweet marshmallow cheek boy bc this fits him so well lol

#lovely moots <3 #kurlyteuvo #teuvo teräväinen #sean kuraly

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wyattjohnston · 1 year

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I’m so excited to write for your fic exchange for the first time. I’m nervous, but I’m excited to write for someone.

Thank you for all the matching work you put into it.

I’m excited you signed up!! I love seeing new people join 🥰🥰🥰

Matches will start going out today (my time, so tomorrow US time), and I have to stagger them or I risk getting sent to the shadow realm again.

So anybody who sees anon messages flying around before they get a DM from me, do not stress!

#demi answers a question #kurlyteuvo #the summer fic exchange 2k23

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tonyspep · 8 months

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~*~big, big plans~*~

A/N: this is for the 24k winter fic exchange put together by the amazing @wyattjohnston I know this is a little late, and I'm so sorry. I've never written for Nico Hischier before, so I hope I do him justice for the great @kurlyteuvo. This doesn't take place during a specific season with the Devils as I know next to nothing about their lore. I hope you enjoy this and you've had a wonderful holiday season and have a great year this year. @fallinallincurls also helped me so much with this so shout out to her.

~*~big, big plans~*~

pairing: nico hischier x oc

summary: it's the holiday season and during the break, nico has some big, big plans on the little hawaiian island his girlfriend nadia's family has been spending the holidays since she was a little girl

rating: t

she don't know /i got some big, big plans

build a little house on some hand-me-down land

find a little island where we go to get tan

i bet we take our kids down there one day

and i know she wouldn't mind if i

did a little somethin' like find a flight

overnight to paradise and leave tonight

and i'ma put a diamond on her hand

“big, big plans” - by chris lane

Nico didn't expect to find love when he was drafted by the Devils. Honestly, he was just trying to hope he would get by with what little English he knew. Then he moved into the townhouse Hallsy recommended and he met his neighbor. Nadia turned his whole world upside down. He still remembers her wide deep brown eyes meeting his own and the cute little gasp that fell off her full strawberry pout when she realized who was standing in front of her.

She fixed her hair and babbled in the most adorable way, but her excited energy as she talked about how her family had owned season tickets to the Devils forever had him smiling. She rattled off his stats with ease and before he could say anything, she hugged him close and said softly, “Welcome to New Jersey, Nico,” and from that day on he couldn't get her out of his head.

That was six years ago. He still couldn't believe they had known each other that long. How when everything fell apart with her boyfriend, she had come to him, her beautiful brown eyes red rimmed with tears, her long dark hair piled atop her head. He comforted her and though he desperately wanted to tell her he had long fallen in love with her, he kept that secret close to his heart not wanting to take advantage when she was at her most vulnerable.

Everything changed during the pandemic. Though, her parents were close by, she stuck by his side as his family was a world away in Switzerland. She showed him how to use Zoom and surprised him by learning Swiss in additon to making way too much banana bread. She added chunks of chocolate just for him. He taught her his mother's famous Swiss food and one night, everything changed when she stood on her toes – in her kitchen – flour dusting her cheeks and smelling of vanilla and cinnamon, and she initated their first kiss.

It was everything he could have dreamed of and more. Her lips so soft and warm, her scent so beautiful and alluring, everything about her drawing him in deeper and deeper.

Now there she was at the Prudential Center cheering him on at every home game. Since she was a yoga instructor, the hours worked out perfectly for her to be able to come to nearly every game. Her parents – David and Savannah – welcomed him with open arms, which he was thankful for considering he had bought a beautiful ruby ring two months ago before both the Thompson and Hischier clans would be converging on the big island of Hawaii to spend the holidays together.

Vacationing in Hawaii to escap the harsh Jersey winters had been a tradition for Nadia's family since she was a little girl and the past two Christmases Nico had come along. Now, his family was coming. He could still hear his Mom's excited shouts in Swiss when he told her and his Dad of his plans of proposing. They had loved Nadia from the first moment they met. Welcoming her as if they had known her for years after their very first interaction.

“I can feel you staring,” Nadia as sweet as she was had a sharp tongue, and Nico could hear the teasing tone of her sweet voice. “I can enjoy the view,” He easy volleyed back, taking in her alluring shape as she finished packing her suitcase.

“What if I want you to do more than enjoy the view, huh?” Seeing her tongue wet her perfect pout had Nico groan low and deep in his throat.

Easily crossing the threshold of their bedroom, Nico had the petite brunette wrapped in his strong arms in seconds. Bending slightly as she stood on her tip toes, they kissed sweetly, their tongues tangling as her fingers found purchase in his thick hair while his roamed her back. Pulling away, they were breathing heavily and their eyes were full of love and heat. Nadia let one of her hands stay tangled in Nico's soft hair while the other trailed down his toned chest, feeling the muscles underneath his cotton t-shirt. He felt nothing but heat from her fingers.

Her soft sigh sent his blood rushing through his veins. “Can't wait to be on the beach with you,” Nadia mused. “Love seeing you get tan and how you can't keep your hands away from me. I packed the red bikini just for you, Neeks.”

“Nadi,” A desperate growl as she gave an impish smile promising nothing but trouble. “It's your favorite,” Her tone was dilberately innocent as she batted her lashes coquettishly. “How could I not bring it?”

They were talking too much Nico decided as he swept his girl up into another passionate kiss and laid her down on their bed, covering her petite body with his strong frame. They spent the rest of the night before they would leave for Hawaii in the morning, wrapped up in each other and with every kiss and every touch, every soft pant of his name, he knew more and more that Nadia was the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

He could see her walking to him on David's arm in the most beautiful white dress. Giving him a cheeky wink and sticking out her tongue to make him laugh – you're too serious, neeks loosen up, baby – and how he would stick his tongue back out at her. He could hear him say I do and her say the same words back. He could see them fixing up their spare room; painting it a sweet and sunny yellow with sage accents the perfect mix of boht of them as their little girl would be. He could see them bringing her to the same resort they would be staying at once they touched down in Hawaii. Watching her play in the sand and the surf giggling as he chased her and Nadia, cuddling with her, seeing her grow and learn and change.

Kissing Nadia's head as he listened to her breath while she was wrapped in his arms, Nico couldn't imagine a better life for himself.

He only hoped when he got down on one knee, Nadia would say yes.

The first night was spent unpacking and enjoying a traditonal luau as the two families toasted each other and the holiday season. Nico was sure he had never seen a more beautiful woman than Nadia under the tiki lamps and the pink and orange of the setting Hawaiian sun. Her beautiful green and teal maxi dress hugged her figure perfectly. Her eyes were bright with happiness, her laughter infectious, every little thing she did made him fall deeper and deeper and only made him more certain of what he was going to do.

Her father David sent him knowing looks and winked, and he couldn't help but flush. His Mom couldn't resist mentioning how beautiful the resort would be for a wedding and Nadia murmured in his ear, “I always thought so. I wouldn't mind getting married here,”

Their fingers were linked together and she had brought their intertwined hands to her lips when she said that, and Nico felt his heart skip several beats. He wouldn't mind getting married here. The sun setting behind them and making her look like an angel.

He finds his voice, kissing her softly and says, “Me neither,” the smile he receives back is absolutely blinding and he's more confident than ever she'll say yes.

Being a yoga instructor, Nadida is an early riser. Even on vacation, so to no one's surprise both she and Nico are up early the next morning. Nico can't resist his eyes shamelessly roaming over Nadia's beauitful body in her choice of a red two piece sports bra and leggings set. The red ribbon tied in her high ponytail makes her even more adorable to him.

He can feel Nadia's eyes on him. The sight of her biting her lip has the heat rising and he smiles as he wraps his arms around her, ready for their morning yoga session as she giggles and tries to wriggle free. He kisses her all over as he lifts her from her feet making her giggles grow louder as he laughs, his hands roam over her curves. They fall into the lush grass, a tangle of limbs before he manages to get her tiny body under his strong frame.

“You're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen,” His voice is husky and honest, making her shudder. “Neeks,” His nickname falling from Nadia's lips, makes him want her so much. Her deep brown eyes are shimmering in the morning light, making him love her even more.

He can feel the ring inside the pocket of his shorts and he knows this is the moment. The sun peeking through the palm trees, the birds chirping, the ocean lapping lazily against the sand and Nadia looking like a princess even her sports bra and leggings.

Caressing her cheek softly with his finger tips, he uses his other hand to reach into the pocket of his shorts and her little gasp is the cutest thing he's ever heard.

“Nico...” She whispers. “Shhh, Nadi,” Nico says softly. “There's only one thing I want you to say, but let me say what I have to first.”

“Okay,”

“I couldn't believe the most beautiful girl I had ever seen was so close when I had first moved to Newark after being drafted, that she was right across the hall from me. I never wanted any sadness to come to you and I hated that I was happy when Jason broke your heart because all I wanted was to have you for myself, but the thought of someone hurting of you, of you feeling any pain was something I never wanted. When you came to me, your beautiful eyes red rimmed, your tiny body shaking, all I wanted to do was hold you and do whatever I could to make you smile again...”

“And that's exactly what you did. You gave me everything I could ever want. You're my Prince Charming, Nico,”

“And you're my Princess, Nadia. So there's only one thing for Prince Charming and his Princess to do; to live happily ever after. Nadia Isabel Thompson, will you do me the utmost honor of becoming my wife and making me the happiest man in the world?”

Nico watched as Nadia's eyes went wide when he presented her with the gorgeous ruby ring. Her beautiful face was awash in pure happiness as tears filled her big beautiful chocolate eyes while she nodded and said in the sweetest voice, “Yes, yes! Yes, yes! Yes, Nico I'll marry you,”

Just as he slipped the ring onto her shaking ring finger, they heard the happy yells and cheers from their families as they ran from their respective bungalos on the resort, champagne in her Dad's hand and the other family members holding champagne flutes.

Hugs and kisses were exchanged. He shook hands with her Dad and Nico felt like he was floating. Nothing could be better than this.

Except for when Nadia was by his side when he was lifting the Cup and then when he was holding their beautiful little girl.

@nicohischier @nadia_yoga said yes!!!! #engaged #hawaiianholiday #merrychristmas

@nadia_yoga i said yes beaches!!!! #engaged #hawaiianholiday #merrychristmastome #merrychristmastous

@jackhughes way to go cap!!! congrats u crazy kids!!! gonna be so turnt for the wedding!!!

@dougieham i have the most incredible best man speech planned. vince vaughan and owen wilson ain't got nothing on me #shout #bestmandougieham

More and more comments flooded both Nico and Nadia's instagram pages as the day went on. After celebrating with their families, they spent the rest of the day wrapped up in each other as they showered each other with love more happy than they ever dreamed they could be.

As the sun set behind them, they danced on the beach, holding each other close. The waves and their heartbeats providing the music as they swayed softly together.

In this moment, they knew they were meant to be together and that their lives were just beginning, both of them imagining being right back here as husband and wife and then with their kids; a strong willed, funny girl with Nadia's big brown eyes and a sweet, soft spoken little boy who had the same smile as Nico.

all i am, i'll be

everything in this world

all that i'll ever need

is in your eyes

shining at me

when you smile /i can feel

all my passion unfolding

your hand brushes mine

and a thousand sensations

seduce me cause i

i do cherish you

for the rest of my life

you don't have to think twice

i will love you still

from the depths of my soul

it's beyond my control

i've waited so long to say this to you

if you're asking do i love you this much

i do

“i do (cherish you) – by 98 degrees

songs used “big, big plans” by chris lane and “i do (cherish you) by 98 degrees

#winter fic exchange 2k24 #nico hischier #new jersey devils #hockey rpf #fanfiction #nico hischer x oc

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laurenairay · 4 months

Text

rules: pick a song for each letter of your url and tag that many people (if you can)

Thanks for the tag @callsign-denmark ❤️

Lump - The Presidents of the United States of America

American Idiot - Green Day

Uma Thurman - Fall Out Boy

Ring of Fire - Johnny Cash

Emergency - Paramore

Numb - Linkin Park

All The Small Things - blink-182

I write sins not tragedies - Panic! At The Disco

Riot - Three Days Grace

Almost Easy - Avenged Sevenfold

You give love a bad name - Bon Jovi

@tippedbykreider @wyattjohnston @jostyriggslover96 @kurlyteuvo @starshine-hockey-girl

@2manytabsopen @lam-ila @tinyhockey @fallinallincurls @offside-the-lines

@cellythefloshie

#tag games

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hanaaishi · 2 months

Text

PAIRING: Matt Rempe x AFAB! Reader

WORD COUNT: 4.7K

SUMMARY: A surprise bar fight in Gramercy lands Matt Rempe in Bellevue with a head laceration. But a missing bangle allows you to share an experience of a lifetime with him.

WARNINGS: Bigotry, Harassment, Hospitals, Medical Treatment, Swearing, and Violence

I dedicate this story to @2manytabsopen as part of the 2K24 Summer Fic Exchange.

This is my first time writing for a non-binary, asexual person of color. I tried my best to incorporate that into the story while following the instructions you provided in the initial ask. As a result, if I messed up on anything, I am deeply sorry.

That being said, it was lovely to write for you. I had a lot of fun researching Desi culture for the story.

@wyattjohnston @kurlyteuvo @callsign-denmark @avengedearth

The fluorescent lights of the Bellevue emergency room burned overhead as you knelt between endless rows of medical supplies in the storeroom with an open package of disposable syringes at your feet. You scooped a handful and placed them into their labeled plastic container alongside the others lining the chrome-wire shelf. After unloading and breaking down the cardboard, your eyes shifted to the Apple watch around your wrist, which read 6:09 pm. Unpacking today's delivery of medical supplies pared only a single hour away from your twelve-hour night shift, causing an exasperated sigh to fall from your lips. You adjusted your navy blue watch band and rose to your feet to provide your knees with much-needed relief after kneeling upon the hospital's mosaic tile floor for an extended period. A smile appeared as you took a few steps back to review your work and admire your pristine organization before tucking the cardboard under your arm and touching the light switch.

As you entered the hallway, an adagio melody of soft chatters reached your ears. Your nose picked up the remnants of a disinfectant miasma as if the hospital came to life and unleashed a deluge of germicide upon itself like the Overlook Hotel from The Shining. You look deeper into the hallway to your left and into the waiting room on your right, waiting for a code to begin over the intercom and a flock of nurses rushing around the corner with a crash cart. But the announcement never came, causing you to blink at the colleagues meandering past with their files and patients. The hospital's serenity continued to hold against the chaos of the bustling Manhattan streets outside, a rarity in the most populated metropolis in the country.

You closed the door behind you, waiting for the light on the card reader to turn red, signifying that the storeroom had locked. Afterward, you joined the flow of hospital staff wandering through the department on your way to the emergency room’s hospital bay, where the maintenance staff stored the recycling for easy disposal. Several nurses, who must have received a slight lull while waiting for new patients or test results, mulled around the central station. They stood against the white quartz countertop, filling out paperwork or discussing their plans for their next day off with the RNs assigned to monitor the systems for that shift. The handful of invalids who visited the emergency room that evening lay interspersed upon the flimsy white mattresses lining the hospital’s beds with their eyes fixated on their phones or a book in their hands. In one or two stations, a fortunate soul conversed with one of the scheduled doctors, who explained their diagnoses and proceeding prognosis through gestures toward their tablets and illuminated X-rays. Their mouths moved in gentle whispers, preventing you from picking on their reason for visiting. However, based on their relaxed demeanor, you deduced it was for non-critical injuries, like broken bones and simple sutures, and other everyday ailments as you wandered further from the department’s core.

After several moments, the expansive black sliding doors where the EMTs unloaded patients from their ambulances came into view. The sight added an extra bounce in your step, driving you to the recycling room in desperation to trash your cardboard and join your fellow nurses at the station or perhaps grab a cup of mediocre coffee the hospital stocked in the break area from local grocers. However, before you could take your break, one of the boxes slipped from your grasp and clattered to the floor, causing you to stop. As you bent down to retrieve it, a chill began to rise on your spine as the sound echoed through the ambulance bay. The hospital was well-lit, and you could still see bits of your co-workers' pastel scrubs in the distance, but an eerie silence had permeated the air. In the city that never sleeps, you often had a faint cacophony of horns honking and emergency services sirens always accompanying you. But there was nothing like seeing the dark storm clouds before hearing the thunder.

Suddenly, indistinct red and blue shimmers appeared on the off-white walls, causing you to lift your head and turn your attention to the dancing lights. You slouched your shoulders and rolled your eyes at the illuminations as the ambiance of the distant siren struck up once more and confirmed the proximity of an emergency service vehicle. Despite your odds, an incessant mantra began in your head, pleading with the lights to disappear and the siren to fade into as the New York City Police Department or Fire Department passed on their way to an emergency. The Universe sadly appeared to ignore your invocation as the lights and sirens grew ever closer to Bellevue, and you grimaced upon realizing that it was the FDNY, but not for a blazing inferno threatening to burn down several city blocks.

“Fuck!” you said under your breath as you recognized the youthful visage of one of the EMTs who often brought patients to the hospital through the bay doors. You grabbed the cardboard and leaned it against the recycling room door, making a mental note to dispose of it later if maintenance didn’t remove it first. Turning to the door, you grabbed a pair of sterile gloves from a nearby box and rushed out to meet the team.

The EMT smiled as he saw you emerging into the cool spring air from the building. “Evening! I have an interesting one for you: Matt, 22, got into a bar fight at The Foundry a few blocks down in Gramercy. His vitals are stable, and the only noticeable injury is this laceration on his forehead.” He pointed to a patch of gauze on the patient’s face, anchored with two pieces of medical tape. “Apparently, there was a group of rowdy patrons there, and Matt and his friends intervened, causing one of the guys to launch a beer bottle at Matt’s head. He declined to press charges, so no visits from PD, and seems alert. He’s also not too thrilled about getting checked out at the hospital because he’s afraid some guy named Peter would kill him, but I told him it was protocol.”

“Hi, Matt. I’m one of the nurses who works in the emergency room here. It looks like you have a nice cut on your head. We’re going to get you checked out and make sure you don’t have any other hidden injuries. And then, we should get you out by the end of the night. How does that sound?” you explained, approaching the stretcher and placing a comforting hand on the guardrail.

Matt turned his head, acknowledging you with his honey-almond eyes. Your grip around the bed rail tightened, and you tilted your head to study his features better as you neared the bed. Given the fact that the wound wasn’t actively bleeding, it appeared prime facie that the wound was superficial and wouldn’t cause a lasting scar to maim his handsome face. He wore a tense smile on his uneven pink lips and under an adorable button nose while a few strands of his long chestnut hair framed his square jaw. Noticeable dried blood spots on his white button-up peeked out from his dark grey blazer, but it was nothing that some coffee grounds would be able to take out. He also possessed a delicate aroma of juniper, possibly from a cologne that he bought on Fifth Avenue, which tied his outfit together and gave him a gentlemanly appearance. Intrusive began storming your subconscious, compelling you to remark on his handsomeness. However, despite the persistent urge, you remained in place and offered Matt a warm smile, hoping it would ease his fears. He regarded your face for a moment more before reciprocating your tenderness and spreading his lips into a more genuine smile.

The paramedic exchanged puzzled looks with his technicians waiting to roll Matt into the emergency room, wondering why you two were staring at each other. After a few moments, he cleared his throat to break the intimate encounter. “Yeah, so, that’s the story. Can we head into the emergency room to get him some help?”

“Oh, yes, I’m so sorry,” you replied as your brain uncrossed its wires, allowing you to re-comprehend human speech. You stepped back and turned your head to the aging brick wall constructing the hospital, pretending to stare at something to avoid eye contact with the technicians as they entered the ambulance bay.

Once they had passed, you fixed your eyes on their backs as they rolled Matt through the doors. The intrusive thoughts finally gave up the fight, but the battle left more questions than answers. You have worked at Bellevue for several years and received outstanding reviews on your bedside manner and standard of care for your patients. But you had never established an infatuation with a patient before. Perhaps it was his handsome appearance or the story of Matt selflessly placing himself between a group of drunk guys that made him sound like a hero in a fable. Whatever the reason, you pursed your lips at the thought of having to get back to work as you stumbled into the emergency room with the paramedic in tow.

The technicians guided Matt over to a nearby station at your instruction and parked the stretcher near the bed, allowing Matt to climb in on his own volition. It took some work, but he maneuvered his long, robust limbs comfortably onto the sterile striped sheets. You gave the EMTs a polite nod and thanked them for their assistance as they packed up their supplies and headed back to the ambulance with the stretcher, allowing you to return your attention to Matt. You raised the bed’s angle, giving Matt more solace and a better angle to examine his injury. Once everything was in place, you placed a hand on Matt’s shoulder and grabbed ahold of one of the pieces of medical tape.

“Alright, let’s look at this injury of yours. You’re going to feel a bit of discomfort, but it will only last a few seconds. Okay?” you explained. Matt responded with a nod, permitting you to remove the tape. Slowly, the adhesive separated from his ivory skin as you peeled it back, causing Matt to form a slight wince. The gauze lifted, revealing a long but otherwise clean cut an inch above Matt’s left eyebrow. “Oh, that’s not that bad. It’s a neat, straight cut, and there doesn’t appear to be any glass fragments there, which means that getting you sutured up will be easy. You relax here while I go see which general surgeon we have on call tonight.”

“Thank you,” Matt replied in his gruff tenor voice, shifting in his bed as he prepared to wait.

You returned to the storeroom once more and retrieved a series of butterfly strips and a non-adhesive bandage to help close the wound while you waited for the surgeon. As you tended to his wound, your eyes caught glimpses of a video playing on Matt’s phone. The pendant lights fastened from old canning jars hanging around the bar created a cozy ambiance for enjoying a nice stout or a lager after a long day at work, but it did not provide enough lighting for filming. Nevertheless, you could make out the contours of Matt’s stern face as he glared at another bar patron, who resembled the stereotypical blond, old-money villain from a romantic comedy. In the shadows, a man’s arm grabbed Matt’s bicep and attempted to drag him away from his scowling opponent, but Matt’s goliath frame stood firm. A few moments passed before the assailant launched himself at Matt, pushing him against one of the lacquered wood high-tops and punching him in the face. Matt's fierce right hook was the last thing you saw before the videographer concluded the recording, and the screen went black. After the video finished, Matt’s long fingers navigated out of full-screen mode and through the never-ending sea of comments and reactions from fans on Twitter.

“You have a nice punch there. Are you a boxer?” you asked as you focused on straightening a butterfly strip.

Matt let out a chuckle as he continued scrolling. “No, more like a hockey player. Some of the guys and I were out enjoying a couple of drinks before all of them returned home for the off-season, and we overheard a bunch of pricks from some Ivy League school out east. They were harassing some girls across the bar. I have two older sisters. If they talked to one of them like that, those guys wouldn’t be in the back of a police car; they would be in the back of a hearse.”

“Where did the beer bottle come from?”

“One of the douchebags bonked me over the head when I wasn’t looking. I’m lucky I got off with nothing but a simple cut.”

“You can say that again. On behalf of all female kind, I just want to say thanks.”

Matt furrowed his brow as you reapplied more medical tape to finish the dressage. “Female-kind? Not womankind?”

“Yeah, I’m non-binary,�� you replied, grabbing wrappers and clicking the tape back into its case.

"Right on!” said Matt with a nod and his attention fixed on his Twitter feed.

You smiled and patted his shoulder as you rose from your stool and disposed of the wrappers in a nearby wastebasket. A warmth spread across your chest as you returned to the nurses' station to consult the on-call and see which number you needed to dial. You traced over each line until you saw the general surgeon’s name, a veteran with several years of experience in the hospital, and picked up the phone, tucking it between your shoulder and ear. In the several years you worked for New York City Health and Hospitals, you didn’t receive much hate for being a non-binary nurse. A few older patients would glare at you upon seeing the rose-colored button on your ID, informing them of your she/they pronouns. But they pursed their lips as you took their vitals, knowing that the wrong word would cause their bridge to healthcare to incinerate faster than the Great Fire of London. The others who accepted you often interrogated you on when you learned you were non-binary and what your thoughts were on the current political climate. While they were always well-intended, their line of questioning sometimes felt invasive. You weren’t participating in a pageant or running for city office, making your personal life irrelevant to their care. That is why Matt was such a breath of fresh air. He cared enough not to treat you like an oddity but didn’t overly care to the point that you became a fragile flower. He allowed you to be you without any regret.

A minute or two passed until a female voice belonging to the general surgeon came onto the line. You explained the situation and Matt’s status, prompting her to state she would be right down. The hospital stowed the surgeon's offices in another wing far from the emergency room, and it would take the doctor a few minutes to travel from her ivory tower. With little to keep you occupied, you returned to your stool in Matt’s station. The two of you conversed about anything you could devise — his hockey career, your nursing career, how he ended up in New York, how you found your way from Detroit. Eventually, the surgeon showed up and stitched together a nice line in his head before giving him instructions on proper wound care. The dissolving stitches would disappear over the next few weeks, but the hospital required Matt to return a week to ensure proper healing. Matt nodded at everything the surgeon said, causing a few more strands of hair to fall to his face. The surgeon’s voice faded to the back of your mind as you fiddled with your watch band once more, trying to ignore the melancholy weighing in your heart. Some of you wanted to see Matt and his aesthetic face again and listen to his charming cadence blather on about his summer. But he was a professional hockey player who had better things to do than visit one of the hundreds of nurses working in the Big Apple. He would likely visit the surgeon’s office through another entrance or even the Rangers’ physician. The possibility of seeing him again outside of one of the hospital’s entrances on your break did exist.

But would he remember you?

Unfortunately, despite your wishes, you never saw Matt again after that day. You rationalized that he must have slipped in and out to visit the surgeon on one of your days off. His presence left a bittersweet mark on your life, like a dent in a hockey rink, for you were glad you met him but sad he left so soon. But you had no time to dawdle on what could have been, for other patients required your attention. It was almost time for the City’s annual Desi Heritage Day, uniting the Indian, Pakistani, and Bangladeshi enclaves from around New York.

While reports of South Asians in the United States existed back to the 1700s, it wasn’t until the early 20th century that the Desi immigration began to increase. Today, New York City boasts one of the largest South Asian populations outside of California. It would only be befitting if the community celebrated their progress over the past 100 years. The Desi-American Association of New York obtains permission from the NYPD to block off a portion of Lexington Avenue at the heart of several Indian restaurants. They decorated the light poles and streets with colorful draping, flowers, and plastic folding tables lining the sidewalks, permeating the air with the delectable aroma of dishes from the local restaurants. You didn’t always receive a chance to visit the festival due to your work schedule, but you tried to get outside during your breaks to hear the dhols drumming in the distance.

This year, the hospital’s director of emergency medicine and human resources authorized you to have the day off to enjoy the festival after several previous tries. You immediately ran to your closet in your West Village loft and pulled out a gorgeous maroon kurta from the upper shelves amidst various clothes and sets of scrubs. It needed some cleaning and ironing from being stowed away for so long, but it was perfect for the occasion. The calf-length dress was solid in color, with two thin golden lines reaching from the shoulders down to the hemline. The tunic and the matching pants contrasted perfectly with the busyness of the dupatta, a long piece of chiffon with an aureate border and ornate flowers decorating the entity of the sheer fabric.

You made plans with a few friends to meet near 28th Street and put on your kurta, ready to enjoy some naan and biryani. But one thing was missing: a bangle your family gifted you before you left Michigan from New York. The only times you removed it were during showering and work. It always remained in a designated pocket in your bookbag, locked away in the nurses' lockers. But it disappeared without a trace over the past few days. You retraced your steps and searched high and low for any sign of it — your apartment, the hospital, and even the station where you treated Matt. However, there was no sign of it.

“Come on! Come on! You must be here somewhere!” you said as you lifted the pillows from your couch in the living area.

However, before you completed your quest, your phone rang an alarm, signifying it was time to gather your stuff and go. You hung your head and sighed, exasperated at your failure, before grabbing your phone off its charger in the kitchen and shoving it into a golden clutch. You also maneuvered a pair of crisscrossed chunky heals into place and draped the dupatta. After looking over your outfit again, you locked your unit door and went downstairs to the nearest subway station. It admittedly stung that you couldn’t find the bracelet, a treasured connection to your family and friends back home in the Midwest. But as the green line grew closer to the festivities, you remembered that the bangle could be replaced, but memories of celebrating your heritage with your friends could not. Outside the oblong subway windows, you caught glimpses of 28th Street Station’s tiled sign, causing you to rise from your plastic seat. The car stopped, allowing you and several other passengers to step out onto the musty underground. You followed the crowd through the exit turnstiles and the decrepit stairs toward the Manhattan streets. A familiar sound reverberated through the air as you returned above ground: the dhol with several other Desi instruments accompanying it. You followed the music until you came across a large gathering of Manhattanites and other New York residents of all ethnicities wandering through the blocked-off portions of the street. Women in delicate sarees and men in sleek jodhpuri suits mingled in the streets, catching up on lost time, while children did their best to draw mandalas with sidewalk chalk. The restaurants from the surrounding businesses help hand out sweet and savory Desi food to any souls who wander into the celebration, from butter chicken to jalebi.

“You look really nice today,” a man complimented behind you.

Your eyes grew wide upon recognizing that gruff tenor voice. A kaleidoscope of butterflies danced around your stomach as you mustered the courage to turn around to confirm the man’s identity. There was no chance it was an acquaintance or a co-worker from the hospital. It was Matt, and you knew it was Matt. Eventually, after several moments, you strengthened your resolve to turn your head around slowly. Matt met you with the warm smile he offered you as the FDNY rolled him into the ambulance bay. His laceration, which had long since lost its sutures, began to form a neat little line of scar tissue in his forehead. He had his hair brushed back, giving him adorable angel wings around the ears and wore a simple ensemble of a tan jacket and black jeans. Despite the casual attire, he still had a sense of suaveness as he shifted his tall frame around, waiting for you to break the awkward silence.

“Oh, thank you. It’s for the festival,” you replied, turning around to gesture and the frivolity behind you. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to return this,” said Matt as he dug out something from his pants pocket.

Your mouth fell open as he presented you with your lost bangle. You quickly grabbed it from his hands and spun it with your thumbs, searching for any scratches or scuffs under the light of the spring sun. But it was just as pristine and polished as the day it came out of the box. You shoved your hand through the middle of the bracelet, allowing it to gently slide down on your forearm near the three-quarter sleeves of your dress. “Where did you find it?” you asked after a few moments of silence.

“I saw it on the ground while I was leaving the hospital. It must have fallen out of your bag or something,” he replied.

“But why didn’t you return it to the nurse's station?”

“I held onto it because it seemed important, and I also wanted a reason to see you again. You seem like a cool person.”

“I appreciate that. But that also doesn’t explain how you knew I would be here.”

“Well, a famous office manager once quoted a famous hockey player in saying that you miss 100% of the shots that you don’t take. I remember you talking about a festival down the road, and this happened to be the only festival down the block from the hospital in the next few months, so I decided this was the best place to catch you, if any.”

You giggled at his reference and said, “It sounds like you went through a lot of trouble to get it back to me, and I appreciate it. This bracelet cost a pretty penny for my family, and it means a lot. So, thank you.”

“Of course, it’s not a problem. I hope to see you around. Have fun at your party,” Matt said, shoving his hands in his pockets and turning around to leave.

“Wait!” you cried out as you chased him, attempting to stop him before he became another face in the strangers walking up and down the sidewalks. He turned around and faced you upon hearing your exclamation, allowing you to catch up with his long gait. As you skidded to a halt before him, you continued, “You came all this way down to return my bracelet, so you might as well stay for the party. I know it seems overwhelming, but it’s actually a lot of fun and open to everyone. Think of it as a tiebreaker.”

“I do have to admit that it does look like a fun time. I was just under the impression I would be stepping on some toes by intruding,” he replied.

“Nonsense. You’re more than welcome here. Come on,” you protested before grabbing his hand and leading him towards the crowd.

It took some work, but you eventually found your friends mulling around your designated meeting area and introduced them to Matt. Their eyes widened as they watched you drag a rising defenseman from the New York Rangers over to them, but they quickly recovered and welcomed him into the group without complaint. As the sun climbed high into the sky, the lot of you led Matt around the streets, introducing him to other community members and showing him Desi cuisine. At first, you thought Matt might be nervous, being thrust into a world of new sounds and smells. But he took everything in stride as he slowly learned about the community’s history and customs. Even when he pronounced a word wrong, the two of you would share a laugh as you walked him through the word’s etymology. The same tingling sensation you felt at the hospital had returned as you watched Matt integrating himself into the culture. It had been a long season for the underrepresented demographics in the hockey community, leaving you a bit jaded over meeting stars like Matt. As the league says, business is business, and there seldom were any consequences for players who expressed maladaptive views. However, as you listened to Matt’s chuckle and how intently he listened to your heritage, you slowly began to believe that Matt could be one of the good ones.

The party went well into the afternoon until around dinner time when the Association determined it was time to pack everything up out of respect for the people who lived in Lennox Hill. You and Matt said goodbye to your friends before staying behind to assist the association volunteers in cleaning up from the celebration. Your hands gently guided a broom down the asphalt, pushing colorful flower petals into a pile, while Matt assisted in folding up the tables and loading them into the rental truck. The work went by relatively fast when you have a 6’8”, 240-lb man on the clock. Eventually, the attendees began to dwindle until you and Matt stood in the middle of the road. As you committed Matt's features to memory, a gentle breeze swayed your hair and dupatta.

“Thank you for such a wonderful time,” Matt eventually said, breaking the silence. “I definitely learned a lot.”

“It’s the least I could do after you return my bracelet.”

“I know you said this was a tiebreaker, but now I feel like I owe you again. Maybe I could leave you some tickets at will call when the season starts again. It would be my treat.”

“That sounds lovely. I think I’ll take you up on that offer in the fall,” you laughed. “I should probably get going. This kurta is beautiful, but I would prefer to change into something more comfortable.”

“Of course. If you don’t mind, may I escort you back to the subway,” replied Matt, offering you his elbow’s crook like a true gentleman.

You nodded and slinked your arm through the aperture he created. The two of you walked toward the Manhattan horizon, painted in soft hues of orange and yellow as the sun prepared to set, now friends brought together through the power of medicine.

#2k24 summer fic exchange #nhl #nhl hockey #nhl fic #new york rangers #matt rempe #matt rempe fic

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