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heartsandhischier · 17 days

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Offside Emotions

andrei svechnikov x female!reader

summary - 951 words. Andrei finds himself thinking, hoping that it was all real part 8 of The Pretend Play

author's note - This man... honestly. I can't get him out of my head

warnings - fluff just fluff

The rink, usually a place of roaring crowds and the sharp scrape of skates against the ice, was tonight transformed. As the Carolina Hurricanes hosted a special meet-and-greet skate, the air still cold enough to make breath visible, was infused with the warmth of laughter and chatter. The sounds of fans mingling with the team, the occasional clink of hockey sticks, and the gentle glide of skates created a symphony of human connection. The rink usually a place of competition and athleticism, had transformed into a vibrant hub of interaction. Around the arena, banners in vibrant red, white, and black fluttered from the stands, crafting an atmosphere of festive camaraderie rather than competition.

It was a stark contrast to the solitude of early morning practices or the focused tension of the game nights. Here, the barrier between player and fan, between the ice and the stands, seemed to dissolve.

Andrei observed as fans eagerly mingled with their hockey idols, capturing moments in photographs and basking in the glow of their presence. His teammates, usually seen in the heat of the game, were now sharing laughs and stories, their guards down, their faces lit up with genuine smiles as they mingled with fans.

And there, gliding across the ice with an elegance and grace that made her seem like she belonged there as much as any of the other players, were Y/N. Her laughter, bright and genuine, cut through the chill of the rink, drawing Andrei's gaze time and time again. She engaged with fans and teammates alike, her responses tinged with wit yet overflowing kindness.

Andrei, watching from a distance as he signed autographs and engaged in small talk, couldn't help but steal glances at her. The ease with which she navigated every interaction, the open affection in the eyes of his teammates when they spoke to her, and the way she seemed to glow amidst the cold, artificial lights of the rink.

"Vyglyadit tak, budto ona pokorila vseh, a" Pyotr nudged him, following his gaze. ("Looks like she's won everyone over, huh?")

Andrei's gaze lingered on her as she glided through the crowd. "Da, ona... ona zaamechatel'naya," he found himself responding, the warmth in his tone reflecting his genuine admiration. ("Yes, she's... she's wonderful.")

There was something about the way Y/N interacted with the crowd that captivated him. Her laughter, sincere and infectious, and her way of making each person feel seen, seemed to light up the chilly rink. He observed as she laughed at a fan's joke, her head thrown back revealing her beautiful smile, and then turned to offer an encouraging word to a shy child clutching a hockey stick almost as tall as herself. Each interaction seemed to leave a little sparkle in its wake, and Andrei couldn't help but feel a warmth spreading through him — a warmth that had little to do with the physical setting.

"Svechy, ty vitaesh v oblakah," Pyotr's voice pulled him back, the playful childing in Russian grounding him once more. ("Svechy, you're daydreaming,")

"Prosto smotryu," Andrei shot back, a defensive edge to his words, though his attention remained fixed on Y/N. ("Just looking,")

Y/N came over to him, her eyes sparkling with the excitement of the day. "Your fans are amazing, Andrei. And your team... they're just as wonderful off the ice as they are on it," she said, her voice carrying a note of genuine admiration.

Seeing her so animated, so utterly perfect in his eyes, Andrei was struck by a profound sense of longing. If only this wasn't just for show, the realisation hitting him with the force of a body check. The warmth of her presence, the sound of her laughter, the way she seemed to fit perfectly by his side — it all felt painfully right.

"You were incredible with them," Andrei said, his voice carrying a warmth he didn't attempt to disguise. "It's like you're part of the team already." Watching her interact with fans and teammates alike, Andrei realized she wasn't just fitting into the setting — she was fitting into his life.

Y/N smiled, a blush creeping up her cheeks. "Thanks, Svech. But I'm just following your lead," she replied, her use of the nickname so casual yet so intimate, it felt like a caress. The playful punch she landed on his arm didn't just break the tension; it shattered it, leaving Andrei with a sense of connection so profound.

Leaving the rink behind them, stepping out into the crisp night air, Andrei found the chill less harsh than it typically felt. His mind was awash with emotions, the clarity he had once possessed about their arrangement now clouded by a deep, burgeoning desire for authenticity. The echoes of her laughter, the mental image of her illuminated by the rink's artificial lights, her engaging interactions—it all painted a picture of a future he'd never before allowed himself to contemplate.

Y/N's hand found Andrei's with a grace and ease that took him by surprise. It was a gesture so fluid, so natural, it was as if all the barriers that had stood between them melted away in that single touch. The warmth from her hand seeped into his, a tangible connection that seemed to echo the warmth he felt whenever she was near, now manifesting physically between them.In that moment, with their fingers intertwined, Andrei felt a profound shift. Y/N, who had entered his life under the guise of pretense, had quietly, irrevocably woven herself into the fabric of his existence. She had become the person he envisioned by his side, not just in victory but in every aspect of life, if only their connection hadn't been a facade.

#andrei svechnikov fanfiction #andrei svechnikov fanfic #andrei svechnikov fic #andrei svechnikov x reader #andrei svechnikov imagine #andrei svechnikov x you #nhl fanfic #hockey fanfic #hockey fic #nhl fanfiction #carolina hurricanes fic #canes fanfiction #carolina hurricanes imagine #carolina hurricanes fanfic #canes fanfic #canes #as37 #andrei svechnikov x y/n

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heartsandhischier · 19 days

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Behind the Game Face

andrei svechnikov x female!reader

summary - 1.8k words. Perhaps Andrei isn't the only one hiding feelings of jealousy. part 7 of The Pretend Play

author's note - the grip this man has on me... that's all i can say

warnings - mentions of alcohol, reader getting a bit too drunk

In the pulsating heart of the club, where lights flickered like the rapid heartbeat of the night, Andrei and Y/N were adrift in a sea of sensory overload. Y/N, already feeling the effects of her earlier drinks, tried to maintain a facade of control as Andrei navigated them through the crowd, his presence a grounding force in the chaotic whirlwind of the club’s interior.

Their path was suddenly obstructed by a figure from Andrei’s past, a woman whose presence instantly changed the air around them.

“Look who we have here,” the woman, with her calculated smile and eyes that seemed to appraise everything they landed on, greeted Andrei with a familiarity that instantly set Y/N on edge. Her voice, sharp and clear amidst the cacophony, marked her territory without subtlety, her hand resting on Andrei's arm a silent claim that sparked a fierce irritation in Y/N.

“And you are?” her gaze shifted to Y/N, her voice dripping with disdain as if she was sizing up competition she'd already decided was beneath her.

“Elena, this is Y/N. Y/N, Elena,” Andrei's introduction was stiff, the tension palpable. Elena's examination was dismissive, her words laced with condescension. "Ah, the latest catch. How...quaint," she sneered, her dismissive glance a clear dismissal of Y/N's significance.

"Remember our time in Prague, Andrei? Those nights were unforgettable." Refocusing her attention on Andrei, Elena reminisced about a shared past in Prague, her words laden with innuendo, igniting a fierce blaze of jealousy within Y/N. The mention of intimate memories to which Y/N had no access felt like a deliberate provocation.

"Seems like some memories are better left forgotten," Y/N couldn't help but retort, her words sharper than intended, her filter dissolved by alcohol.

Elena's laughter grated on Y/N's nerves, her insinuation clear. "Oh, darling, you have no idea. Andrei here knows how to make a girl remember."

Y/N's discomfort grew with each passing moment, the combination of alcohol and jealousy clouding her judgment. Without a word, she turned, downing her drink and signaling the bartender for another. And another. As Elena's laughter echoed behind her, Y/N sought refuge and oblivion in the bottom of her glass, her emotions a whirlwind of hurt and resentment.

By the time Andrei realized Y/N had slipped away, she was on the dance floor, her movements unsteady, her laughter too loud. He excused himself from Elena's clinging presence, his concern for Y/N overshadowing any remnants of their earlier argument.

He found her surrounded by a crowd, the pulsating lights casting shadows over her face. "Y/N, what are you doing?" Andrei asked, reaching for her arm to steady her.

"Dancing, Andrei. What does it look like?" she slurred, her words slipping over each other.

"This isn't you. Let's get you out of here," he insisted, the scene before him a stark contrast to the Y/N he knew.

"Why? So you can go back to your precious Elena? Don't let me keep you," she shot back, her bitterness a clear.

“Let’s just leave,” he calmly suggested, she ripped her arm away from his grasp surprising him. “No I’m having fun,” she declared, though her swaying stance suggested otherwise.

“Y/N you’ve had too much to drink,”he said, bending slightly to place a comforting yet firm grip on her shoulders. “You know all about that don’t you?” she harshly remarked, her words cutting deep echoing the incident that put them here in the first place.

Andrei, with a firm but gentle grip, guided Y/N out of the club amidst her feeble attempts to break free, her movements sluggish and ineffective against his resolve. Retrieving their coats, he maneuvered them through the exit, her protests about the night being spoiled filling the air between them. As they stood outside, Y/N's stability wavered, her ability to remain upright compromised by her intoxication. Andrei, with a careful hand, supported her as they awaited a taxi, eventually helping her into the vehicle as he gave the driver the address to her apartment.

In the taxi, she slurriedly leaned against him, her head lolling onto his shoulder, he stiffened, unaccustomed to such closeness, yet found himself unable to pull away, his gaze fixed on the streetlights that danced across her features.

Standing outside her apartment she slurridely searched for her keys in her bag, “i can’t find them” she lamented repeatedly, her frustration mounting with each unsuccessful attempt. "Let me see," Andrei offered, his tone laced with barely concealed patience. Within moments, his hand emerged victorious, holding the elusive keys. Guiding her inside, the apartment bathed in the soft glow of the moonlight streaming through the windows.

As he gently ushered her towards the couch, Y/N's ramblings began to unfurl, a stream of consciousness fueled by alcohol and raw emotion. "I hate you. I hate how you… always with them. The women, always smiling at you. I hate it," she confessed, her words cutting through him with their unvarnished truth.

Her words stung, a raw confession of jealousy and need. He watched her, a tempest of confusion and longing brewing within him as he knelt to remove her shoes, his hands gentle.

The task of helping her into pajamas was met with a respectful distance, his heart a tumultuous sea as the soft fabric slipped through his fingers. "I don’t understand… why does it bother me so much? You’re just... You, and I’m… I hate feeling like this. Why do you hate me being nice to others?" she queried, her voice a mix of innocence and accusation that tugged at something deep within him. He paused, the weight of her gaze heavy upon him.

"Let’s not do this now, Y/N. You’re not yourself," Andrei replied, his voice gentle, yet firm, as he carefully removed her makeup, his touch on her skin a bittersweet blend of intimacy and restraint.

She looked at him, her eyes a stormy sea of confusion and longing, and in a moment of impulsive vulnerability, she reached for him, her kiss a mix of desperation and softness. It was a collision of every unspoken emotion between them, a confession of need and denial.

“Don’t go. Stay with me, please.”

Her plea, a whisper against his lips, was the thread that unraveled him. He knew this wasn’t the time for truths, for the daylight would bring clarity and possibly regret. Yet, her need tethered him to her side.

“I’ll stay… but not like this. You need rest.”

He settled her into bed, her fingers slipping from his as sleep claimed her. Retreating to the couch, he was enveloped by the night’s silence, her words echoing in the chasm between them.

As he lay there, staring at the ceiling, the events of the night replayed in his mind, each moment a stitch in the fabric of their evolving relationship. The tenderness he had shown, her confused confessions, the fleeting kiss—it all painted a picture far more complex than any fake relationship should entail.

He realized then, in the quiet before dawn, that his feelings for Y/N were no longer a matter of convenience or pretense. They were real, as real as the ache in his chest when she spoke of hate, and as undeniable as the pull he felt towards her even now, separated by mere walls and unspoken truths.

The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room where the hockey player lay on the couch, a thin blanket pulled over him. He stirred awake to an unfamiliar yet comforting aroma wafting through the air, the scent of brewing coffee mingling with something divine being cooked. For a moment, he forgot where he was, until the events of the previous night slowly pieced themselves back together in his mind.

Pushing himself off the couch, he stretched away the stiffness and followed the enticing smells to the kitchen. There he found Y/N moving around with an ease around the kitchen. She looked different in the morning light, her hair pulled back casually, a hint of vulnerability in her stance that he hadn’t noticed before.

“Good morning,” she greeted, her voice steady but carrying an undercurrent of last night’s vulnerability. “I figured the least I could do, after you took care of me, was to make breakfast.”

He offered a small, appreciative smile, accepting the peace offering. "Smells amazing," he remarked, settling at the kitchen island, his gaze lingering on her.

The kitchen became a quiet refuge from the previous night's turmoil, their silence a comfortable blanket wrapping around them, hinting at a mutual understanding that was slowly knitting together despite their attempts at maintaining distance.

At one point, Y/N scooped up a spoonful of the meal she weas preparing, offering him a taste. As she brought the spoon to his lips, she instinctively placed her other hand under his chin, catching any stray drops. It was a small, almost intimate act that seemed to bridge the distance between them, even if just for a moment.

The food was delicious, a testament to her skills and effort to make amends, but as they ate, the weight of last night's words hung heavily between them. Finally, Y/N broke the silence, her voice tinged with a mix of hope and resignation. “About last night... we can just forget it happened, right? Go back to being strictly professional?”

He paused, the taste of the breakfast turning bittersweet. Part of him wanted to dive into the conversation, to explore the truths that had been revealed in her moment of vulnerability. But the reality of their situation, the facade they had to maintain, loomed large. “Yeah,” he agreed reluctantly, “strictly professional.”

The agreement hung in the air, a mutual decision to bury their emerging feelings under the guise of professionalism. Yet, the care they had for each other, the glimpses of something deeper, couldn’t be entirely masked by their words. It was there in the way she had cooked for him, in the way he had cared for her the night before, and even now, in the shared looks that spoke volumes.

As they cleared the dishes, a silent acknowledgment passed between them, a recognition of the complex bond they were beginning to form. Despite their agreement to forget, it was clear that the events of the last night had irrevocably changed something between them, introducing a layer of care and affection that couldn’t be simply undone.

As he left her apartment that morning, the taste of her cooking lingering on his lips and the memory of her drunken confessions echoing in his mind, the hockey player couldn’t help but feel that their charade was evolving into something neither of them had anticipated or could easily dismiss.

#andrei svechnikov fanfiction #andrei svechnikov fanfic #andrei svechnikov fic #andrei svechnikov x reader #andrei svechnikov imagine #andrei svechnikov x y/n #andrei svechnikov x you #as37 #carolina hurricanes fic #canes fanfiction #carolina hurricanes imagine #carolina hurricanes fanfic #canes fanfic #nhl fanfic #hockey fanfic #hockey fic #nhl fanfiction #canes

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heartsandhischier · 19 days

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https://www.tumblr.com/heartsandhischier/747416514776498176/definitely-the-annoying-little-brother

omg that was so good!! part two would be so cool, maybe we see more lukes feelings because it’s obvious that he has feeling for her and john knows to? maybe he’s softer and sweet ?

omg thank you sm!!! and def! was thinking of doing the part 2 from his perspective !!!

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heartsandhischier · 20 days

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definitely the annoying little brother

luke hughes x female!reader, jack hughes x platonic!reader

summary - 5.2k words. living in an apartment with your best friend is great, but living in an apartment with your best friend and his brother... not so great

author's note - so... got a little carried away with this one, might write a part 2 idk yet but I love cocky Luke

warnings - mentions of alcohol, swearing, smut (first time writing so hopefully it isn't total shit)

When you moved to New Jersey you felt absolutely lost. Don't take it the wrong way, it was great – a prestigious college, a change of surroundings, and a fresh start. Your journey took an unexpected turn when you accidentally bumped into someone, quite literally bumping into him, drenching him in your freshly bought coffee. That someone was Jack, who had also just moved to New Jersey after being drafted to the New Jersey Devils. Like you, he was lost, navigating the unfamiliar terrain of a new beginning. Quickly you became best friends, helping each other with everything. You were there to cheer him on in the stands, and cheer him up during his rough rookie year, and he helped you out with your schoolwork, making sure you never felt alone in the stress of college life. You both shared a lot of laughs, late-night chats, and supported each other through thick and thin. And when you struggled to find a new apartment, he offered to let you stay in the guest room without hesitation. When weeks turned into months, you realized that living together clicked for both of you, turning what was meant to be a temporary arrangement into a lasting living situation.

When Luke was drafted, you were on the edge of the seat in the apartment, eyes glued to the screen in anticipation as the New Jersey Devils were about to announce their pick. The moment Luke’s name was called, you leapt up, a surge of joy overwhelming you. You were thrilled, not just for Luke, but because you knew how much this meant for Jack – having the chance to play alongside his brother, to improve and grow together on the ice. You watched the screen as Jack sprung from the couch, shaking with excitement. Jack had told you that if Luke was drafted to the Devils, he would move into the apartment. However, from the friendship you had with Jack, you could only be excited for the fun ahead with two goofy brothers.

But here you were, angrily banging on the shared bathroom door, “LUKE! Are you fucking kidding me, I’m gonna be late.” The reality of living with Luke was far from pleasant and fun. Luke was definitely the annoying brother of the three. Unlike Jack, who was always kind and considerate, Luke seemed to barely tolerate your presence, often making snide, witty comments, as if he wanted to fire you up.

The apartment had become a warzone, filled with incessant arguing, shouting, and tension thick enough to cut with a knife. In Jack’s absence, there was no one acting as the peacemaker, no one stopping the two of you. Luke was leaving the bathroom messy, his toiletries scattered, leaving dirty dishes in the sink, not even bothering to put them in the dishwasher, and taking your clothes out of the dryer leaving them in a pile on the floor so he could use the machine, he even went as far as to have a party the night before your midterm. You couldn’t help but feel like he was doing it on purpose, you knew he was raised well, with proper manners and common decency – cause you knew what Jack was like. You knew, you knew he was doing it on purpose, to get under your skin. And what bothered you most, was that it was working.

Luke finally unlocked the bathroom door, and as he swung it open, a cloud of steam escaped into the hallway. His hair was damp, a towel wrapped around his lower body, showcasing his muscles. “You don’t have to spend that long in the bathroom, especially when you end up looking like that,” you remarked sharply, your arms crossed.

“Like what? Incredibly handsome?” Luke retorted, a smug smirk playing on his lips.

“No, like shit,” you fired back without missing a beat.

“Well, you look pretty shit yourself. So you don’t really need to go to the bathroom before school anyways,” he chuckled, clearly pleased with his response. Frustrated, you rolled your eyes and pushed past him to move on with your day.

“Come on Y/N,” Jack whined, his voice dragging, practically on his knees as he begged. His team was heading out to celebrate their victory from the night before, and with your schedule finally clear after non-stop stress, Jack insisted on you joining them, arguing you deserved a break. But, his team included a certain someone – Luke. The idea of enduring hours into the night, subjected to Luke’s endless barbs and comments, now potentially amplified by alcohol, spelled nothing but trouble in your mind.

“I’ll put you on my tab, if you come,” he offered, hoping to entice you with the promise of a free night out. You couldn’t help but laugh at his desperation for you to join, “Come on, I know you guys rotate who keeps the tab,” you retorted, narrowing your eyes playfully at him, “And you were the one paying last time.”

“Please I’ll clean the bathroom the next three weeks,” he proposed.

“Four weeks.”

“Okay next four weeks. And I'll make you lunch for those weeks too,” he said, extending his hand in a peace offering.

“Deal. But I’ll skip on the lunch since you barely know how to cook broccoli.”

“Aren’t we going to wait for Luke?” you questioned, slipping into your boots, a hint of curiosity in your voice. Jack couldn’t help but chuckle at your question, giving himself a once-over in the mirror. “Suddenly become best friends with your ‘enemy’?” he teased. “Absolutely not,” you replied with a snort, “Just needed to know if I had to fight for us to sit in the back.”

The Uber drove into the bustling city of New York, skyscrapers rushing by in a blur. Luke had headed out early with Holtz and Mercer, leaving you to revel in the peaceful drive to the club, free from any of the usual bickering. The car was filled with laughter and lighthearted banter, both you and Jack bubbling with anticipation for the evening ahead.

A chime sounded as the elevator announced your arrival to the club’s level, and as the doors slid open, you were greeted by a stunning panoramic view of New York City. the vibrant lights and endless skyline stretched out before you, leaving you in awe. “Pretty sick, right?” Jack nudged you, his smirk infectious, clearly proud of the evening’s choice. The club’s interior buzzed with energy, packed with people moving rhythmically under the glow of shimmering lights. The music enveloped the space, so loud and deep that the bass seemed to vibrate through the very floor. Jack, with a reassuring grip, took your hand and guided you through the crowd, weaving towards the table where his teammates were gathered.

They all excitedly greeted the two of you, ushering for you both to join them at the table. You loved Jack’s teammates – they were just as kind and welcoming as him, making everyone feel included and part of the fun. They made you feel like a part of the team. And then there was Luke, he didn't even glance in your direction when you approached the table, too invested in a conversation with Timo to care – yeah sure.

As soon as you sat down, drinks were served – Jack with his usual beer, and for you, a Tom Collins, your all-time favorite. You couldn’t help but chuckle, Jack even went as far as to make sure you got your favorite drink.

After a few more drinks and hearty laughs, Jack pulled you out of your seat and onto the dance floor. The music took over as soon as you started moving, and you found yourself really enjoying the moment. Dancing there with Jack, you felt genuinely happy that you’d agreed to go out. And you forgot all about his annoying little brother.

Dancing, lost in the rhythm and the music, you realized your glass was empty. Sliding through the crowd, you made your way to the bar, navigating the sea of people all moving to the same beat. The bartenders moved with swift precision, a blur of activity as they tried to keep up with the endless stream of orders shouted by the eager club-goers.

Waiting to be served, you suddenly felt a hand wrap around your waist. Startled, you turned around, meeting the drunken gaze of a stranger. “What you getting beautiful?” He was undoubtedly handsome, but the whole ordeal made you somewhat uncomfortable. You tried to respond, but only managed to stumble out an incoherent answer.

He leaned in, his breath brushed your ear, the words “Why don’t I buy you a drink, and then we can continue the party at my place?” lingering in the air between you. The proposal sent an uncomfortable shiver down your spine, and not the good kind. You were caught off guard, unsure of how to escape the situation, all you managed in response was a sheepish smile, your mind racing for a way out. In a sudden move, he leaned in. You were frozen, unable to move away, you just tightly shut your eyes, bracing for impact. However, the kiss never landed. With your eyes still closed, the sounds of a scuffle broke through the music.

Then he leaned in closer, his breath fanning over your ear, “Why don’t I buy you a drink, and then we can continue the party at my place.” it sent a shiver down your spine, and not the good kind, you could only offer a sheepish smile. Then in the whiff of a moment he leaned in trying to give you a kiss. You were frozen, you couldn’t move away and just closed your eyes, bracing for impact. But the kiss never came, eyes still closed, you heard commotion.

“Back off. She’s not going anywhere with you.”

Opening your eyes, you found Luke standing between you and the stranger. He had pushed him, shielding you from his advances.

“You okay?” Luke asked as he lightly brushed your arm, his towering presence offering a sense of security. You looked up at him, slowly giving him a small nod. What the fuck just happened.

Without missing a beat, Luke turned to signal the bartender, “Two Tom Collins’, please.” The bartender acknowledged with a nod and swiftly got to work on the drinks.

As he handed you one of the glasses, Luke’s hand found its way to the small of your back, guiding you with a surprising gentleness toward the dance floor. The music, once again, wrapped around you, quickly making you forget all about the uncomfortable encounter at the bar.

You found yourself dancing close to Luke, you had never been this close to him before, ever. However, you found it somewhat comforting. He seemed to sense this shift too, his hand gently placed at your hips, his voice teasing, “Considering how much you complain about me hogging the bathroom, you seem pretty okay standing this close to me.”

The comment took you by surprise, a rush of warmth flooding to your cheeks. You were quick to retort, attempting to mask your fluster, “Blame that on the club being crowded. If our apartment was this packed, I’d have moved out by now.”

You felt weirdly comfortable in Luke’s presence now, and it seemed he noticed. “Considering how much you complain about me hogging the bathroom, you seem pretty okay standing this close to me.” it caught you off guard and you felt a warmth rush to your cheeks. You quickly shook it off, “Blame that the club is crowded. If our apartment was this packed, I'd have moved out by now.”

Luke smirked, leaning in closer than before, his breath tickling your ear as he whispered, “Or maybe you’ve just realized how much you actually enjoy my company. All these complaints might just be your way of asking for more attention.”

Caught in the unexpected closeness, you tried to maintain your composure. “Dream on, Luke. If I wanted more of your attention, I’d just lock myself in the bathroom with you,” you shot back.

“Yeah, wouldn’t you like that.” that damn smirk, you wish you could just wipe it off his face.

What. Was. Happening?

Confused and a bit flustered, you mustered up an excuse, before navigating through the lively crowd, towards Jack at the table.

“Enjoying yourself?” Jack’s voice pulled you back to reality, his tone playful as he nudged you gently.

“Fine,” you responded, rolling your eyes at the boy. “I’m having fun. But you didn’t have to make them order my favorite drink,” you laughed, giving in to his bright smile.

Jack joined in the laughter, but something in his response made it seem he was laughing at you, not with you. He tilted his head looking at you, genuinely puzzled. “I didn’t tell anyone to order your favorite drink.”

“Well, who’s in charge of the tab tonight?”

“Luke.”

The next few weeks, you tried your hardest to avoid Luke. The whole situation in the club… it was confusing, it was so unexpected but for some reason you didn’t mind the closeness that happened that night. But you couldn't face him. You even got up hours earlier than necessary to avoid the usual bathroom argument, waiting a few extra hours before class or work. It was tearing your sleep schedule apart, but it was for the best.

Your eyes were glued to the bright screen of your phone – 3AM. You let out a frustrated sigh, you couldn’t sleep. The room felt like an oven, the early arrival of summer in New Jersey wrapping your space in an unbearable warmth. Stress of upcoming exams layed heavy on your subconscious. And the thought of having to get up in two hours just to avoid Luke, didn’t help much either.

Defeated, you pushed yourself out of bed, sliding into your fluffy slippers. Glancing at your reflection in the mirror, you sighed, you looked a mess. Hair tied up in a messy bun, and Jack’s New Jersey Devils t-shirt hanging loosely around you. Whatever. At this ungodly hour, no one would see you anyways, and the boys probably have early morning practice.

Carefully, you pushed the door open, trying to minimize the telltale creak. With light steps, you tiptoed down the hallway, aiming for the kitchen. The gentle illumination from the counter lights greeted you, casting a soft, inviting glow over the room – Jack must’ve left it on. However, the comfort quickly turned to your dismay when you spotted the very person you’d tried so hard to avoid for weeks on end – Luke. His back was turned, curls messy, and a pair of pajama pants loosely hanging around his waist. His back muscles, his shoulders, all on display.

The sight of him triggered an immediate response – you knew you needed to get out of there before he noticed you. You turned your heel, your slippers betraying you with a sharp squeak against the floor.

“Going somewhere?”

You cleared your throat, gathering the courage to face him as you slowly turned around. There he was, casually leaning against the kitchen counter, a bowl of cereal cradled in his hands – his midnight snack. “Just needed some water. Didn’t realize I had company,” you managed to say, trying to sound nonchalant.

He let out a soft chuckle, the spoon in his bowl making lazy circles. “Can’t sleep either, huh? The kitchen’s open for all, y’know.” I mean he wasn’t wrong. Despite your efforts to maintain a distance, you did live together, and spaces like the kitchen were neutral ground, even at 3AM.

“Yeah, I… I guess I’ll just grab that water then.” navigating the awkward silence towering the room, you reached for a glass, making your way to the sink – coincidentally right beside where Luke was enjoying his cereal. His presence was towering over you as you filled the glass with water.

“You know, for two people who claim to dislike each other, we do end up in the same place a lot.” Luke observed with a smirk that you felt rather than saw.

You scoffed, attempting to maintain a facade of indifference. “We live in the same apartment Luke, and your brother is my best friend. Don’t get the wrong idea.”

“Well, you’re wearing my t-shirt, so don't blame me,” he countered.

You huffed, caught off guard. “This is Jack’s.”

He chuckled lightly, “I’ve been looking for it for weeks, thought I lost it. But now I know you just wanted to feel like you were sleeping next to me.”

You let out a scoff, annoyed, “In your dreams, asshole.”

He stepped closer, reducing the distance between you to mere inches. “Y’know, you could’ve just asked. I’d gladly let you sleep in bed with me,” he said, the smirk evident in his voice as he towered over you.

Your heart was racing, your voice caught in your throat at the sudden proximity. In a moment of panic, you retreated, mumbling an incoherent “I have to go,” as you hastily made your escape.

The usual calm and comfortable space of your apartment, was tonight transformed into a space buzzing with energy, laughter, and booze. It was Jack’s birthday, and as his best friend you were determined to throw him the best celebration possible – a surprise party. You pulled out all the stops, inviting friends, his teammates, and with the off-season granting a rare break, Trevor, Cole, and Alex were able to join the festivities. As you navigate the cluster of people, a glass nestled gently in your grasp, your gaze inadvertently landed on Luke. There he was, nestled in a corner of the room, deeply engrossed in conversation. By his side stood a girl whose laughter harmonized so seamlessly with his, it almost seemed choreographed.

A strange unease began to coil within you at the sight. There was Luke, entirely absorbed in dialogue with whoever this girl was, and something about it unsettled you deeply.

“Seems like Luke’s really hit it off huh,?” Trevor’s voice cut through the hum of the party, his tone playful yet pointed as he caught your fixed gaze and gave a teasing nudge.

“Yeah, looks like it,” you found yourself responding, striving for indifference even as you couldn’t tear your eyes away. You weren’t sure why, but the observation felt like it lodged itself in your chest.

Jack’s laughter soon joined in, bright and unaware of the subtle tension you felt. He slapped your shoulder genially, “Luke’s always been a charmer. Who’s the lucky lady this time?”

You attempted a noncommittal shrug, trying to shake off the knot forming inside. “No idea.”

“This is nice isn’t it,” Jack's voice cut through the comfortable hum of the city. The sun was shining, pouring its warmth over Jersey City, a gentle breeze complemented the heat perfectly.

The sun was shining, it was warm outside accompanied with a gentle comfortable breeze. It was a great day in Jersey city.

As you wandered through the city with Jack, it felt like old times, just the two of you. His excitement was contagious, sparking a lightness that you had been missing for too long.

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever. And we live together,” he joked playfully nudging you, but you could sense the underlying truth in his words – he genuinely missed these moments together.

And he was right; it had been a while. The efforts you’d put into avoiding Luke eventually affected Jack as well, as the two of them shared basically the same schedule. You didn’t want to tell him the truth, that you were avoiding luke and then possibly having to explain why.

“Yeah, I’ve missed this, it’s just that I've been drowning in school work lately.” It was a bad excuse, but it was the best and most realistic you could come up with.

Deciding to take advantage of the beautiful weather, you suggested heading to one of your favorite cafes. The idea of soaking up some sun while catching up seemed perfect. Once you found a spot in the outdoor seating area, you offered to go in and order for the two of you. By the time you returned with two coffees, the dynamic at your table had unexpectedly changed. Two additional figures were now seated beside Jack, their curls a dead giveaway – you recognised those curls anywhere. A sigh escaped your lips as Jack, beaming with enthusiasm, gestured towards them. “Hey, Y/N! Look who I found!” The two ‘curlyheads’ turned to face you, John and Luke greeting you with smiles, with Luke’s carrying his signature, teasing smirk.

Reluctantly, you settled into the chair next to Jack, putting up your best efforts to remain composed, polite, and NOT awkward. The conversation flowed effortlessly, but you, you remained quiet. Occasionally offering a nod and a brief reply. Your eyes shifted between John and Jack, effectively avoiding Luke, as if by ignoring Luke, you could somehow make the situation less complicated.

Eventually, John and Luke made their casual exit. You managed a tight smile and a polite wave, holding on to the facade of composure until they were out of sight. The moment they were gone, Jack’s attention snapped back to you, his brows furrowed in confusion and curiosity. “Why were you acting so weird?”

Suddenly, the cafe’s cozy outdoor setting felt more like an interrogation room, and you were in the spotlight.

“Wha-what do you mean,” your voice wavered despite the smile you plastered on. “I wasn’t being weird.” you countered, hoping the denial sounded more convincing to his ears than it did to yours.

Jack’s eyes widened in shock, as if he had just cracked the code. The revelation seemed to knock him off balance, almost sending him tumbling from his chair. “Oh my god,” he whispered, a mix of genuine shock and amusement in his voice, as a chuckle broke free. “You’re sleeping with John, aren’t you?”

A wave of relief washed over you at his misinterpretation. I mean it's better than to tell him about Luke, right? In the end Jack is still his older brother, and you couldn’t risk jeopardizing your friendship with Jack, even if whatever was going on with Luke meant something.

Caught between the fear of losing your closest friend and the chaos of the moment, you found yourself nodding along before the word “yes” tumbled out. And now, you possibly just made your situation even worse.

Once again, you found yourself at a bar with Jack and his teammates. The night a farewell toast before everyone dispersed for the off-season. The bar buzzed with a contagious mix of laughter and the clinking of glasses, everyone enjoying each other's company before leaving. Throughout the evening, you’d successfully avoided both Luke and John, navigating the minefield of awkward encounters. You also may have indulged in a few too many drinks to steady your nerves.

Finding yourself back at the bar for yet another round of liquid courage, you sensed someone approaching. Turning, it wasn’t Luke’s familiar curls, but John’s. You managed a somewhat forced smile as he settled down beside him. “Hey Y/N having fun?” he asked, his smile was radiating, infectious.

You nervously accepted your drink as it arrived, taking a sip that was perhaps a bit too eager. “Yeah, it’s great hanging out with you guys!”

An awkward silence fell upon you, filled by only the sounds of your silent sipping your respective drinks. John’s laughter cut through the silence, laughing at the obvious awkward situation, breaking the ice with ease. “Y’know Jack’s been chirping me relentlessly tonight. Mentioning something… interesting, about us.” you groaned, mentally facepalming yourself.

With a playful gesture, he pointed a finger between the two of you, his expression a mix of confusion and amusement. “Did… did we sleep together one night and I forgot?”

“No no no.” you rushed to clarify, flailing your hands around desperate to clear up the situation. John is, of course, handsome, and after a few too many drinks on a night out, it may have happened under other circumstances. You both burst out in laughter at the situation, dissolving any lingering awkwardness.

John dramatically placed a hand over his heart in relief. “Phew, good. Don’t want Luke getting all jealous on me.” your laughter echoed his, agreeing wholeheartedly until his words fully registered – you never mentioned Luke. “What did you say?”

John merely winked and offered a pat on your shoulder before making his exit, leaving you at the bar, more puzzled than ever.

As the evening unfolded, the flow of drinks seemed never-ending, each one blurring into the next until the vibrant energy of the bar felt like a distant hum. Suddenly, you found yourself seated in the passenger side of a car, the light of New Jersey streaking past in a dizzying display. Barely able to keep your eyes open in your drunken state you looked over to the driver's seat – Luke. “What are you doing? You shouldn’t be driving,” you slurred.

“I was sober tonight Y/N. And you… you were way too drunk, we’re going home,” Luke responded. His tone lacked its usual lightness, replaced by a firm blunt response. The drive was engulfed in silence, a tension hanging in the air that even your drunken haze couldn’t miss.

“So, cozying up with John,” Luke remarked, a hint of something indefinable in his tone.

Luke had seen you at the bar. His voice carried a weight, similar to the unease you felt when you saw him with that girl at Jack’s birthday.

Words failed you as you tried to respons, a string of incoherent mumbles and half-words coming out of your mouth. You felt like you were burning up, put on the spot, panicking. “Trying to make me jealous?” You blinked in shock at his question. There was no hint of anger in Luke’s voice; instead, he sounded amused. You could almost feel his smirk.

As you finally mustered up the courage to face him, there it was – that infuriating, captivating smirk. Part of you wanted to punch it off his face, yet another part was inexplicably drawn to it. “I… I wasn’t…” you stuttered, struggling to articulate your thoughts. Luke let out a soft chuckle, his hand leaving the steering wheel, landing comfortably on your thigh.

“I’ll admit, I got a bit jealous. But i know John wouldn’t do that to me,” he said, giving you a gentle squeeze. You were totally lost. Luke was jealous? Why? You weren’t trying to make him jealous. Your intentions had been the polar opposite – you were trying to avoid him. And here you were, alone, in the car, with Luke.

“And I know you wouldn’t do that either. You’re too charmed by me, aren’t you.” The car came to a stop, you were outside the apartment. Luke finally turned to meet your gaze. His question hung in the air, you didn’t know what to say. You weren’t interested in Luke, at all. You were just confused, right?

“Is that the reason why you’ve been avoiding me?” His words struck a nerve, he knew. He knew, that you’d been in fact avoiding him. You found yourself locked in his gaze, unable to pry your eyes away from his. Luke didn’t look away either, it was as if he was uncovering every secret, exploring every inch of you with his eyes.

In a swift, almost breathless moment, he leaned over, his lips finding yours. The kiss caught you by surprise, yet the thought of pulling away never crossed your mind. Instead, you found yourself surrendering – melting into the warmth of his lips. Your hand instinctively found its way to his curls, fingers weaving through them, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss.

You were moving in perfect sync.

His hand reached out, unlatching your seatbelt, freeing your from its restraint. With an ease of urgency, you climbed over the midconsole, never losing the precious contact between the two of you.

His hands found their way to your hips, finger pressing into the soft fabric of your clothes, pulling you even closer. Arching your back at the contact, your clothed core merely inches away from him, only your clothes separating you. Intoxication swept over you, but it wasn’t the alcohol swirling through your veins that left you dizzy – it was Luke. it was the touch of his hands roaming around your body, the feeling of his lips on yours, it was him. And you needed more. Your hands seemed to take on a life of their own, grasping at his shoulders, tugging at his curls, wrapping around his neck – anything to be closer to Luke.

Lost in the moment, straddling Luke in the drivers seat as you deepened the kiss. His hands on your hips, pulling you closer as you grind against him, feeling him harden beneath you. The friction was maddening, and you could feel yourself growing wetter by the second.

You simply couldn’t help yourself.

With a groan, Luke pulls away, leaving you both gasping for air. But the respite is short-lived as you felt Luke’s fingers grazing your inner thigh, sending shivers up your spine. He hooked his fingers under the edge of your panties, pulling them to the side. You bit down on your lip, trying to stifle the moan that threatened to escape as he slips inside, his fingers finding your clit with ease.

But you can’t, you’d been wanting this, needing this, needing him. Needing Luke.

You let out a soft moan, giving yourself over to the feeling of his fingers exploring your most sensitive area. At first, Luke’s fingers moved in small, teasing circles, bareuly brushing against the sensitive bundle of nerves, just watching you fall apart on top of him.

In the haze of pleasure, you found yourself drawn to Luke’s eyes. They were dark, intense, however, there was a hint of care, and maybe even love, taking in every moment of your reaction to his touch.

You couldn’t look away if you tried. Trapped in his gaze, the car filled with the sounds of your heavy breathing and whimpers – you didn’t want to escape.

Luke’s eyes never left yours, watching with rapt attention as your breath hitched in your throat. Your face flushed, eyes closed tight, feeling the pressure building inside you. Luke’s fingers sped up, pressing harder against your clit.

Suddenly, your vision faded, the orgasm tearing through you like a wildfire, your body shaking with the force of your release.

Collapsing on top of him, your breath coming in short, sharp, gasp as you tried to catch your breath. Luke pushed away the mess of your hair, gently caressing your chin, tilting your face so you could meet his gaze. He was smiling, not the usual shit eating smirk, but smiling with genuine care and affection.

What just happened?

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heartsandhischier · 21 days

Text

Jealousy in Jerseys

andrei svechnikov x female!reader

summary - 1.3k words. Newfound feelings spark jealousy part 6 of The Pretend Play

author's note - jelly Andrei will always make me blush omd

warnings - swearing

“Fuck,” Andrei muttered under his breath, his hands fumbling with the cuffs of his shirt. The dressing room felt claustrophobic with his growing frustration. Tonight wasn’t just any event; it was their debut joint interview. He wanted to present himself well – not just for the cameras, but, if he was honest, to impress Y/N as well.

The soft knock at the door barely registered until Y/N stepped into the room, her presence instantly calming. Sensing his frustration she stepped closer, “Hold still, Svech,” she murmured, a nickname she’d never uttered before – though it felt strangely right. Her hands were gentle yet assured as they corrected the alignment of his attire, her touch light but filled with an unspoken connection.

Andrei couldn’t help but let his gaze linger on her. Y/N was beautiful, her dress a perfect choice that highlighted her innate elegance, and those cowboy boots, a nod to her roots, grounded in her authenticity. The way her hair fell, framing her face and revealing the delicate line of her collarbones, captivated him utterly.

“I can feel you staring, y’know,” Y/N commented, a hint of amusement in her voice as she made the final adjustments to his outfit. Caught in the act, Andrei could only offer her a sheepish smile in return.

“Don’t get any ideas, Svech,” she teased, pulling back slightly but with a warmth that suggested she wasn’t entirely indifferent to his attention. That nickname, uttered so casually yet so laden with affection, sent a thrill through him, leaving him momentarily breathless.

Their eyes met, holding each other’s gaze in a moment that felt frozen in time. Something unspoken passed between them, a recognition of the budding connection that neither had fully acknowledged until now. In that lingering look, Andrei felt a surge of hope, a silent question hanging in the air between them.

The interview that followed was fraught with tension. The interviewer, known for her flirtatious demeanor, focused her attention almost exclusively on Andrei. He could tell that Y/N was being professional, but as the questions dug deeper laced with innuendos, even he was starting to sweat.

“Andrei, with such an impressive season under your belt, you must have fans throwing themselves at you. How do you manage to stay focused on the game?” the interviewer probed, her gaze unsettingly intense.

Andrei’s eyes flickered to Y/N, seeking a momentary refuge in her steady presence. “Well, of course. I appreciate the support of my fans, but staying disciplined, both on and off the ice, is key. I’m here to play hockey, not get distracted,” he answered, hoping his response would shift the conversation to safer territory.

The interviewer leaned in closer to Andrei, “You’re known for your intensity on the ice. Does that passion translate into other… areas of your life?” the question took him by surprise, and by the tightening grip Y/N had around his arm, he could tell he wasn’t the only one taken aback.

He took a deep breath “I like to think I’m passionate about everything i commit to, especially when it comes to giving back to the community and supporting my team.” he managed, aiming to keep the discussion professional.

She slowly nodded never prying her gaze off of Andrei, he could feel the tension rise with every passing moment. Her voice dropped to a more sultry tone, “I can’t help but notice the way you handle that stick on the ice. It’s quite… skillful. Do those hands of yours have any other talent’s they’re particularly good at?”

Caught off guard, Andrei glanced at Y/N, noticing her effort to maintain a professional facade. “Uh, well, hockey requires a lot of skill and practice. I guess you could say it helps me be precise and focused in other areas too… Y/N has actually started teaching me guitar, for instance,” he said, bringing Y/N into the conversation, seeking comfort in her proximity.

They navigated the rest of the interview with Andrei steering the conversation back to neutral ground whenever possible. Once it was over, the relief was palpable, though the residual tension from the interviewer’s probing questions lingered.

“She was… interesting,” Andrei commented as they walked away, his arm still casually draped around Y/N’s shoulders.

“That’s a nice way to put it,”

Later during the event, the two had separated mingling with different guests. Andrei’s eyes still carefully watching Y/N as she gracefully navigated the room and conversations with the other attendees. His grip around his drink tightened as he watched a man – seemingly someone she knew – approached her. Their interaction a stark contrast to the formal exchanges of the night. Andrei watched, a knot of unease tightened in his chest as laughter and hugs were shared.

Y/N approached him, her friend following. She turned to andrei with a bright smile, “Andrei, meet an old friend from college. He’s always admired you game,” she excitedly remarked, mustering up something about him also being a hockey player. Andrei, didn’t really pay attention, his jealousy getting the better of him.

Andrei’s response was curt, offering a hand, “Nice to meet you,” he muttered, though his grip suggested otherwise. The conversation flowed with ease, though unimportant to andrei. Until Y/N mentioned something about a friendly game sometime. Andrei couldn’t help but chuckle, his response met by a stern glare from Y/N.

“I barely think he could handle that,” he sarcastically stated, earning him a sharp look from Y/N. Y/N, quick to defuse the situation, made an excuse for them to leave, her disappointment in Andrei’s behavior clear.

The drive home was a quiet storm brewing, finally breaking when Y/N couldn’t contain her frustration any longer. “What the fuck was that back there?” she demanded, her voice a mix of frustration and bewilderment, a stark contrast to the controlled calm she had maintained earlier.

“I could ask you the same,” Andrei shot back defensively, the jealousy he'd been trying to suppress now bubbling to the surface. “Seemed like you were pretty cozy with your ‘old friend’.”

Y/N huffed at his response, almost not believing he could accuse her of something of the sort. “He’s been my friend since college, andrei. There’s nothing going on. Why would you even imply that.”

Andrei’s felt his grip on his steering wheel tighten, his jealousy creeping into his voice. “It just looked intimate. More than what a ‘friendly’ relationship should look like, don’t you think?”

Y/N laughed and shook her head in disbelief, taken aback by his accusations. “Intimate? Are you listening to yourself? We were catching up, that’s all. And since when do you get to decide how my friendships should look?” she defended her voice rising slightly.

Andrei was struggling to keep his emotions in check, “It’s not about deciding anything. It’s about perception. We have an image to maintain, Y/N. people are watching, making assumptions.”

Y/N laughed incredulously, shaking her head. “Perception? So, let me get this straight – you’re acting like this because you’re worried about what people might think? Or is it just that you can’t handle me having male friends?”

There was a pause, a switch suddenly turned in Y/N head as the realisation dawned on her. A mix of amusement and disbelief in her tone, “You’re jealous, aren’t you? This is what this is about.” she chuckled at the revelation.

Andrei, caught off guard, floundered for a response. "I’m not jealous," he insisted, his voice a mixture of denial and something softer, a vulnerability he hadn't meant to show.

"Jealous," she mused, leaning back with a huff, her arms crossed as if to ward off the absurdity of the situation. "Andrei Svechnikov, jealous." The words hung in the air, an accusation, and an observation all at once.

“Whatever floats your boat.”

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heartsandhischier · 24 days

Text

Power Play of the Heart

andrei svechnikov x female!reader

summary - 1.4k words. Is Andrei slowly falling you? part 5 of The Pretend Play

author's note - honestly just need to get this out hahaha, had this idea in my head long before I even created my blog. this man got me wrapped around his pinky and he don't even know

warnings - none

Andrei’s reflection in the mirror was a portrait of unease, his hands fumbling with the stubborn know of his tie, seemingly never looking right. It was the annual Canes charity gala, the soft murmur beyond his dressing room hinted at the grandeur awaiting. “Svechy, you ready soon? We’re about to hit the stage,” Seth’s head peaked around the corner, his voice a reminder of the ticking clock. Andrei muttered a quick ‘I’ll be right there’ continuing his battle with his tie.

As sudden vibration broke through his concentration, a message from Y/N lighting up his phone screen.

Y/N: I’m running a bit late, don’t have too much fun without me.

This was to be their third public appearance, and he felt a stir of nerves, an odd mix of relief and disappointment at her tardiness. It afforded him a moment to breathe, to steel himself for the evening ahead.

Taking the stage solo, Andrei was met with a sea of faces, the applause a warm welcome that belied his inner turmoil. He offered the crowd a smile, a wave, his persona as the affable athlete firmly in place. Yet, as he mingled, his thoughts wandered to Y/N, to the curious blend of anticipation and apprehension her presence evoked within him.

Then, as if summoned by his thoughts, the room hushed, attention riveted to the grand staircase where Y/N made her entrance. Time seemed to slow, her descent more a glide than a step, her gown a masterpiece – a creation that flowed around her that left him, and many others, momentarily breathless. The dress was unlike anything he had imagined her in, a blend of sophistication and allure that transformed her. The fabric shimmered with each step she took, a cascade of light that followed her movement. Her hair, usually free and unbridled, was styled in an elegant updo, exposing the graceful line of her neck.

The hockey player found himself unable to look away, his usual facade of indifference crumbling under the weight of this new revelation. There was an undeniable beauty to her, yes, but it was more than that — it was the way she carried herself, the confidence that radiated from her as she descended the stairs, meeting the gaze of the guests with a poised smile.

His heart, much to his chagrin, skipped a beat. He was taken aback by the intensity of his own reaction, a mix of admiration and something deeper he wasn't ready to name. It was a side of her he hadn't seen, or perhaps had chosen not to see, hidden beneath their bickering and the facade of their fake relationship.

As she approached, the murmurs of admiration from the guests reached his ears, but they faded into insignificance. Her eyes found his, a spark of amusement flickering within them as she read the surprise on his face.

"Lost for words?" she teased, her voice a soft melody against the clamor of the gala.

He cleared his throat, striving to regain his composure. "I... You look... different.”

"Different good, or different bad?" Her smile was playful, yet he detected a hint of genuine curiosity.

"Different... stunning," he confessed, the truth of his words laying bare the shift within him, a recognition of Y/N's beauty and grace that transcended their facade.

Her smile widened, pleased and a bit triumphant, as if his admission was a victory. "Well, let's not waste this moment, then. We have an image to uphold, don't we?" she reminded him, slipping her arm through his with a familiarity that sent an unexpected warmth through him.

As the gala proceeded, andrei watched her, a silent observer. Each time she laughed or smiled, whether at a teammate’s joke or in response to a fan’s enthusiasm, he saw her in a new light. The way the soft lighting of the room played across her features, the ease with which she navigated the crowd, and the genuine warmth she exuded left him bewildered

Stealing glances at her became a game of chance and temptation. He watched as she moved with a natural grace, her interactions imbued with an effortless charisma that seemed to draw people to her. The sight of her engaging so openly, so sincerely, with guests and teammates alike stirred something within him—a mix of admiration and a poignant sense of yearning for a connection that transcended their arrangement.

The realization that her warmth and comfort were not merely facets of her public persona but intrinsic qualities she possessed unsettled him. He was used to compartmentalizing their interactions, filing them away under the guise of necessity and pretense. Yet, as the evening wore on, the lines between the act they performed and the reality of their burgeoning rapport blurred, leaving him adrift in uncharted emotional waters.

As the final echoes of the gala's laughter and music faded into the night, Andrei and Y/N made their way through the dispersing crowd, offering smiles and farewells to his teammates. The crisp evening air greeted them as they stepped outside, a welcome reprieve from the warmth of the crowded venue. Under the canopy of the night sky, they paused, their exchange of goodbyes hanging between them, a customary end to their orchestrated appearances.

Andrei, however, found himself hesitating, caught in the afterglow of the evening's unexpected revelations. The memory of Y/N's elegance, her laughter echoing in his mind, anchored him to the spot. The night had peeled back layers of their pretense, revealing glimpses of genuine connection that left him questioning the boundaries of their arrangement.

"You need a ride?" he found himself asking, his voice cutting through the cool night air. It was an offer spurred by impulse, a desire to extend the night, to linger in the company of this new version of Y/N he was only just beginning to understand.

Y/N turned, her expression one of mild surprise, a flicker of curiosity lighting her eyes. For a moment, she seemed to weigh his offer, the silence between them stretching. Then, with a small nod, she accepted, her hand finding his in a gesture that felt as natural as it was unexpected. The contact sent a jolt of warmth through him, a tangible reminder of the shift in their dynamic.

As they walked to his car, the city lights casting long shadows on the pavement, the easy silence that enveloped them felt like a departure from their usual guarded exchanges. The touch of her hand in his was a silent conversation, a language they were only just beginning to navigate.

The drive was marked by the soft hum of the car and the occasional sweep of headlights across the darkened streets. Andrei stole glances at Y/N, her profile illuminated by the passing lights, her expression thoughtful. The night had woven a thread of intimacy between them, a shared secret that the car's confined space seemed to magnify.

This feels right, doesn’t it? Why does it feel right?

"Do you think they bought it?" Y/N finally broke the silence, her voice low, a reference to their performance at the gala.

Andrei considered her question, the "they" undoubtedly referring to their audience of teammates, fans, and press. "I think so," he replied, the acknowledgment of their success tinged with a newfound reluctance to continue the charade

Y/N turned to him, a soft smile playing on her lips. Her gaze holding his for a moment longer than necessary. "Thank you for the ride—and for the company."

The simplicity of her gratitude struck a chord in Andrei, a realization that their relationship, however fabricated, had evolved into something neither of them had anticipated. "Anytime," he responded, the words carrying a weight of sincerity that surprised him.

As he pulled up to her place, the car's idle rumble a gentle backdrop, they shared a look that acknowledged the evening's unspoken shift. Y/N's exit from the car was reluctant, a pause on the threshold of departure that neither had expected.

"See you tomorrow?" Andrei asked, the question a hopeful tether to the next time they would meet.

"Yes, see you tomorrow," Y/N confirmed, her smile genuine as she stepped out into the night, the door closing softly behind her.

Andrei watched her until she disappeared inside, the lingering warmth of her hand in his a ghostly sensation. The drive back was a reflective journey, the night's events unfolding in his mind like a movie, each moment a scene that brought them closer. The gala, with all its glitz and performance, had unexpectedly bridged the distance between them, leaving Andrei to wonder about the future, about what lay beyond the pretense and if the moments of genuine connection could indeed blossom into something real.

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heartsandhischier · 24 days

Note

just came across your profile we're both canes and devils fans super cool! love your works btw!🫶🏾

Omg thank u sm 🥹🫶 yeah looove the canes and their style of play, but let’s be honest nothing can make me EVER hate the devils. They were the first team I saw in person 🫡🫡🫡

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heartsandhischier · 25 days

Text

In the past

nico hischier x reader

summary - 2k words. attending a new years party you encounter something you thought to be of the past

author's note - first time trying to write angst i guess. daydreaming about meeting nico whilst hiking in the alps

warnings - mentions of alcohol

You delicately adjusted the shimmering black fabric of your dress, the soft material clinging to your form in a flattering embrace. This new year’s eve held a special significance – it marked your first celebration in New Jersey since your recent relocation for work. Malia, your colleague who quickly became your best friend, had extended a heartfelt invitation to join her at a New Year’s party. From the moment you stepped foot into the office, her welcoming embrace had dissolved any apprehension you felt about starting anew.

Tonight’s festivities were hosted by Malia’s boyfriend, John, and his teammates. You were excited. Anticipation bubbled within you at the opportunity to meet new people and make friends in your new state.

As you assessed the final touches to your outfit in the mirror, a gentle knock on the door interrupted your thoughts. Malia’s voice filtered through the room, “Hey you ready soon?” Her eyes lit up as they landed on your outfit, a wide smile spreading across her face. “Oh my, you look gorgeous Y/N!” she exclaimed. Blushing at her compliment, you gave her a playful twirl showcasing your outfit.

The streetlights flickered past in a blur as you drove down the streets of New Jersey. Your mind was completely distracted, you weren’t sure why, maybe nerves? After all, the idea of meeting an entire hockey team, not to mention the state’s hockey team the New Jersey Devils, would be enough to make anyone’s palms sweat. You didn’t follow the sport, and you sure as hell didn’t know anything about the players for that matter.

Lost in your own thoughts, you were jolted back to reality by John’s voice echoing from the front seat. “Wha-what?” you stammered, momentarily disoriented by the interruption.

His tone tinged with amusement, John repeated his question, “Are you nervous?”

A nervous chuckle escaped your lips as you attempted to compose yourself. “Um, maybe a little,” you admitted, a sheepish grin tugging at the corners of your mouth.

Malia couldn’t help but chuckle at your response, turning in her seat to meet your gaze, mischief dancing in her eyes. “You know,” she teased, “there’s going to be a lot of cute guys there.” John giving her a light, playful punch at her comment.

Rolling her eyes, Malia playfully retorted, “For her! Not for me. You know I think you’re the cutest,” her words dripping with a teasing tone as se affectionaly stroked his arm. You couldn’t resist and playfully mock barfed at their affectionate banter.

John chuckled at your reaction, his laughter reflected in the rearview mirror as he glanced back at you. “What if you hit it off with one of John’s teammates?!” Malia suggested excitedly, “We could go on double dates!”

Despite your initial nerves, the idea of meeting someone new held a glimmer of excitement. Maybe just maybe, this New year’s eve held unexpected encounters.

“Johnny!” a boy with curly hair, his face alive with excitement, swung open the door to greet you. He must have been a few years younger, though he was charming, no doubt. Stepping aside, he ushered you into the bustling penthouse, where the party was already in full swing. Laughter filled the air, mingling with the upbeat rhythm of music. As you crossed the threshold, you were greeted by a breathtaking panoramic view of the sparkling cityscape.

The spacious penthouse was adorned in elegant, sparkling decor. From every corner, the room buzzed with energy as guests mingled and chatted animatedly. A group of women, likely the wives and girlfriends of the players, greeted you warmly, their arms open wide in welcome.

Malia appeared at your side, a grin spreading across her face as she surveyed the scene. “Isn’t this place incredible?” she remarked, her voice filled with awe. “The Devils really knows how to throw a party.”

The party unfolded in a whirlwind of excitement, you found yourself immersed in the lively atmosphere, mingling with new friends. The energy of the gathering filled you with a sense of belonging.

As the clock ticked closer to midnight, a subtle shift in the air caught your attention. You could feel a pair of eyes lingering on you, their gaze weighing heavy on your skin. With a sense of curiosity, you scanned the room, searching for the source of the gaze.

Amidst the swirling sea of people,

You could feel a pair of eyes lingering on you. You perched up, scanning the room in search of the source of the gaze. Amidst the throng of people, a pair of big brown eyes locked onto yours, their gaze held a hint of sadness. He looked familiar, but through your drunken haze you couldn’t place where you had encountered him before.

The suggestion of shots from one of the girls snapped you out of your thoughts, prompting you to join the lively atmosphere by taking a shot with them. Despite the momentary distraction, you couldn’t shake off the curiosity surrounding the stranger whose gaze lingered on you. As you laughed and engaged in conversation with the group, the stranger remained a constant presence in your thoughts.

Those familiar eyes, the flowing brown hair, and the beard. It couldn’t be.

“Do you need any help with that?” a voice thick with an accent greeted you as you struggled to close the back of the car, your hands weighed down by the heavy bags. Turning, you met the gaze of a stranger with beautiful brown eyes, his brown locks hidden beneath a snapback. A warm smile graced his lips as he reached out to relieve some of the weight from your shoulders.

Together, you and the stranger made your way to the rented little cabin, a cozy retreat overlooking the breathtaking views of the Swiss Apls. With a soft thud, you droppe the bags onto the floor, turning to face him. “Actually, do you know any good hikes, preferably one where i can take a swim as well?” you asked.

The stranger’s smile widened, his brown eyes twinkling with excitement. “Actually, I was thinking of doing a hike like that tomorrow. You want to join?”

One hike turned into days in each others company. Amidst the backdrop of the swiss alps, you found yourselves seated next to each other at a cozy outdoor restaurant, the crisp mountain air filling your embracing you.

“Y’know,” he bagan, his voice soft and laced with that comforting, beautiful accent, “I never imagined I’d meet someone like you while backpacking through my own country.”

You chuckled at his words, tracing the rim of your wine glass with your fingertips. “And I never expected to find myself falling for a local,” you teased, a playful glint in your eyes.

He paused, his expression softening as he reached for your hand. “I think I’m in love with you,” he confessed, his gaze locking with yours. Cupping your face in his hands, he leaned forward, pressing a loving kiss to your lips.

As the chaos of the party faded into the background, your breath caught in your chest, overwhelmed by a flood of emotions. Your mind was clouded, your heartbeat rising, you navigated through the crowded room. Finally reaching the terrace, you swung the door open, greeted by the cool night air, soothing your troubled mind.

Nico. The mere mention of his name brought back bittersweet memories of your time together during your solo backpacking trip to Switzerland. He was everything you had ever dreamed of – affectionate, loving, and endlessly funny. In his presence, you felt comfortable, loved and at peace. You were in love with him. However, your romance was cut short as you had to leave to go back to the states. The pain lingered like a shadow, buried deep within the recesses of your heart, too raw to confront, too profound to forget.

“Y/N?” there is was, that accent, the voice that made you weak in the knees. You hastily wiped away the tears that threatened to spill from your eyes with the sleeve of your dress. Turning around, there he was. He was right there, in front of you, dressed in a sleek black suit, his soft brown eyes filled with sadness that mirrored your own. “What are you doing here,” you managed to choke out, your voice barely above a whisper.

He scratched the back of his neck, struggling to find the right words. “I… this is… my teams new years party… and…” He stammered, his voice faltering.

“I meant here. In the states.” you interrupted, your voice tinged with a mixture of pain and longing.

When you had boarded that plane, you were certain it marked the end of your story together, convinced that you had to bury it in the depths of your heart to move on. Yet here he stood before you, a living, breathing reminder of a past you tried so hard to leave behind. The question echoed in your mind like a relentless drumbeat: why didn’t he tell you?

“I…” his voice wavered as he began, his fingers fiddling nervously. “I am the captain for the New Jersey Devils,” he confessed, his words hanging heavily in the air.

Shock coursed through you at the revelation. He had been in the States all this time, and yet he never once mentioned it to you. He never told you, never even mentioned it as you stepped into the airport. Anger and hurt welled up inside you as you struggled to comprehend why he had kept this from you.

“Why did you lie?” the accusation laced with pain.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

He stood before you, speechless, his gaze filled with a mixture of regret and remorse, unable to find the words to explain his silence.

“I,” he sighed, his voice heavy with remorse. “You were so excited about your job in Seattle, I didn’t want to distract you, making you fly back and forth to meet me all the time.”

You huffed in frustration at his explanation, crossing you arms over your chest. While you understood his reasoning, you couldn’t help but feel disappointed. For him, for the two of you. You believed that together, you could have figured it out, if he only told you. He said he loved you for crying out loud.

“We could have figured it out, Nico. If only you told me,” you said, sadness lacing your voice.

“I… I know. I regretted it the moment you left,” he said.

He stepped closer, his presence now towering over you, the distance between you filled with a sense of regret, heartbreak, and unspoken words. Despite the tension that hung heavy in the air, you found yourself gazing up at him, the same familiar comfort of his brown eyes enveloping you in a bittersweet embrace.

“You look different,” you finally broke the suffocating silence.

“You look the same, Y/N. Beautiful,” he replied softly, his hands gently tucked into the pockets of his dress pants.

The weight of unspoken words hung heavy in the air, neither of you able to find the right words to break the tension.

“I was in love with you,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper, the weight of your admission hanging heavily in the air.

He let out a sad sigh, his hand rising to gently stroke your cheek. Your face instinctively melting into his touch. So familiar, so comfortable. So, safe.

“I am still in love with you, Y/N.”

In the stillness of the moment, his words hung in the air, the weight of them sinking into your heart. You searched his eyes for any sign of hesitation, finding only sincerity and a familiar longing mirrored in his gaze.

As the clock struck midnight, the world seemed to hold its breath, the anticipation thick in the air. And then, as if drawn by an invisible force, you leaned in, your lips meeting in a tender kiss that spoke volumes of unspoken promises and second chances.

Pulling back ever so slightly, Nico looked at you with a depth of emotion that took your breath away. "Y/N," he whispered, his voice barely above a murmur, "Will you give us another chance?"

#nico hischier x reader #nico hischier fanfic #nico hischier smut #nico hischier imagine #nico hischier #nh13 #nico hischier x you #nic hischier x y/n #nhl fanfic #hockey fanfic #hockey fic #nhl fanfiction #new jersey devils #njd #new jersey devils fic #new jersey devils imagine #new jersey devils x reader #nico hishcier fanfiction

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heartsandhischier · 25 days

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i've been watching this edit on repeat for god knows how many times. I am so in love with this man

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heartsandhischier · 25 days

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Breaking the Defence

andrei svechnikov x female!reader

summary - 1.2k words. In an attempt to plot their next charade, barriers begin to crumble. Andrei steps into Y/N's world, finding unexpected warmth. part 4 of The Pretend Play

author's note - Honestly Andrei is such a sweetheart. I'd love for him to take care of me when I'm sick omd

warnings - none I think. just sweetheart andrei taking care of sick reader

The bustle of the coffee shop rang in his ears, as he impatiently tapped his foot trying to look for the familiar face supposed to enter. He frantically checked the time on his clock, 4:35pm, her tardiness annoyed him – this was her suggestion.

“We need something more convincing after the diaster at my album release. That barely counted as a public appearance.”

“Disaster? Please, I was the epitome of supportive. I clapper, I smiled, I even listened to that country twang of yours.”

“You looked like you were being held hostage. We need to appear like we actually enjoy each other’s company, Andrei.”

“And let’s not forget the whole reason we’re doing this charade in the first place. It’s your reputation we’re trying to save here, not mine.” Andrei was taken aback by her sudden reminder.

“You seem awfully eager to spend more time in this fake relationship. Sure you’re not enjoying it a bit too much?”

She scoffed in disbelief, “Enjoying it? Please. I’d rather be anywhere else than pretending to be in love with someone who can barely stand me." she shot back.

"Feeling's mutual. So, where is this next grand performance? Another hockey game where you pretend to know what’s going on?"

“Listen, Andrei, I don’t want to spend more time with you than necessary. So, let’s just meet at a cafe and discuss this further, I got some ideas. The sooner the better.”

“Fine. I’ll be there. But I’m only doing this for the sake of the agreement. Don’t think for a second it’s because I enjoy your company.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Andrei.”

Andrei grunted in annoyance, this was her idea. He felt stupid standing there, glancing towards the door every second, looking like he was just stood up for a date – which in a sense he was. In a moment of resignation, he reached for his phone, typing out a message with a hint of frustration coloring each word.

Andrei: Hey, where are you? We we’re supposed to meet 4:15

He let out an annoyed sigh as he pressed send, eyes glued to the screen as a little bubble appeared in the corner signalling her upcoming response.

Y/N: I’m so sorry, i woke up sick. Been spending the day with the toilet

Andrei couldn’t help but feel a bit sorry for her, he didn’t answer the text. He made his way to the coffe shop counter, the clamor of the afternoon rush providing a mundane backdrop to his swirling thoughts. “A black coffee,” he ordered, “And a cold matcha,” he added after a pause.

Once again standing outside her apartment he knocked on the door, he was met by an exhausted looking Y/N. Despite the obvious fatigue that painted her features pale and her eyes dimmer than usual, ther5e was an undeniable raw beauty to her. “What are you doing here,” her voice a rapsy whisper, lacking the usual spite and resentment.

“Well, thought we could do our arrangements here,” he spoke, his voice carrying an unusual softness, in his hands he held the drinks. As he extended the matcha towards her, he noticed the immediate change in her expression. He couldn’t help but acknowledge internally that, despite his often feigned disinterest when she was talking, he had, in fact, been paying attention. More than he’d like to admit. The fact that he’d remembered her favourite drink, even when it seemed he was nowhere near listening, spoke volumes.

Stepping aside to let him in, Y/N couldn't mask the surprise and faint hint of appreciation that danced in her eyes. "You didn't have to come all the way here, Andrei. We could have just rescheduled," she said, her voice a gentle murmur against the quiet of her apartment.

Andrei, closing the door behind him, shrugged off her protest. "And miss the chance to see you at your worst?" he teased gently, a small smile playing on his lips. "Besides, we've got plans to make. Couldn't have you dodging the work."

As they settled into her living room, he noticed the cluttered state of her living area. Without a word, Andrei began to tidy up, collecting scattered tissues and aligning misplaced items, creating a cleaner, more harmonious space where she could recover in peace.

Y/N watched from the couch, a mix of surprise and gratitude coloring her features. “You don’t have to do that, Andrei,” she protested weakly, but there was a note of relief in her voice, appreciating his unspoken understanding of her needs.

"I want to," he replied simply, his actions flowing naturally as he moved through her space. Once satisfied with the tidiness of the living room, Andrei ventured into the kitchen, where dishes from the past few days had accumulated. He rolled up his sleeves and started washing them, the sound of running water a gentle backdrop to the quiet of the apartment. The normalcy of the task, juxtaposed with the complexity of their relationship, offered Andrei a moment of reflection on the care and concern he felt for Y/N.

Their afternoon unfolded with an unexpected ease, the coffee table between them a makeshift command center for their plotted charades. Despite Y/N's ailment, her spirit, undimmed, wove through their planning, her occasional cough a stark reminder of her current vulnerability.

"You know, you're not half bad at this nursing thing," Y/N joked during a momentary lull, her gaze lifting to meet his as she sipped her matcha. "Should I start calling you Dr. Svechnikov?"

Andrei laughed, the sound richer and more genuine than Y/N was accustomed to. "Please, don't. I can barely handle being your fake date, let alone your doctor." His jest was light, but it carried an undercurrent of warmth that hadn't been present before.

The afternoon passed with an ease that was unfamiliar but welcome. Andrei found himself more attentive to Y/N's needs, fetching her water and ensuring she was comfortable. It was a side of him he seldom showed, and Y/N couldn't help but notice the gentle concern he exhibited.

As the evening approached and their work concluded, Y/N's energy began to wane. Andrei noticed the change immediately, his earlier levity replaced by concern. "You should get some rest," he suggested, his voice carrying a softness that felt out of place in the mouth that usually delivered sharp retorts.

Y/N nodded, the fatigue evident in her movements as she stood to see him out. "Thanks, Andrei. For today... it was surprisingly... nice," she admitted, struggling to find the right words to encapsulate the shift in their dynamic.

Andrei paused at the door, turning to look at her. "Get better soon, Y/N. We've got a busy schedule ahead." His statement, simple as it was, carried a weight of genuine care that didn't go unnoticed.

"Will do, Dr. Svechnikov," Y/N quipped weakly, a trace of her usual spirit flickering in her eyes.

Andrei offered a small, acknowledging nod before stepping out into the evening. As he walked away, he couldn't help but reflect on the day's events. The unexpected care, the shared jokes, and the undeniable warmth that had briefly enveloped them both hinted at something more profound than their usual banter. For the first time, Andrei found himself contemplating the depth of their connection, wondering if beneath their contractual façade.

#andrei svechnikov fanfiction #andrei svechnikov fic #andrei svechnikov imagine #andrei svechnikov x reader #andrei svechnikov #andrei svechnikov x y/n #as37 #andrei svechnikov fanfic #carolina hurricanes fanfiction #carolina hurricanes fanfic #canes fanfiction #canes fanfic #nhl fanfic #nhl fanfiction #hockey fic #hockey fanfic

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heartsandhischier · 26 days

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"You slept with who?"

nico hischier x reader

summary - 1.5k words. trying to escape an awkward encounter after a one night stand, emphasise on trying

author's note - in my head nico is such a sweetheart no matter the situation, and NO ONE can tell me otherwise. i will protect this man with my life!

warnings - slight reference to the devils tango (ig), swearing

As the morning sun tiptoed through the parted curtains, it painted the room in a soft glow, awaking you from a restless slumber. A throbbing headache served as your unwelcome alarm, joining forces with the sunlight to assault your senses. You pulled the covers over your head, seeking refuge from the discomfort, suddenly hit by an unfamiliar scent – cologne. With a jolt, you sat up, struggling to pry your heavy eyelids apart as you looked around the room. This wasn’t your bedroom.

Where the fuck am I?

Alone in the unfamiliar bed, you took a moment, attempting to piece together the puzzle of your surroundings. The room was clean, neat, the owner clearly a tidy person. Despite the overall cleanliness, scattered trinkets and personal belongings were scattered along the space, giving it a sense of lived-in comfort – a curated chaos.

Your breath caught in your throat as your gaze fell upon the floor, a scattered array of clothing formed a path from the bedroom door to the bed. With a hesitant rise from the mattress, a sudden realization washed over you – you were completely naked.

Remnants of the previous streamed through your mind. Recollections of hitting the club with your girlfriends flooded back, the taste of margaritas still lingering on your lips. The thumping bass and flashing lights of the club replayed in your mind, each memory accompanied by the relentless pounding in your head.

As your feet met the floor, your head pulsed with every beat, you had to get out of here. This wasn’t your typical scene – you weren’t accustomed to waking up in unfamiliar beds after nights of festivities. And when these rare occurrences did happen, you never stayed long, avoiding any potential awkward encounters with one-night stands. Hastily you collected your belongings, attempting to look just a bit more presentable as you assessed your disheveled reflection in the full-length mirror. Panic set in as you realized your heels were missing – likely abandoned somewhere in the entrance hallway.

You peeked your head past the bedroom door, checking if the coast was clear. No one in sight. You kept your head low as you tiptoed along the corridor. Your heart raced with each step, the uncertainty of encountering the apartment’s owner weighing down on your consciousness. Lost in your haste, a collision abruptly halted your escape.

Fuck

As water splattered and your belongings scattered across the floor, the jarring sound of shattering glass pierced your ears. Before your bare feet could melt into the broken shards, a pair of strong arms caught you, preventing a painful misstep. A heavy silence settled over the room as you couldn’t bear to meet the eyes of the stranger. “Are you okay?” His voice was thick with an accent you couldn’t quite pinpoint, breaking through the tension. Unable to muster a response, you offered a timid apology, keeping your eyes trained on the floor as you began to gather your scattered belongings. Finally standing upright, you mustered the strength to meet the stranger’s gaze. Warm brown eyes met yours, framed by a freshly-trimmed beard and tousled brown locks – a picture of effortless charm, even in the disarray of early morning wakefulness.

You were lost in his eyes for a moment. He must have noticed as he let out a small chuckle, “I’m sorry for ruining your escape. I was just trying to get you a glass of water.” he explained with a soft smile, gesturing toward the now-spilled contents polled on the floor amidst the shattered glass.

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you watched him bend down to collect the scattered glass. It seemed like a series of unfortunate events had led you to this moment – waking up in a stranger’s apartment, breaking a glass meant for you during your escape, and now, standing awkwardly as he cleaned up your mess. What made it even worse was that you didn’t even know his name.

An uneasy silence hung in the air as he continued to tidy up. "So... last night was fun?" his smile genuine despite the situation. You could only manage a sheepish smile and a polite nod in response, feeling utterly mortified. He chuckled at your response, tossing the broken glass into the trash.

Once he finished cleaning up, he approached you again with a fresh glass of water in hand. Dressed in a black t-shirt neatly tucked into a pair of gym shorts, you couldn’t help but notice the definition of his muscles peeking through the fabric. You politely accepted the glass of water with trembling hands. Taking a hesitant sip, the cool water provided some relief to your throbbing headache.

His laughter broke through the tension as he observed your state. “You don’t remember my name, do you?” he teased, causing your cheeks to flush even deeper. You stammered out an awkward apology, feeling like you couldn’t sink any lower in embarrassment.

“It’s alright, happens to the best of us,” he reassured you, his voice gentle and understanding. “Since it seems we’re both in need of a little memory jog, how about we start fresh? Hi I’m Nico,” he introduced himself with a mock bow.

You felt a smile tug at your lips, appreciating Nico’s effort to lighten the mood – definitely not the reaction you’d expected after the awkwardness of being caught trying to escape his apartment. “Nice to meet you Nico, I am Y/N,” you gave him a small courtesy, mirroring his playfulness. His laughter was infectious, melting away the tension that had gripped you moments before. It was amazing how quickly his easygoing demeanor put you at ease.

“I would’ve offered you breakfast, but I have to head out to practice,” Nico explained with a smile, his warm brown eyes meeting yours. “Early morning practice after a night out, wow, you’re a fighter,” you teased, genuinely impressed by his dedication given your own current state.

"Well, gotta do what you gotta do when you're captain," he replied with a grin, slinging his bag over his shoulder. "But I can offer you a ride home on the way.”

“YOU SLEPT WITH NICO HISCHIER?!” Sarah’s voice was a mixture of shock and excitement, drawing the attention of nearby patrons in the cafe. You hastily gestured for her to lower her voice, feeling a flush of embarrassment creeping up your cheeks.

Sarah’s hand shot to her mouth covering it, quickly scanning her surroundings she leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “You slept with Nico Hischier!?” her eyes were wide with excitement, barely able to contain herself.

“I didn’t know!” you chuckled, shrugging in amusement. “Yeah, that’s because you’re boring and don’t watch sports!” Sarah teased. “He’s literally the captain of the New Jersey Devils!” Sarah exclaimed, her arms waving around excitedly.

“How was it? Was it good?” Sarah fired off questions, her curiosity barely giving you enough time to answer. You laughed, trying to keep up with her rapid-fire interrogation. “You tell me,” you replied, taking a sip of your coffee. “I don’t remember, I mean, I didn’t even remember his name!”

Sarah’s eyes widened in realization. “You have to meet him again,” she urged, the sudden weight of missed opportunity sinking in. You groaned – you didn’t get his number. With a defeated sigh, you explained the predicament to Sarah.

“We’ll just have to go back to the club. tonight. “

The club pulsed with energy, red lights casting an enticing glow over the throngs of dancing bodies. Sarah and the girls were lost in the music, their laughter mingling with the bass thumping through the air. Despite their best efforts to drag you to the dancefloor, your attention remained divided, your gaze drifting to the entrance in hopes of spotting those familiar brown eyes.

It was a long shot, you knew, but it was worth trying. Why hadn’t you thought of exchanging numbers? You sighed, taking a sip of your amaretto sour. Amidst the chaos of the club, your purse buzzed incessantly, drawing you out of your thoughts. Fishing out your phone, you were met with an unknown number flashing on the screen. Normally, you wouldn't answer such calls, but tonight, emboldened by the alcohol coursing through your veins, you pressed the phone to your ear.

“Hello?” you shouted into the phone, hoping to be heard above the chaos of the club.

“I can see you're looking for me,” the voice on the other end replied, laced with the same thick accent. Your head snapped up, scanning the club for the source of the voice. And there he was, standing by a table surrounded by a group of guys you could only make out to be his teammates. His warm brown eyes locked onto yours, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he gave you a small wave. A surge of relief and excitement washed over you as you realized you hadn’t lost your chance after all. You couldn’t help but smile, you probably exchanged numbers during your drunken encounter, lucky for you.

With a grin plastered on your face, you made your way through the pulsating crowd. The warmth of his presence drawing you closer, as the pulsating rhythm of the club faded into the background.

“Hey stranger,” you playfully smiled. “Ready for round two?”

#nico hischier #nico hischier x y/n #nico hischier x you #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier fanfic #nico hischier fanfiction #nico hischier imagine #nico hischier smut #nh13 #new jersey devils #njd #nhl fanfiction #hockey fic #hockey fanfic #nhl fanfic #new jersey devils x reader #new jersey devils fic #new jersey devils imagine

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heartsandhischier · 26 days

Text

The Illusion of Teamwork

andrei svechnikov x female!reader

summary - 997 words. attending Y/N album release arguments arise part 3 of The Pretend Play

author's note - i'm getting too invested in this story lol. hope ya'll like it

warnings - swearing

The evening air was tinged with anticipation, the venue alive with the murmur of voices and the subtle clink of glasses. It was Y/N’s album release party, and event marking the countless hours of dedication and passion. The venue itself was a masterpiece of elegance, with ambient lighting lighting and tasteful decor, buzzed with the chatter of guests, each eagerly awaiting the star of the night.

Andrei, typically more at ease in the stark, adrenaline-fueled world of ice rinks, found himself out of his element. His choice of attire, a sleek yet undeniably casual outfit, was a misguided attempt at blending comfort with the evening’s upscale expectations. Upon arrival, he was met with a disappointed glare from Y/N.

“Really, Andrei? This is a milestone in my career, not a backyard barbeque,” she chided, her gaze scrutizining his less-than-formal attire. The annoyance in her voice was palpable, underscoring the importance of the event not just for her career but for the image they were supposed to project.

Caught off guard by her reaction, Andrei’s defense was half-hearted. “I though it was supposed to be a laid-back event,” he replied, misunderstanding the gravity of the occasion.

Y/N’s sigh spoke volumes, her frustration clear. “There’s laid-back, and then there’s just not caring,” she countered.

Their exchange was abruptly cut short by the eager press, their cameras a barrage of flashing lights as they were asked to pose together. Slipping into their facades, they smiled for the cameras, a picture of harmony to any onlooker unaware of the simmering tension between them.

The evening progressed, and Y/N, in her element, mingled with other celebrities and musicians, her laughter and bright conversation a stark contrast to the stiffness of her interaction with Andrei. He watched as she seamlessly blended into the crowd, when her attention was captured by a renowned musician. They were deeply engrossed in conversation, their head tilted towards each other in a manner that suggested a shared secret or joke. Laughter spilled from Y/N, genuine and ungarded, his hand lightly touching her arm in a moment of connection.

Andrei felt an unwelcome tightening in his chest, a sensation he was reluctant to acknowledge as jealousy. He watched as Y/N’s eyes sparkled with enthusiasm, her animated gestures painting her in a light he hadn’t seen before – a side of her that seemed to emerge effortlessly in the company of others.

In a moment of spite and perhaps to soothe his bruised ego, andrei began to engage with the female guests, his demeanor shifting to one of charm and attentiveness. They were charmed by his approach, drawn in by the allure of his public persona. As he engaged in light conversation, his laughter a little too loud, his glances back at Y/N a little too frequent, he hoped to capture her attention, to elicit some sign of acknowledgment or perhaps even jealousy.

But Y/N, absorbed in her conversation, seemed oblivious to Andrei's maneuvers, her focus on the musician unwavering. It was only when their dialogue reached a natural pause that she glanced across the room, her eyes meeting Andrei's. The sight of him, surrounded by a group of women, each vying for his attention, sent a jolt of annoyance through her.

She excused herself from the musician, her expression composed as she made her way towards Andrei. Interrupting his conversation with a polite yet firm interjection, she addressed him with a coolness that belied her irritation. "Andrei, can I have a word with you?"

Y/N led Andrei to a quiter spot of the event, her eyes narrowed slightly. “What the fuck are you doing?” Y/N’s frustration was barely contained, her voice a low hiss amid the gala’s ambiance.

Andrei’s shrugged carelessly, pretending to not understand, which only made things worse. “You’re supposed to be here supporting me, not flirting with every woman in sight. It’s making us look bad,” Y/N said, her tone sharp with accusation.

Andrei’s response was defensive, laced with bitterness. “What? I’m not allowed to talk to people now? Seems like you’re doing just fine on your own.”

Y/N’s eyes flashed with frustration. “There’s a difference between networking and blatantly flirting. It’s disrespectful, not just to me but to the effort we’re supposed to put into this arrangement.”

“That’s rich coming from you,” he shot back. He couldn’t help but be sarcastic, his own frustrations boiling to the surface. “When’s your duet album with mr. country coming out huh? From all that cosying up, I’m sure it’ll be quite the romantic hit,” andrei snapped back, the bitterness evident in his tone.

Y/N, momentarily taken aback by the harshness of his accusation, regained her composure quickly. “There’s a difference between networking and outright flirting. I was being professional, which is more than I can say for you right now.”

Andrei scoffed, his frustration boiling over. “Professional, right. So all your flirty laugs and intimate chats are just you being ‘business-like’? Give me a break, Y/N:”

Her reply was sharp, cutting to the heart of their conflict. “Absolutely. And there's a clear line between professional networking at my album release and whatever game you're playing, trying to make me jealous by flirting with every guest. It's childish and unprofessional."

As the realization of how long they'd been away from the celebration dawned on them, Y/N let out a frustrated sigh, clearly annoyed by the entire situation. "Whatever, let's just get through the rest of this night," she said, rolling her eyes as she extended her hand towards him in a gesture of truce, albeit a reluctant one.

Andrei, despite his frustrations, recognized the need to present a united front. He huffed, a sound of resigned agreement, and took her hand. Both of them sighed, a moment of mutual understanding passing between them before they forced smiles onto their faces and stepped back into the celebration, ready to continue the charade for the sake of appearances.

#andrei svechnikov x y/n #andrei svechnikov fanfiction #andrei svechnikov fic #andrei svechnikov imagine #andrei svechnikov x reader #nhl fanfic #nhl fanfiction #hockey fic #hockey fanfic #Caroline hurticanes fic #Caroline hurricanes fanfic

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heartsandhischier · 26 days

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that’s hot

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heartsandhischier · 26 days

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LOVE ALL THE JAMIE STUFF!!

Omg that’s great 🥹🥹🥹 honestly it’s waaay too little of him on this app… and I can’t get him out of my head so that’s perfect 🫡

#kam chats

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heartsandhischier · 27 days

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Rink Bonds

luke hughes x female!reader

summary - 1.1k words. Figure skating reader and Michigan wolverine Luke = loveeeee

author's note - i can really see luke being like this, and i love it

warnings - none

You pushed open the heavy doors of Yost Arena, the familiar chill of the ice rink greeting you as you stepped inside. With a gap in your class schedule, you decided to make the most of it by hitting the ice for some practice. Another USFS intercollegiate competition approaching, you were determined to come out on top.

You headed to the locker room changing into your figure skating gear – black tights, a black jacket, and leg warmers – before lacing up your skates. After stowing your belongings in a locker, you grabbed your water bottle and headed to the rink. As you approached, the familiar sound of skates scraping against the ice and the clinking of hockey sticks filled your ears, indicating that you wouldn’t have the ice to yourself as you’d hoped.

Your annoyance faded, however, when you spotted the stowaway on the ice – Luke Hughes. Swiftly moving around the ice, navigating the puck as he let it fly into the net. The youngest of the famous Hughes brothers and a New Jersey Devils prospect, Luke was a familias name around the Michigan University campus, of course you knew who he was.

You had crossed paths with him a handful of times at various parties, and during your late-night practices at the rink, you’d often find him lingering after his hockey practice. Despite these encounters, you’d never engaged in more than a few awkward hellos and goodbyes. Each time he exited the rink, you’d enter, and vice versa, exchanging fleeting glances and polite nods as you passed by each other.

As you watched Luke’s graceful movements on the ice, it was as if he belonged there, the rink his natural habitat. Removing your skate guards and placing your water bottle on the bench, you elegantly glided onto the ice. The sound of skates slicing through the ice echoed in the rink as Luke paused his movements, turning his attention towards you. His warm smile greeted you as you approached. “Practice?” he offered, leaning casually on his stick.

A smile played on your lips as you nodded in agreement. “Yeah, change in my class schedule. So figured I’d put the newfound free time to good use,” you replied. “Same,” Luke chuckled. With a nod, you both resumed your routines, the sound of skates carving the ice filling the air.

For the next hour, you and Luke practiced on opposite sides of the rink, occasionally exchanging glances and playful banter. “You’re pretty good, Hughes,” you remarked, admiring his skill as he effortlessly sent the puck into the net.

“Likewise,” he laughed, skating around with ease.

As the weeks passed, you found yourself meeting again and again at the empty rink. It almost became an unspoken agreement between you and Luke, meeting at the same time between classes or during those late evenings when the campus was quiet.

With each meeting, your bond grew stronger, fueled by shared practices and playful banter. As you glided across the ice, Luke would often join you, his skates slicing through the surface so effortlessly. Despite the differences in your respective sports, you found common ground in your shared love for the rink.

You couldn’t help but laugh as Luke patiently tried to explain the nuances of hockey to you, his passion evident in every gesture. In return, you attempted to teach him the graceful movements of figure skating, guiding him through simple maneuvers with a patient hand.

“Okay, so imagine you’re gliding on air,” you explain, demonstrating a graceful spin on your skates. “Now, give it a try.”

Luke nodded eagerly, his determination shining through as he attempted to mimic your movements. Though his first attempts were a bit clumsy, you couldn’t help but admire his determination.

“Almost there,” you encouraged, stifling a laugh as he stumbled and fell onto the ice, landing on his butt with a thud.

As you focused on perfecting your flip jump, you felt a presence approaching on the ice. Turning around, you saw Luke skating towards you flashing you a charming smile. “Hey there,” he greeted, his voice carrying over the sound of skates slicing through the ice. “I was wondering if you’d like to come to my hockey game this weekend. It’s going to be a good one.”

You paused your practice, meeting his gaze with a playful smirk. “Hmm, tempting offer,” you replied, tilting your head to the side. “But only if you promise to come to my competition next week.”

Luke chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Deal,” he agreed without hesitation, extending his hand in a mock handshake.

With a wink, Luke skated backward, resuming his practice. “Can’t wait to see you there,” he called out before speeding off across the ice.

On the day of the hockey game, you found yourself seated in the stands, eagerly watching as the Michigan Wolverines took to the ice. During warmups, Luke skated to where you were seated in the stands, approaching with a smirk.

“I have a bet,” he declared, you smirked at him letting out a soft chuckle before urging him to go on. “If I score, you have to go on a date with me,” he continued, his confidence evident in his tone. Chuckling at his boldness, you accepted, “What if you don’t?” you asked. “We both know that won’t happen,” he winked before resuming his warm up.

As the game progressed, you watched in amazement as Luke displayed his skill on the ice, scoring goal after goal with precision and finesse. The puck went flying into the net, sending the crowd into a frenzy of cheers and applause. The arena echoed with the sound of the buzzer, a hat trick – this idiot scored a hat trick.

After the final buzzer sounded and the Michigan Wolverines secured a clear victory, Luke skated over to you with a triumphant grin on his face. “Well, what did you think?” he asked eagerly.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his enthusiasm, nodding in approval. “Impressive,” you admitted. “I mean, a hat trick? Way to show off,” you playfully remarked.

Luke let out a chuckle, his confidence soaring. “Thanks,” he replied, running a hand through his dark curls. “But I couldn’t have done it without a little motivation.” You raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk on your lips. "Oh, so it was all about our little bet, huh?" you teased. Luke chuckled, his gaze softening as he looked at you. "Partly," he admitted, his tone turning more sincere. "But mostly because I wanted to impress you." The admission caught you off guard, a warmth spreading through your chest. "Well, consider me impressed," you said, unable to hide the smile that tugged at your lips. As the crowd began to disperse, Luke turned to you with a hopeful expression. "So, about that date..." he trailed off, leaving the invitation hanging in the air. You pretended to mull it over for a moment, though the answer was already clear in your mind.

"I suppose I owe you one.”

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