Summary: Nico is so effected by y/n's touch he can't help that his body reacts to even to something as simple as a kiss. He's just happy she hasn't noticed....until she does notice.
Word count: 1.1k
It's not a crime to be attracted to your girlfriend. In fact, Nico would argue that it should be a criminal offence if you aren't attracted to your girlfriend.
But when something as simple as her kisses result in his dick stirring to life. That's when he knows he needs to get a grip on his self control.
It's not a bad there per se that Nico gets hard from y/n. But he also knows there's a time, a place and kisses should be able to just be a moment of affection.
An innocent moment of affection.
"I have to go out." Y/n sighs leaning over the back of the sofa where Nico is lying after getting back from a game that was pretty early in the day. He's beat after taking a big hit, not that it took him out the game but when the adrenaline drops, his body feels the ache and usually he maybe relishes in y/n spending the hours afterwards cuddling him. "No...Don't give me the big sad eyes."
"Where are you going?" Nico asks not bothering to remove the small pout.
"I'm going to the dentist. I was going to go for drinks with the girls but since you're giving me that sad puppy look, I'll rearrange with them." Y/n smiles then lowering her head to kiss him a couple times, each one making his dick stand further to attention. "I won't be long. It's just a check up with the hygienist."
Nico grumbles a little before she pecks his lips once more.
"Love you."
"Love you too." Nico nods managing a smile as she walks out and he groans once the door closes.
He'll have to take care of this before she gets back unless he wants questions about how and why he got hard.
-
"Hey." Nico smiles seeing y/n arrive at the edge of the rink, interrupting the end of practice but half of the boys are already gone anyway.
"Hi. Guess what I got." Y/n grins as she kisses him and Nico, even as he tries to focus on her words and the fact he does have teammates around him, still feels it go straight to his dick.
"What?" He asks with a dimpled smile, thankful that all his hockey gear pretty much covers any semi-hardness.
"I went to the market and got all the fresh produce that you like. I thought maybe we could try some new recipes that you were talking about the other day." Y/n smiles brightly before she leans up to kiss him again. "I always forget how much taller you are in skates."
Nico smiles taking off his gloves and moving towards her, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her. His mind distracted enough that as they exchange several short kisses that earns hoots and cheers from the few other players still on the ice.
"Are you getting hard?" Y/n whispers making Nico flush.
"I'm going to change." Nico mumbles placing y/n down while she grins. "Don't look at me like that."
"I don't even know what I did to make it happy. We just kissed-we just kissed, is that all it takes, baby?"
Nico grumbles but tries to rush his changing including a cold shower to quickly scrub the sweat away and thankfully it gets rid of his semi, even if it literally pains him.
It was only a kiss.
-
Y/n couldn't help but play into it.
Now she knows all it takes for Nico to get hard is just a kiss.
"I got you something." Y/n grins leaning over to kiss him after having answered the door to the delivery guy for a package.
"You did?" Nico hums looking like he's waiting for another kiss that she's happy to give him which gives him more of a blood rush.
"Yes." Y/n nods with a mischievous glint in her eye than makes Nico frown a little in thought of what she's bought.
Y/n wiggles away from him and tears into the packaging.
"Since you can't receive a kiss from me without getting a little hard. I think this t-shirt was necessary." Y/n declares pulling out a t-shirt and turning it around to find the phrase I'm A Slut For My Girlfriend written on the back.
Nico chokes out a laugh of shock over his girlfriend's arrogance about his physical reaction to her kisses. Not that he can blame her. If he knew that she was getting turned on from every kiss, but sadly women get the privilege of hiding that type of thing with ease.
"I'll wear it if I get a kiss." Nico hums watching her squeal in excitement and climb on him, kissing him in a very hot and heavy kiss which is far more intentional to rile him up.
Also aided by her hands gripping his current t-shirt and pulling it off of him and pushing the new one over him.
"Happy?"
"Not as happy as you are." Y/n smiles sweetly while looking down.
Nico wears the t-shirt and y/n takes joy in seeing his shorts tent any time she kisses him. It's somehow gotten worse. Though it's not as if she addresses it every time. They both acknowledge that one kiss doesn't immediately need to lead to sex, though maybe 7 out of 10 times it does.
Fans lose their minds when y/n shares a mirror selfie of her hugging Nico in his new t-shirt, one he's worn to a game but with the front being plain white, he hit the graphic under a jacket.
Not that it stopped Timo and Jack from spotting it in the locker room and taking great joy in teasing him about it.
Y/n gave him a kiss goodbye before he left, though sometimes he does think that in those brief sweet moments, which should absolutely be innocent in nature, she forget that he gets hard and he likes that. Even if he still does feel the blood rush just for being on the receiving end of her affection.
He's accepted defeat to his automatic reactions and decided that if y/n doesn't care, in fact she thinks it's "adorable" (not necessarily the way Nico would like his girlfriend to talk about his dick, but it's better than disgust) and even finds it flattering.
After the game, Nico returns home to the young woman who greets him from the sofa with open arms that he flings himself into.
"Awww my big puppy eyes teddy bear." Y/n coos scratching his back through the t-shirt. "Kiss?"
Nico smiles moving up and pecking her lips before they both decide to ignore his bulge on her thigh.
A/N: If this feels familiar, don't worry, you're not going crazy. I posted this fic about a certain player and deleted it, but I didn't want it to go to waste. I also love Nico
The movie theater near you sold little to no snacks; if they did, it would be expensive or the kind you hated. So your best friend sent you a TikTok of people pretending to be pregnant so they can sneak snacks into the movies, and you knew you had to try that.
You and your best friend, Mo, were supposed to meet your Husband Nico, at the movies to see the new Captain America movie.
The two of you sat in Mo’s car in the five-below parking lot, stuffing as many snacks as possible into the styrofoam half-balls. Mo looked up at you. “Wait, did you tell Nico that we do this?” Mo wondered, and you shook your head. “I want to get his natural reaction. Plus, he would go on about how I don’t have to worry about it because he’ll take care of me. I don’t want him wasting money on overpriced snacks for me,” you explained, placing your leggings up over the styrofoam ball to keep it in place. Mo squints her eyes towards you. “Wow, it must be so hard having a billionaire as a husband,” Mo said, making you roll your eyes.
You and Mo had a girls-only sleepover at her apartment the night before. Which gave you guys the perfect opportunity to get cheap snacks.
Mo pulled into a parking spot at the movie theater. You saw Nico waiting outside. “He’s going to die.” You laughed, fixing your three layers of tank tops. You and Mo threw your hoodies on; Of course, you were wearing one of Nico's.
When Nico noticed the styrofoam, be couldn’t take his eyes off of you and was grinning.
“Hi, bub.” You smiled, pressing a kiss on his cheek. Nico looked down at the ‘bump.’ “Why?” was all Nico was able to say. “Best way to sneak in snacks. I refuse to spend $15 on a snack and a soda that I’m going to finish before the trailers start,” you whispered, knowing that someone might narc on you. Nico placed his hands on your ‘bump.’
“Schmetterling, you know you don’t have to do this. I have money, I would’ve paid for you.”
“I know but I don’t want you wasting money.”
“Let me spoil my wife.”
You and Nico have been married for a year, and you still get butterflies when he calls you his wife or Mrs Hischier.
You pulled Nico into a chaste kiss. “I love you, bub, but it’s okay,” you assured. Nico still looked upset. “Don’t worry, I have some snacks for you,” You added.
Nico still bought you a drink because he felt guilty.
You guys stood in the lobby, waiting for Mo to find her ticket on her phone. You noticed the employee who scanned the tickets kept glancing over towards you guys. “Quick, put your arm around me, pretend we’re together,” you mumbled, placing Nico’s calloused hand on your hip. “Schmetterling, we’re married,” Nico reminded with a light. “I know. I just like hearing you say it.” You told Nico, who was grinning.
Mo grabbed onto Nico’s bicep. “Let’s go,” Mo whined, pulling Nico and you. Mo and you were a package deal; you weren’t going to date anyone who didn’t like her. You told Nico that when he asked you out during his Rookie year. The two had kept a weird friendship over the years.
Then Nico realized why the ticket girl was staring. “You don’t think that she assumes I knocked both of you up,” Nico pouted, throwing his head back. Mo scrunched her nose up. “Ew.” Mo gagged.
You ran your fingers through your husband's soft brown hair, knowing that would calm him down. “She’s not because I have proof that I won.” You smiled, wiggling your ring finger where your engagement ring and wedding band rest nicely. Nico smiled that you were wiggling the symbol of your marriage loudly and proudly.
“I’m going to throw up. Can we go? I want to see my future husband, Anthony Mackie,” Mo groaned. Nico mimicked Mo, which led them to mimic how Miley and Jackson do from Hanna Montana. You stood between them. “Stop,” you pretended to be annoyed, but you were glad that you didn’t have to worry about them hooking up behind your back.
“Now, Nico, don’t just stand there. Escort your baby mamas to the theater.”
You guys walked toward your theater when some guy accidentally bumped into you.
“Sorry,” the guy apologized. You were about to say no problem, but Nico shielded you from the guy. “Watch where you're going!” Nico scolded, poking the guy in the chest. You nervously glanced at Mo, who looked just as shocked as you. The guy looked like he was in his late 30s and was a little taller than Nico. The man put his hand up in defense. “I said I was sorry.” The guy explained.
Nico was about to say something, but stopped when he felt you squeezing his bicep. “Get out of here,” Nico muttered; the guy walked away. Nico was never the one who would pick a fight, not on or off the ice; Nico brings you a bouquet of your favorite flowers if he didn’t like the tone he used when he spoke to you.
Nico spun around, one hand cupping your cheek and the other resting on the side of your ‘bump.’ “Are you alight?” Nico wondered, his eyes piercing into yours. “I-I’m fine. I promise.” You assured, wondering what the hell has gotten into him. The entire walk to the theater, Nico wrapped his strong arm around the styrofoam as if he was protecting you and the snacks. Damn, he must really be hungry You thought.
Nico helped you into your seat before sitting in his. “Thank fuck. I’m starving.” Mo grinned, ripping her styrofoam out.
You ripped yours out and handed Nico the snacks you got for him. “Thank you, Schmetterling, but next time take my card ,” Nico mumbled before pulling you into a chaste kiss. You bumped your nose against his. “No. I have a big girl job. I can spoil my husband with snacks if I want to,” you smirked before pulling him into a lingering kiss. You thought after all these years, Nico would give up trying to pay for you, but you forgot how dedicated he is to you.
You placed the styrofoam between you and the armrest that holds the drink. You notice a sad Nico out of the corner of your eye. You gazed up at him. “What’s wrong, bub?” you wondered. Nico glanced at the styrofoam and said, “Maybe you shouold keep that on. What if an usher comes in? can’t have my wife getting in trouble.” Nico explained, You knit your eyebrows together. What the hell is going on with him? You knew he was right; you put the styrofoam back on. Nico gave a heartfelt smile and placed his hand on your thigh. You looked over at Mo, who was as confused as you were.
Throughout the whole movie, Nico kept placing his hand on the styrofoam, claiming to see an usher.
You and Mo were in the lobby, standing outside the men's bathroom, waiting for Nico.
“Okay, what the hell is going on with him?” Mo wondered, you shrugged. First, you thought he was only acting like this because he was hungry, but he was still acting weird after you fed him.
“He’s being so clingy…even for him, and it’s grossing me out,” Mo admitted. You tried to think of what could make him act like this.
The Devils were on a winning streak, so it couldn’t be that.
Nico didn’t have a bad practice yesterday; he would’ve told you.
You felt a pair of strong arms wrapped around your waist. “Ready to go home, Schmetterling?” Nico mumbled into your hair. You nodded and waved bye to Mo.
You saw Mo mouth the words call me forming her hand into a phone and putting it towards her ear. It warmed your heart knowing that even though she argues with Nico, she kind of cares about him.
When you get home, you take off the styrofoam ball and head into the kitchen to make Dinner. Nico was following you like a lost puppy.
Nico sat at the kitchen island, admiring you the whole time you made dinner. “You okay?” You wondered, draining the boiling water from the pot. “Yeah,” Nico smiled, standing up and walking towards you.
You were mixing the butter into the pasta when you felt Nico's strong arms wrapping around your waist. He slipped his hands under your shirt, holding your bare hips. “You sure you're okay?” You wonder as you continue to make dinner. “Yeah,” Nico assured, shoving his face into your neck.
Nico was placing delicate, small wet kisses on your shoulder. A sharp breath was released from your mouth when Nico placed a wet kiss on the pulse from the side of your neck.
You snapped out of his spell and pulled yourself out of his arms. “Schmetterling,” Nico whined, trying to wrap you into his arms. You caught his wrist, and you looked into his glassy eyes, the same kind he gets after sex. “Let’s talk on the couch,” you said, tugging him towards the couch.
You placed Nico down on the couch before sitting next to him. Nico looked down at his lap. “Is something wrong? You haven’t been acting like yourself since Mo, and I met you at the theaters.” You said you're starting to get worried. Nico kept staring into his lap. You noticed he was blushing.
“Are you upset about something?”
Nico shook his head
“Did something happen at practice yesterday?”
Nico shook his head
You grabbed his chin and made him look at you. “Then tell me what’s going on in that beautiful head of yours. You know I won’t judge you.” You gave him a reassuring smile.
“Let have a baby,” Nico blurted out before his brain caught up to him. You stared at him; you and Nico talked about having a family back when you were engaged. “Seeing you acting like you were pregnant. Letting people at the movies think that I put a baby in you…It drove me crazy,” Nico explained. It’s all starting to make sense: yelling at the stranger at the movies, wanting you to keep the styrofoam on during the movie, helping you into your seat. It was all because he liked seeing you pregnant.
“Imagine a mini us running around, I could teach them hockey.” Nico smiled; the idea of a toddler running around did warm your heart. On the plus side, you won’t have to deal with period cramps for nine months.
You knew you wanted kids, especially after you married Nico, but due to his crazy schedule, you thought you would have to wait to have them.
“I don’t want to force you or rush you into having them. I know my schedule is crazy, but I know our love for each other is strong and can get through anything.” Nico smiled, your eyes glossed.
You know he would be a good dad every time you see him hang out with the kids from Hockey in New Jersey (Sorry if that isn’t the name). It always made your ovaries explode.
nico x zergras reader where she’s a popstar and does the juno poses. and at a concert during the off season nico, trevor, most of the njd, and other friends are there
and somehow what she does is unexpected maybe? maybe the first show or she changes how she does it. either way it’s a big surprise and has nico blushing and everyone shocked and shit
so nico knows the song is coming right
he’s known since you played the album for him, since the setlist dropped, since trevor groaned about it in the group chat, and of course since the guys in the vip tent have been chirping him about it since they got here.
because there’s always that part of the song. the pause, that one moment where you do something. and hes seen the clips, knows how feral the internet gets everytime which honestly is bad enough. but now hes seeing it live for the first time
and you come back out for the song in a devils jersey. and not just a jersey. of course his. loose on you, sleeves too long, his name and number clear under the lights and the tent loses their minds. the guys are yelling their phones are out someone is shaking him and a fan in the crowd yells his name out like this is a home game and not a concert. some of the guys like his teammates already knew about your relationship but the others are very well shocked
trevor for his part looks pretty relieved. because yenno at least you’re clothed and you’re not about to do something insane and he assumes this is the entirety of the bit for the night. he shoots nico a look that says if we survive this ill buy us both a drink
and then you hit the break in the song and Nico’s already flustered. he’s so aware of the fans who have cameras pointed at him and everyone keeps glancing at him and his face feels so hot so he’s bracing himself for literally anything
what he’s not ready for though is you looking straight at him, not the crowd not the cameras. him.
you don’t rush it either; you find him in the tent, let it land, let everyone realize what’s happening a half second too late and then you blow him a kiss
that’s it that’s the moment and the guys explode luke spills his drink on himself jack is pointing to his phone and screaming to let nico know he caught that on camera and nicos standing there brain offline ears burning knowing with absolute certainty that every single angle of this is already on the internet
because as if the hischier jersey in prudential center wasn’t clear enough you’ve just confirmed to the whole world very clearly that you’re in a relationship with him
backstage after the show is chaos. everyone’s talking at once, teasing him, congratulating him, asking questions they definitely don’t need answers to and Trevor is oscillating between protective big brother and slight tipsy menace
and then a staff member pulls nico aside and leads him to your dressing room where miraculously, you two can get a minute alone
and then the second the door closes and it’s just you he’s different. he’s not flustered anymore, he’s relaxed, smug even
he steps closer eyes dark, lazy grin and you don’t try to play coy you just smile up at him and put your hands on his chest
and he dips his head, voice low saying you have any idea what you just did to me out there
and you hum, pretending to think gave you a little attention?
he’d probably laugh softly and lean in to kiss you like the internet isn’t on fire, like half his team (his COLLEAGUES) didn’t just witness the hardest hard launch imaginable
by morning everyone has opinions and timelines and theories and edits but Nico just rewatches the clip over and over smiles to himself and thinks yeah worth it
eure hoheit | knight!nico hischier x princess!reader
☆ summary: nico, deciding to keep serving his country, breaks his contract with the devils. he remains a soldier and climbs the ranks very quickly. one day, he’s entrusted with the most important job, ihrer hoheit princesa y/n’s personal protector. there’s just one catch - he can’t fall in love.
☆ pairing: nico hischier x reader
☆ content: forbidden love, fluff, soft!nico
☆ word count: 8.6k
☆ warnings: my german is not great
☆ note: this took me SO LONG to write. hope you enjoy <3
☆ listen to this for the best experience
The fluorescent lights of the Prudential Center's home team corridor hummed their familiar tune as Nico Hischier sat alone in full gear, his #13 jersey pristine against the scuffed wooden bench. Outside, twenty thousand fans cheered for warm-ups, their voices a distant roar that had once made his heart sing. Now, it only made his chest tighten with something like grief.
His phone sat face-up on the bench beside him, the email still open. Subject line: Contract Extension Negotiations - Final Offer.
Seven years. Ninety-eight million dollars. Full no-movement clause. The captaincy secured for the remainder of his prime.
Everything he'd worked for since he was six years old.
"You coming out there, Cap, or are you planning to win this game from the locker room?"
Nico looked up to find Jack Hughes leaning against the doorframe, his eyes bright with pre-game energy.
"Two minutes," Nico said, his accent thickening the way it always did when his emotions ran high. "I need two minutes."
Jack's smile faltered. "You good? You've been weird all week." He paused, his gaze dropping to the phone. "Is it contract stuff? Because if Fitzgerald is lowballing you, we'll riot. Literally. I'll organize it myself."
"No, it's..." Nico picked up the phone, thumb hovering over the screen. "It's good. Very good. More than fair."
"Then what’s eating you?"
Nico huffed a laugh despite himself. "Nothing."
Jack stepped fully into the room, letting the door swing shut behind him. The crowd noise dimmed to a muffled pulse. "Talk to me. You're my captain. But you're also my friend, man. What's going on?"
Nico set the phone down and started unlacing his skates slowly, trying to find the right words. How could he explain to someone who had always been meant for NHL stardom, whose whole life was hockey, that sometimes the rink felt too small? That sometimes, late at night, he still remembered holding the SIG SG 550 and the sense of purpose that came from serving something bigger than himself?
"Do you remember 2020?" Nico asked finally. "When I went home for mandatory service?"
Jack frowned. "Yeah, of course. Pandemic year."
Nico pulled off his right skate. "Everyone thought I was crazy. My agent, the team, the media. Why not defer? Why not get an exemption? I was the first overall pick. I had responsibilities here."
"But you went anyway," Jack said quietly.
"I went anyway." Nico reached for his left skate. "And something happened while I was there. Something I didn't expect."
"What?"
Nico looked up, meeting Jack's eyes. "I found out who I was when I wasn't a hockey player."
The words hung between them. Outside, the crowd began a rhythmic stomp that shook the walls. The Devils wanted their captain. The Devils needed their captain.
"Nico-"
"I'm not re-signing, Jack."
The younger man physically recoiled, as if Nico had slapped him. "What? No. No, you're not. You can't be serious. This is your team. You're the captain. You're the best thing that's happened to this franchise since-"
"Since you," Nico interrupted gently. "And Jesper. And Dawson. And all the others. The team doesn't need me anymore. Not really. You're ready."
"Ready for what?" Jack's voice cracked. "Ready to watch you walk away? Ready to tell the guys that our captain, the guy who taught me what leadership actually means, decided that we aren't worth it?"
Nico stood abruptly, his skates dangling from his hand. "It's not about worth, Jack. It's about duty. There are things happening in the world, things bigger than hockey, and I have skills that could make a difference."
"So go be a spokesperson. Do charity work. Pull a Crosby and show up at military bases for photo ops." Jack was pacing now, his stick clattering against the benches. "You don't have to throw away your entire career."
"I'm not throwing it away. I'm choosing something else."
"Choosing to what? Go play soldier? This isn't a game, Nico. This is your life."
"Exactly." Nico's voice came out harder than he intended. "My life. Not the team's. Not the league's. Mine."
The door burst open and Timo Meier stuck his head in, his expression annoyed. "Are you two coming or-" He stopped, reading the room. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," Nico said.
"He's quitting," Jack said simultaneously.
Timo went very still. "Quitting what?"
"Hockey," Jack spat the word. "Apparently, we're not exciting enough. He'd rather go march around in the Swiss Alps with a gun."
"Jack-" Nico started.
"Is this true?" Timo asked.
Nico couldn't look at him. "I haven't made a final decision."
"Liar." Jack's voice was quiet now, which was somehow worse than the yelling. "You've already decided. That's why you look like that. You've already made up your mind, and now you're just waiting for the right time to break all our hearts."
"The season ends in three weeks," Nico said, forcing himself to meet their eyes. "I'll finish out my contract. I'll give everything I have until the final buzzer. And then-"
"And then you abandon us." Jack shook his head. "Cool. Great. Good to know where we stand."
He pushed past Timo and walked down the corridor. The sound of his skates on the concrete echoed behind him.
Timo stayed in the doorway, his expression unreadable. Finally, he said, "Is this about Valais?"
Nico looked up quickly. During his service, he had spent time in the Valais canton, helping with disaster relief after avalanches. He had pulled a family of four from a collapsed chalet, working through the night in freezing temperatures. He’d saved eleven people that week. Eleven lives that had nothing to do with goals or assists or playoff runs.
"It's about a lot of things," Nico said carefully.
"You saved those people because you were there. Because you had the training and the strength and the will." Timo stepped fully into the room, letting the door close again. "But you know what got you that strength? What gave you that will?"
"Timo-"
"Hockey, Nico. This game made you who you are. The discipline, the teamwork, the ability to perform under pressure. You didn't learn that in the army. You learned it here." He gestured around the locker room. "You learned it from your father, skating at dawn before school. You learned it from every coach who pushed you, every teammate who trusted you."
"I know that."
"Do you? Because it sounds like you're trying to convince yourself that this life meant nothing. That we mean nothing."
"You mean everything," Nico said fiercely. "This team, this game, it's shaped my entire life. But maybe that's the problem. Maybe I need to find out what else I can be."
"The Swiss Army doesn't just let professional athletes waltz back in and climb the ranks, you know. There are protocols. Commitments."
"I know."
"You've already contacted them, haven't you?"
Nico's silence was answer enough.
"Christ, Nico." Timo ran a hand through his hair. "When?"
"Three months ago. Just exploratory conversations at first. But then they mentioned an opportunity. Something specialized. They said they needed someone with my... particular combination of skills."
"What kind of opportunity?"
"I can't talk about it."
Timo looked at him for a long time. Nico could tell he was thinking about the secrecy, the timing, and the way Nico already seemed resigned to his choice.
"Does it matter?" Timo asked finally. "Whether I try to change your mind?"
"No," Nico said honestly. "But I hope you'll try anyway. I hope you'll all try, because it'll make this real. It'll remind me what I'm giving up."
"That's messed up, man."
"I know."
Timo moved to the bench and sat down heavily, his stick clattering to the floor. "How long have you known?"
"That I wasn't going to re-sign? Since January. Since the call came."
"The call."
"From Bern. From the Kommando Spezialkräfte command."
Timo's eyes widened. "The KSK? Nico, that's, those are special forces. That's not serving your country. That's-"
"I know what it is."
"Do you? Because those guys don't play games. They don't get summers off. They don't sign autographs and do charity golf tournaments."
"I know."
"You could die."
"People die playing hockey too."
"That's not the same, and you know it."
Nico bent to retrieve his skates, lacing them back up with practiced efficiency. "We have a game to play. Twenty thousand people paid to watch us play hockey, not have therapy sessions."
"Nico-"
"Please, Timo. Please just, let me have this. Let me finish the season as a hockey player. Let me be your captain just a little longer. And then we can fight about it. We can yell and argue and you can tell me I'm making the biggest mistake of my life. But right now, I need to go out there and do my job."
Timo watched him finish lacing up, his jaw working like he was physically holding back words. Finally, he stood and picked up his stick.
"You're still my captain," he said. "On the ice and off. That doesn't change just because you're being an idiot."
"Thanks, I think."
"And Nico?" Timo paused at the door. "Whatever this specialized opportunity is, whatever they want you for, be careful. The army isn't hockey. You don't get to respawn after a bad shift."
"I'll be careful."
"Liar," Timo said, echoing Jack's words. But this time, there was something almost fond in it. "You've never been careful a day in your life."
He left, and Nico was alone again with the muffled roar of the crowd and the weight of his choice.
His phone buzzed. Another text, this time from his mother.
Liebling, your father and I are so proud. Whatever you decide, we support you. But please, call us. Let us hear your voice. Let us know you're certain.
He wasn't certain. That was the hell of it. How could anyone be certain about throwing away the dream they'd chased since childhood? How could anyone be sure that the path not taken was the right one?
But certainty wasn't the point. Purpose was.
Nico stood, rolled his shoulders, and reached for his helmet. Through the walls, he could hear the announcer beginning player introductions. Could hear the roar that went up when they called Jack's name, then Timo's.
"And your captain, number thirteen, from Naters, Switzerland: Nico Hischier!"
The sound was deafening, worshipful, home.
Nico took a breath, opened the door, and skated into the light.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･
A few weeks later, the season ended not with glory but with a gentleman's sweep in the second round. Five games against the Canes, each one closer than the last, each one a reminder that this team was good but not yet great. They needed another year, maybe two. They needed time to develop chemistry, to learn how to win when it mattered most.
They needed their captain.
After Game 5, the locker room was quiet except for the sounds of players taking off their gear and cutting away tape. Nico sat in his stall, still in uniform, letting the moment sink in. This was the last time he would wear this jersey, see this crest, and be with these teammates.
Sheldon Keefe, their head coach, stood in the center of the room, his weathered face carved with lines that spoke of a thousand games coached, a thousand lessons learned.
"Gentlemen," he said, his voice rough. "Hell of a season. Hell of a fight. You've got nothing to be ashamed of."
Silence.
"We're young. We're getting better. And next year…" He paused, his eyes finding Nico's. "Next year, we'll be back here, and we'll be ready."
More silence. Everyone knew. Somehow, word had spread, probably through Jack, who'd barely spoken to Nico in three weeks, and now the whole room knew that their captain was leaving. That there wouldn't be a next year, not with Nico wearing the C.
Keefe cleared his throat. "Hischier. Got something to say?"
Nico stood slowly, his legs shaking in a way they never did on the ice. Every eye in the room turned to him, Jack's angry and hurt, Timo's resigned and sad, Jesper's confused, Dawson's betrayed.
"I…" His voice cracked. He tried again. "I'm sorry."
"Sorry for what?" Jack asked, his tone sharp. "Sorry for quitting on us, or sorry you got caught?"
"Jack-" Timo started.
"No, he deserves to hear it. We all do." Jack stood, his hair still wet from the shower, his eyes blazing. "You're our captain, Nico. You're supposed to lead us. You're supposed to be the guy who shows us how to be better, how to fight through adversity, how to never give up. And instead, what? You're giving up."
"I'm not giving up," Nico said quietly. "I'm choosing differently."
"That's the same thing!"
"It's not." Nico looked around the room, meeting each player's eyes in turn. "I love this team. I love this game. But I can't be the man you need me to be if I don't know who I am outside of hockey."
"That's lies," Gritsyuk muttered.
"Maybe it is," Nico agreed. "But it's mine. My choice. My life."
"What about our lives?" Jesper Bratt spoke up. "What about what we need? We built this team around you, Nico. You and Jack. You're the foundation."
"Jack is the foundation," Nico corrected. "I was just keeping the seat warm until he was ready."
"Don't put this on me," Jack snapped. "Don't you dare make me the reason you're abandoning us."
"I'm not-"
"Yes, you are! You're standing there acting like you're doing us some kind of favor, like you're nobly stepping aside, when really you're just…" Jack's voice broke. "You're just leaving."
The room fell silent again. Nico felt something crack in his chest, felt the weight of every eye, every judgment, every disappointed heart.
"You're right," he said finally. "I am leaving. And I know that hurts. I know it feels like betrayal. But I need you to understand something, all of you. This isn't about hockey not being enough. It's about me needing to know that I'm more than a hockey player."
"Why?" Dawson Mercer asked, genuinely confused. "Why do you need to be more? You're already the best captain in the league. You're already leading us to-"
"To what?" Nico interrupted. "To second-round exits? To 'good but not great'? You don't need me for that. You need someone who wants this more than anything else in the world. Someone who doesn't lie awake at night wondering if there's a bigger purpose."
"And you think the military is a bigger purpose than this?" Jack gestured around the room. "Than us?"
"I think it's a different purpose. One I need to explore."
Keefe stepped forward, his hand landing on Nico's shoulder. "You served during the pandemic. You fulfilled your duty. Why go back?"
"Because they asked," Nico said simply. "Because they have a job that needs doing, and they think I'm the right person for it."
"What job?"
"I can't say."
Keefe studied him for a long moment, and Nico saw recognition flicker in the old coach's eyes. He'd been around long enough to recognize classified when he saw it, to understand that some things couldn't be spoken aloud.
"When do you leave?" Keefe asked.
"Tomorrow."
The room erupted.
"Tomorrow?!"
"Are you kidding me?"
"We don't even get a proper goodbye?"
Nico weathered the storm, standing still while anger and hurt crashed over him. He deserved it. All of it.
When the noise finally died down, Timo stood and moved to Nico's side, a united front even in disagreement.
"Listen," Timo said, his voice cutting through the tension. "We can be pissed at him. We can think he's making a mistake. But he's still our captain until midnight tonight, and he deserves better than this."
"He deserves what he's giving us," Jack shot back. "Nothing."
"Jack-"
"No, I'm done. I'm done pretending this is okay. I'm done acting like it's noble or brave or whatever plastic spin we're supposed to put on it." Jack grabbed his bag and headed for the door. "Good luck with your new mission, Cap. Hope it's worth it."
The door slammed behind him.
One by one, the others filtered out, some offering handshakes, some unable to meet Nico's eyes, some crying openly. Within twenty minutes, only Nico, Timo, and Keefe remained.
"You're breaking that kid's heart," Keefe said quietly. "You know that, right?"
"I know."
"He looks up to you. More than anyone. His whole family, his brothers, his parents, they all talk about how you took him under your wing. How you made him better."
"He made himself better. I just showed him it was possible."
"And now you're showing him it's possible to quit."
The words hit like a slap shot to the chest. "That's not-"
"Isn't it?" Keefe's expression was sad, not angry. "From his perspective? From all their perspectives? You're the guy who worked harder than everyone, who never complained, who always put the team first. And now you're choosing something else. How is that not quitting?"
Nico had no answer.
Timo spoke up. "It's not quitting if you're choosing to serve your country. It's not quitting if you're answering a calling."
"It's quitting this team," Keefe said bluntly. "And that's what they'll remember. Not the goals or the assists or the leadership. They'll remember that when things got hard, when the team needed you most, you chose to walk away."
"That's not fair," Nico said, but there was no heat in it.
"Life's not fair, kid. You of all people should know that." Keefe grabbed his clipboard and headed for the door. "For what it's worth, I think you're making a mistake. But I also think you know that. And I think you're doing it anyway because you're stubborn and idealistic and you've convinced yourself that suffering through this choice somehow makes it the right one."
He paused at the door. "Your new employers are lucky to have you. Just make sure you're not doing this to prove something to yourself. That's a terrible reason to throw away the best thing in your life."
Then he was gone, and it was just Nico and Timo in the empty locker room.
"He's not wrong," Timo said after a long silence.
"I know."
"You could still change your mind. Call Bern. Tell them you made a mistake."
"I didn't make a mistake."
"Then why do you look so miserable?"
Nico sank back onto the bench, his head in his hands. "Because loving something and needing to leave it aren't mutually exclusive."
Timo sat beside him, their shoulders touching the way they had a thousand times before. "Tell me about the mission. Even if you can't give me details, tell me why."
"Do you remember, I told you about Valais, when I pulled that little girl out of the snow? Maria, I think her name was. She was maybe six years old."
"I remember."
"She grabbed my hand when we lifted her out. Wouldn't let go the whole way to the hospital. Just held on like I was the only solid thing in her world."
"You saved her life, Nico."
"I know. And it felt, Timo, it felt more important than any goal I've ever scored. More real. Like I was finally doing something that mattered beyond the next game, the next season."
"Hockey matters," Timo said quietly. "To those kids in the crowd tonight. To the guys in this room. To everyone who watches and dreams."
"I know that too. But it matters to them. This, the thing in Bern, the mission they're offering, it matters to me. And I think I need to find out what it feels like to do something that's mine. Not the team's. Not the fans'. Mine."
Timo nodded slowly. "Okay."
"Okay?"
"Yeah. I don't like it. I think you're being an idiot. But I understand it." He stood and offered Nico his hand. "Promise me something, though."
"Anything."
"Don't die. Because if you die doing some classified crap in the mountains, I'm going to be really pissed at you."
Nico took his hand and pulled himself up. "I promise not to die."
"And write to me. I don't care if it has to be in code or whatever. Just let me know you're alive."
"I will."
They stood there for a moment, two friends who'd been through everything together, now standing at a crossroads where only one of them could continue.
"For what it's worth," Timo said, "I think you'll be a great soldier. You were always too selfless for hockey anyway."
"That's not true."
"It is, though. The best captains are selfish. They want the Cup more than anything. They're willing to sacrifice everything, relationships, health, ethics, whatever, to win. But you? You'd sacrifice the Cup if it meant saving one person. That makes you a good man, Nico. But it doesn't make you a champion."
The words could have hurt, but instead, they felt like a kind of relief. It was permission to be himself, not just what others expected.
"Thank you," Nico said.
"For what?"
"For getting it. Even when you don't agree."
Timo smiled sadly. "That's what brothers do."
They embraced, a long, tight hug that said everything they couldn't put into words. Then Timo grabbed his bag and headed for the door.
"Hey, Timo?"
"Yeah?"
"Take care of Jack for me. He's going to need someone."
"I will. But Nico? He's not going to forgive you. Not for a long time."
"I know."
"Good. As long as you know what you're losing."
Then he was gone, and Nico was left alone with his memories and thoughts about all the games and choices in his past.
He looked around the locker room one last time, at his nameplate, at his stall, at the C hanging from his jersey. He thought about taking it, keeping it as a reminder. But that felt dishonest somehow. That letter belonged to the team, not to him.
So he just walked away, turning off the lights behind him and leaving the Prudential Center dark.
Outside, the New Jersey night was warm and sticky, the kind of weather that promised summer was coming. Nico stood in the parking lot, his duffel bag slung over his shoulder, and looked up at the arena one last time.
His phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number, just one word. Bereit?
Nico typed back. Ja
The response was immediate. Gut. Ihr Flug nach Zürich startet um 06:00 Uhr. Ein Wagen wird Sie um 04:30 Uhr abholen. Bringen Sie nichts mit, was Sie nicht tragen können. Alles andere wird gestellt.
Nico pocketed his phone and headed for his apartment, where he'd already packed everything that mattered into a single duffel bag. His passport, his Swiss ID card, a photo of his family, and a puck from his first NHL goal.
Everything else, the awards, the jerseys, the memories, he was leaving behind.
Because the thing about starting over, Nico had learned, was that you couldn't take the old life with you. You had to let it go completely, or you'd never be free to become someone new.
Tomorrow, he would climb into that car and fly to Switzerland and begin a journey that would test him in ways hockey never had.
Tomorrow, he would stop being Captain Nico Hischier and start being Private Hischier.
Tomorrow, everything would change.
But tonight, for just a few more hours, he was still a hockey player. Still wore the weight of that C, even if only in memory.
And he let himself mourn.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･
Eighteen Months Later
The alpine wind cut through the valley like a knife, carrying with it the scent of pine and snow and cordite. Hauptmann Nico Hischier, Captain Hischier, although it meant something different now, lay prone on the rocky outcrop, his SIG MCX Rattler pressed to his shoulder, his breathing controlled and measured.
Below, in the simulated hostage situation, his team moved with the precision of a Swiss watch. Four operators, each one selected from the absolute best the Swiss Armed Forces had to offer, each one willing to die for the others.
Each one now under Nico's command.
"Viper Two, status," Nico murmured into his radio, his Swiss German crisp and professional.
"In position, over. Clear line to the primary target."
"Viper Three?"
"Ready on your mark, Hauptmann."
Eighteen months. That's how long it had taken to go from promising recruit to commanding officer of one of the most elite units in the KSK. Eighteen months of training that made his hockey conditioning look like a warm-up skate. Eighteen months of learning to kill efficiently, to make impossible decisions, to carry the weight of lives that depended on his judgment.
Eighteen months since he'd watched a hockey game, spoken to his former teammates, or thought seriously about the life he'd left behind.
"Execute," Nico said calmly.
The operation unfolded like poetry, breaching charges, flash-bangs, precise movements, simulated hostages extracted with zero casualties. Nico watched through his scope, tracking every movement, every decision, ready to provide covering fire if needed.
Not needed. His team was perfect.
"All clear," came the call. "Hostages secure. Zero friendly casualties."
Nico allowed himself a small smile. "Solid work. Extract and rendezvous at Point Charlie for debrief."
He was packing up his rifle when the radio crackled again, this time with a different voice. "Hauptmann Hischier, this is Command. You are to report to Colonel Weber immediately upon return to base. Repeat, immediately. Priority Alpha."
Priority Alpha. That meant classified. That meant something big.
"Acknowledged, Command. ETA forty minutes."
The drive back to the base at Isone was quiet. Nico's team, sensing his distraction, left him alone with his thoughts. Through the window, the Swiss Alps rose like cathedrals. Somewhere out there, on the other side of the world, the NHL season was starting. The Devils were probably watching from home again, still rebuilding, still learning.
He wondered if they ever thought about him. He wondered if Jack had forgiven him yet.
He wondered why it still hurt to wonder.
"Sir?" His driver, a young corporal named Fuchs, glanced at him in the rearview mirror. "You look concerned. Is everything alright?"
"Just thinking, Fuchs."
"About the mission?"
"About choices."
Fuchs nodded sagely, though at twenty-two he probably had no idea what Nico meant. "My father always says the hardest choices are the ones where both answers are right. It's easier when one option is clearly wrong."
"Your father sounds wise."
"He's a postman in Lucerne," Fuchs said with a grin. "But he reads a lot."
Despite everything, Nico laughed.
Colonel Weber was waiting in his office when Nico arrived, still in tactical gear, smelling of gunpowder and mountain air. The Colonel was a stern man in his late fifties, with iron-gray hair and eyes that had seen things he would never speak about. He'd been the one to approve Nico's transfer to the KSK, the one who'd taken a chance on an athlete with no formal military background beyond basic service.
"Hauptmann," Weber said without preamble. "Sit."
Nico sat, his posture automatic and correct.
"Your performance continues to exceed expectations," Weber continued. "Your team has the highest success rate in simulations, your tactical assessments are consistently sound, and your men would follow you into hell."
"Thank you, sir."
"Don't thank me yet. I'm about to ask you to prove all of that in a way you're not going to like."
Nico waited.
Weber opened a file on his desk, an actual physical file, which meant whatever this was, it wasn't staying on any servers. "Are you familiar with the House of Hohenberg?"
"The... the royal family?" Nico's brow furrowed. "I thought Switzerland didn't have royalty."
"We don't. They do."
"Sir?"
Weber slid a photograph across the desk. It showed a young woman, maybe twenty-four or twenty-five, with dark hair pulled back in an elegant twist, gray eyes that seemed to see through the camera, and a bearing that suggested she'd been trained from birth to carry weight.
"Ihre Hoheit Prinzessin Y/N of Hohenberg," Weber said. "Crown Princess of Liechtenstein."
Nico stared at the photo. Liechtenstein. The tiny principality nestled in the Rhine Valley, technically independent but with deep ties to Switzerland through defense and economic agreements.
"She's beautiful," Nico said, then immediately regretted it. "I mean, she looks, why are you showing me this, sir?"
Weber's expression didn't change. "Three weeks ago, we intercepted communications suggesting a credible threat against the Princess's life. The details are classified, but the gist is this: someone wants her dead, and they have the resources to make it happen."
"The Liechtenstein police-"
"Are capable but limited. This threat operates at an international level. It requires expertise and resources they don't possess." Weber leaned back in his chair. "The Prince Regent has personally requested that Switzerland provide a protective detail. Specifically, he has requested our most capable operator."
The pieces clicked into place. "No."
"Yes."
"Sir, I'm not a bodyguard. I'm a tactical operator. I breach buildings and extract hostages. I don't stand around in a suit looking intimidating."
"You will for this assignment."
"There has to be someone better suited for this."
"There isn't." Weber's voice was final. "You have the tactical skills. You have the physical capability. You have the mental discipline. And perhaps most importantly, you have the public profile."
"My what?"
"Hauptmann, you were the captain of an NHL team. You're recognizable, which means anyone trying to approach the Princess with you nearby will know they're being watched by someone capable. It's a deterrent."
"It's also a target on my back."
"Yes. Which is why you'll be provided with a full support team. But the primary responsibility, of being her shadow, her shield, her last line of defense, that's yours."
Nico looked down at the photograph again. Prinzessin Y/N stared back at him, her expression serene and composed. She looked like someone who'd never had a choice about her life, someone who'd been told from birth exactly who she was supposed to be.
He knew that feeling.
"How long?" he asked.
"Indefinite. Until the threat is neutralized or until she no longer requires protection."
"That could be years."
"It could be decades."
"Sir-"
"I know what I'm asking, Hauptmann. I know this isn't what you signed up for. But the Prince Regent specifically requested you by name. He's seen your file, your record. He wants the best, and right now, that's you."
Nico sat back, his mind racing. This wasn't a combat mission. This wasn't what he'd left hockey for. Standing around in formal settings, attending state dinners, playing dress-up soldier while real operators did real work, it sounded like a nightmare.
But then he looked at the photograph again and saw something in Prinzessin Y/N's eyes. A kind of loneliness. A weight.
"What's she like?" he asked. "Personally?"
Weber hesitated. "I've never met her. But the reports suggest she's... complicated. Brilliant, by all accounts. Speaks six languages. Studied international relations at Oxford. But also isolated. The role of Crown Princess doesn't leave much room for friendship or trust."
"Meaning she might not want a bodyguard."
"Meaning she definitely doesn't want a bodyguard. Which is why this will be challenging."
Nico closed his eyes, thinking of Jack's angry words in that locker room. You're just leaving. Thinking of Timo's sad smile. Don't die. Thinking of his own voice, brave and certain: I'm choosing differently.
This was different. This was service. This was protecting someone who couldn't protect herself.
But it was also standing still. Watching instead of acting. Being present instead of leading.
"Is there a choice here, sir?" Nico asked quietly. "Or are you just being polite?"
Weber almost smiled. "There's always a choice, Hauptmann. But some choices have consequences that make them less appealing than others. If you decline, you'll continue in your current role. No black mark on your record. No punishment. But you'll also know that you turned down a direct request from an allied head of state, and that might affect future opportunities."
"So, not really a choice."
"Not really, no."
Nico stood, came to attention. "When do I start?"
"Tomorrow. A helicopter will take you to Vaduz. You'll meet with the Prince Regent and his security team, undergo a briefing on protocols and threat assessment, and then you'll be introduced to Prinzessin Y/N."
"Does she know I'm coming?"
"She knows someone is coming. She doesn't know it's you."
"Because?"
"Because the Prince Regent thought it best not to give her time to object. She's... strong-willed."
"Fantastic," Nico muttered.
Weber stood as well, extending his hand. "For what it's worth, Hauptmann, I think you're the right choice for this. You have a rare combination of humility and competence. You'll keep her safe."
"Keeping her safe is one thing, sir. Keeping her from hating me might be harder."
"Probably. But that's why you make the big money."
Nico snorted. "I make the same as every other Hauptmann, sir."
"Then I guess you're doing it for the glory."
They shook hands, and Nico turned to leave. At the door, he paused.
"Sir? The file mentioned one more thing. About the assignment."
Weber's expression grew carefully neutral. "Yes?"
"It mentioned a... stipulation. About personal involvement."
"Ah. Yes." Weber cleared his throat. "The Prince Regent was very clear. Your job is to protect Prinzessin Y/N. Not to befriend her. Not to advise her. And absolutely, under no circumstances, are you to develop romantic feelings for her."
"That's an unusual condition."
"The Princess is in line for the throne. Any romantic entanglement with someone of your... background... would be politically complicated."
"You mean someone who's not nobility."
"I mean someone who, six months ago, was shooting targets in a training facility and not attending diplomatic functions. The distinction matters in her world."
Nico nodded slowly. "Understood, sir. Professional distance at all times."
"Exactly. You're there to keep her alive, Hauptmann. Not to fall in love with her."
"That shouldn't be a problem, sir. I'm very good at following orders."
Weber raised an eyebrow. "Are you? Because your file suggests you left a multi-million dollar contract to follow your conscience instead. That doesn't exactly scream 'good at following orders.'"
"That was different."
"Was it?"
Nico had no answer to that.
He saluted, received Weber's return salute, and walked out into the fading alpine sunset, wondering what the hell he'd just agreed to.
Behind him, in the office, Weber returned to his desk and pulled out another file. This one had no photographs, only dense text and redacted sections.
At the top, in bold letters: OPERATION HOHENBERG - THREAT ASSESSMENT - EYES ONLY
And below that, in smaller text: Note: Principal subject unaware of full scope of threat. Maintain operational security at all costs. Protective detail must remain vigilant for internal as well as external threats.
Weber closed the file and locked it in his safe.
Some things, he'd decided, the Hauptmann didn't need to know yet.
Some things would only make the job harder.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･
The helicopter touched down on the immaculate lawn of Schloss Vaduz just as the sun broke over the eastern peaks, painting the castle in shades of gold and rose. Nico had seen beautiful things in his life, but there was something almost painfully pristine about this place, like a postcard come to life.
"Hauptmann Hischier?" A man in an impeccable dark suit waited at the landing pad, his posture suggesting military background despite the civilian clothes. "I am Herr Dietrich, Chief of the Princess's household staff. If you'll follow me, His Serene Highness is waiting."
Nico grabbed his single duffel bag, everything he owned, just like when he'd left New Jersey, and followed Dietrich across the lawn. The castle loomed above them, all white stone and red tile roofs, flags snapping in the mountain breeze. Somewhere inside those walls was a woman who didn't know her life was about to change.
Join the club, Nico thought.
The Prince Regent received him in a study that looked like it had been furnished in the 1700s and hadn't been updated since. Prince Maximilian von und zu Liechtenstein was in his early sixties, with the kind of aristocratic features that suggested centuries of careful breeding. His handshake was firm, his eyes assessing.
"Hauptmann Hischier. Thank you for coming on such short notice."
"Your Serene Highness." Nico bowed slightly, the way Weber had coached him on the helicopter ride. "I'm honored to serve."
"Please, sit. Coffee?"
"Thank you, yes."
They settled into leather chairs that probably cost more than Nico's first car. An attendant materialized with a silver service, poured, and disappeared without a word.
"I suppose you're wondering why I requested you specifically," the Prince Regent began.
"The thought crossed my mind, sir."
"I saw you play, you know. Two years ago, when the Devils came to Zurich for preseason. My grandson is a hockey fan, insisted we attend." The Prince smiled slightly. "You scored twice. But what impressed me was the third period, when one of your teammates was injured. You were everywhere, blocking shots, killing penalties, leading by example. I remember thinking, 'That's a man who understands duty.'"
Nico shifted uncomfortably. "That was just hockey, sir."
"Was it? Because from what I understand, you walked away from that life to serve your country. That suggests it was never 'just' anything."
"With respect, sir, protecting a hockey puck and protecting a person are very different things."
"Are they?" The Prince set down his cup. "Both require discipline. Both require putting yourself between danger and what you're trying to protect. Both require split-second decisions that can determine success or failure."
"A failed save in hockey means a goal against. A failed save in my current line of work means someone dies."
"Exactly. Which is why I need someone who understands the weight of that responsibility." The Prince leaned forward. "Hauptmann, my daughter is the most important person in this principality. When I die, which, God willing, won't be for many years, she will be the sovereign ruler of Liechtenstein. She will make decisions that affect 39,000 people. She will negotiate treaties, manage our economy, represent us on the world stage. She is, quite literally, irreplaceable."
"I understand, sir."
"I don't think you do. Not yet." The Prince stood and walked to the window, gazing out over the valley below. "Y/N was eight years old when her mother died. A car accident, black ice, a curve taken too fast, wrong place at the wrong time. Since then, she has been preparing for a role she never wanted, carrying a burden she never asked for. And she has done it with grace and dignity and absolutely no complaint."
"She sounds remarkable."
"She is. She's also stubborn, independent, and deeply resentful of anything she perceives as restrictions on her freedom." The Prince turned back to face Nico. "Which brings us to the current problem. Three weeks ago, we received credible intelligence that someone intends to harm her. We don't know who, we don't know exactly when, but we know the threat is real. And when I told Y/N she would be assigned a personal protection officer, she told me 'I would rather take my chances with an assassin than have some military thug following me around like a shadow.'"
Nico couldn't help it. He laughed. The Prince raised an eyebrow, and Nico quickly composed himself. "I'm sorry, sir. That was inappropriate."
"No, it was honest. Which is refreshing." The Prince almost smiled. "She's going to make your life hell, Hauptmann. You should know that going in."
"I've dealt with difficult personalities before, sir. NHL locker rooms aren't exactly known for being easy."
"Did any of your teammates have the authority to have you fired with a single phone call?"
"Well. No."
"Y/N does. She can't override my decision to assign you, I am still the Prince Regent, after all, but she can make working conditions so unpleasant that you'll want to quit. And she will try. Not because she dislikes you personally, but because she dislikes the idea of you."
"The idea of being protected."
"The idea of being controlled. To Y/N, a bodyguard isn't safety, it's a leash. Another reminder that her life isn't her own, that she can't make decisions without someone looking over her shoulder, that she's valuable as a symbol rather than as a person."
Nico was quiet for a moment, thinking about what the Prince was really saying. "You want me to protect her. But you also want me to help her accept being protected."
"I want you to keep her alive, Hauptmann. How you accomplish that is up to you." The Prince returned to his chair. "But I will tell you this: if you treat her like a fragile object to be guarded, she will rebel. If you treat her like a duty to be endured, she will sense it and respond accordingly. Your best chance of success is to remember that underneath the title, underneath the training and the protocol, she's a twenty-five-year-old woman who just wants to be treated like a human being."
"That seems reasonable."
"You'd think so. But you'd be surprised how many people forget." The Prince checked his watch. "She's currently in her morning language lesson, Mandarin, I believe. She'll be finished in twenty minutes, at which point Herr Dietrich will bring her here for the introduction. Any questions?"
About a thousand, Nico thought. But he settled for: "What does she know about the threat?"
"Very little. We've kept the details classified to avoid panic. She knows there have been 'concerns' but doesn't understand the severity."
"So I'm going to be a constant reminder of danger she doesn't fully comprehend."
"Yes."
"That's going to go well."
The Prince actually smiled this time. "I like you, Hauptmann. You're refreshingly direct for someone about to work in a royal household. Try to hold onto that. The palace has a way of making people forget how to be honest."
Twenty minutes later, Nico stood at attention as the study door opened and Herr Dietrich entered, followed by a young woman who managed to make simple athletic wear look somehow regal.
Prinzessin Y/N was smaller than he'd expected from the photographs, maybe five-foot-six, with her dark hair pulled back in a ponytail that suggested she hadn't bothered with formality for a language lesson. But her eyes, those gray eyes that had seemed penetrating in the photo, were even more striking in person. They swept over Nico with the kind of assessment that came from a lifetime of evaluating people within seconds.
She did not look impressed.
"Y/N, darling," the Prince Regent began, "this is-"
"I know who he is." Her voice was cultured, her English perfect but accented with the particular melody of German-speakers who'd learned the language young. "Nico Hischier. First overall pick, 2017. Captain of the New Jersey Devils until he quit to play soldier. The Swiss papers wouldn't shut up about it for months."
Nico blinked. He hadn't expected her to recognize him.
"I follow hockey," she said, as if reading his thoughts. "Or I did, before my schedule became too insane to watch anything recreational. You were good. Talented playmaker, excellent in the faceoff circle, surprisingly physical for your size." She turned to her father. "Is this a joke?"
"I assure you, it's not."
"You're assigning me a bodyguard who's famous? Someone every hockey fan in Central Europe will recognize on sight? How exactly is that supposed to keep me safe?"
"Hauptmann Hischier's profile is part of his value," the Prince said calmly. "His presence will be noticed, which serves as a deterrent."
"Or it makes me an even bigger target." Y/N crossed her arms. "This is ridiculous, Father. I don't need a babysitter."
"You need protection."
"I need privacy. I need autonomy. I need to be able to do my job without some," she gestured at Nico, "some athlete hovering over me constantly."
"I'm not an athlete anymore, Your Highness," Nico said quietly. It was the first time he'd spoken since she entered, and both she and her father looked at him in surprise. "I'm a soldier. And my job is to keep you safe, whether you want me to or not."
Y/N's eyes narrowed. "Oh, how wonderful. He has opinions."
"Y/N." the Prince warned.
"No, Father. If I'm going to be stuck with a shadow, I'd like to establish some ground rules." She turned to Nico fully, her posture aggressive despite her small stature. "First, you will not attend my private meetings. Second, you will not follow me into my personal quarters. Third, you will not offer unsolicited advice about anything. Not security, not protocol, not what I should wear or where I should go. You are here to stand between me and bullets, not to be my friend or confidant. Are we clear?"
Nico held her gaze steadily. "Crystal clear, Your Highness. With one modification."
"Excuse me?"
"I will absolutely attend your private meetings if I deem them a security risk. I will absolutely enter your personal quarters if I believe there's a threat. And I will absolutely offer advice when your safety is at stake, whether you've asked for it or not." He kept his voice level, professional. "Your Highness, I understand you don't want me here. That's fine. I'm not here to be wanted. I'm here to do a job. And that job is keeping you alive, which means sometimes I will make you uncomfortable, or angry, or frustrated. I apologize in advance for that. But I won't apologize for doing what I was assigned to do."
The room fell silent. The Prince Regent watched the exchange with something that might have been amusement. Y/N stared at Nico like she was trying to decide if he was incredibly brave or incredibly stupid.
"You can't talk to me like that," she said finally.
"With respect, Your Highness, I just did."
Her jaw clenched. "Father, I want him removed."
"No."
"I'm serious."
"So am I." The Prince stood, his expression sympathetic but firm. "Y/N, I know this isn't what you want. But it's what you need. And Hauptmann Hischier comes with the highest possible recommendations from Colonel Weber and the KSK. He's the best Switzerland has to offer."
"Then Switzerland's standards have fallen dramatically."
"That's enough." The Prince's voice hardened slightly. "You are a Crown Princess. You will treat the Hauptmann with the respect his service deserves, even if you disagree with his presence. Am I understood?"
Y/N's expression shuttered, becoming the careful mask Nico recognized from official photographs. "Yes, Father. Perfectly understood."
"Good. Hauptmann, Herr Dietrich will show you to your quarters and brief you on the Princess's schedule. You begin your duties immediately."
It was a dismissal. Nico bowed to the Prince, then turned to Y/N and offered a slight nod. "Your Highness."
She said nothing, just watched him with those gray eyes that seemed to catalogue every detail, every weakness, every angle of attack.
He followed Dietrich out, acutely aware of her gaze on his back until the door closed behind them.
"Well," Dietrich said as they walked through gilt-edged corridors, "that went about as well as expected."
"She hates me."
"She hates the situation. You're simply the most convenient target." Dietrich stopped at a door and produced a key. "Your quarters. They adjoin the Princess's suite. That door there connects, though it will remain locked from her side unless there's an emergency. You'll have access to enter if needed."
The room was larger than Nico's entire apartment in New Jersey had been, decorated in the same historical style as the rest of the palace. It felt like sleeping in a museum.
"The Princess's schedule," Dietrich continued, handing Nico a leather-bound folder, "is quite demanding. Morning language lessons, afternoon meetings with various ministers and advisors, evening state functions or charity events. Your presence will be required at all public events. For private functions, you'll maintain position outside the venue unless security concerns dictate otherwise."
"Does she ever relax?" Nico asked, flipping through the schedule. Every hour was accounted for, from 6 AM until midnight.
"Rarely. And when she does, she prefers to do so alone. Which is going to be a point of contention."
"When isn't it going to be a point of contention?"
Dietrich smiled slightly. "I like you, Hauptmann. You remind me of the Princess, actually. Both very direct. Both a bit too honest for palace life."
"She doesn't seem to like honesty much."
"She doesn't like being managed. There's a difference." Dietrich moved to the window, which overlooked a private garden. "Her Highness has spent her entire adult life being told what to do, where to go, what to say, how to behave. Every aspect of her existence is scrutinized and controlled. Your presence, however well-intentioned, represents one more restriction on her freedom."
"I'm trying to keep her alive, not control her."
"To her, those things feel the same."
Nico set down the folder. "How am I supposed to protect someone who fights me every step of the way?"
"That, Hauptmann, is the challenge. And I'm afraid I don't have an answer." Dietrich headed for the door. "Dinner is at eight, in the small dining room. The Princess expects you to attend. She wants to establish what she calls 'working parameters.' I'd suggest being prepared for an unpleasant evening."
"Great. Looking forward to it."
After Dietrich left, Nico unpacked his single duffel bag, uniforms, workout clothes, the photo of his family, the puck from his first NHL goal. Everything fit easily into one drawer. The rest of the room's elaborate furniture stood empty, waiting for a life he didn't have.
He picked up the photo, studying his parents' faces. They'd been supportive when he left hockey, confused but trusting. They'd be even more confused by this assignment.
His phone buzzed with a text from Timo, one of the few people who had his new number.
How's the new gig?
Complicated, Nico typed back.
Danger or boredom?
Both. Neither. I'll explain when I can.
That's cryptic even for you. Stay safe, yeah?
Always.
He set the phone down and walked to the connecting door, pressing his ear against it. Silence. Either the Princess was out, or she was very quiet.
Or she was on the other side, listening just like he was.
He stepped back, suddenly feeling like a creep. This was his job now, being close enough to protect her, but not so close that she felt invaded. It was an impossible balance, and he had a feeling he was going to fail at it spectacularly.
Outside, the alpine sun climbed higher, gilding the valley in gold. Somewhere in those mountains, someone was planning violence against a young woman who just wanted to be left alone.
And Nico's job was to stop them, while simultaneously being the person she wanted around least.
He'd faced hostile crowds before, had played through injuries that should have benched him, had led teams through impossible deficits.
But somehow, he suspected that winning over Prinzessin Y/N was going to be the hardest challenge of his life.
You can't fall in love, Weber had warned.
At the moment, Nico thought, that seemed like the least of his problems.
A/N: This story is slightly based on my family's trip to Austria because my father used to get us lost, and he would make friends with everyone we met along the way. One time when we were hiking in France, he carried 1kg of jam along with some baguettes up a mountain, and we met a Dutch family who had 1kg of Nutella. That is still one of my favourite memories.
Pairing: Nico Hischier x reader
Words: 7,9k
Warning(s): none
The morning air in the Swiss mountains feels different from anywhere else. It’s crisp and cool even though the sun is already warming the valleys, and every breath you take smells faintly of pine trees and fresh grass. Your family had insisted on waking up early to make the most of the day, claiming the national park would be quieter before the crowds arrived.
You hadn’t complained, though. There was something peaceful about being here, far from the usual noise of daily life. Switzerland in the summer looked almost unreal. With its endless green slopes, tiny wooden chalets scattered in the distance, and snow still clinging to the faraway mountain peaks.
The gravel path crunches underneath your hiking shoes as you walk slightly ahead of your family. Your parents and siblings are a few steps behind you, debating which trail leads to the waterfall marked on the map.
“Are you sure it’s this trail?” your dad asks from behind you.
“That’s what the sign said,” your mom replies.
Your sister groans dramatically. “We’ve been walking for twenty minutes.”
You smile to yourself and keep moving forward, enjoying the quiet. A breeze moves through the valley, carrying the distant sound of cowbells. You slow your pace, letting the quiet settle around you. A wooden sign marks the entrance to a narrower trail that winds deeper into the national park. You step onto it without thinking much, assuming your family will follow. You reach a bend in the trail where the path narrows slightly.
At the exact same moment someone rounds the corner from the other direction. You both stop abruptly.
“Oh—sorry!” you say quickly, stepping back a little.
The guy in front of you had clearly been just as surprised. He pauses for a second, then smiles, brushing a hand through his dark hair.
“No, that was my fault too,” he says. His voice is warm and relaxed, like someone who’s just enjoying a quiet day outside.
You glance at him briefly while stepping aside to give him space on the trail. He looks like any other hiker you might see here. He was wearing simple hiking shorts, a dark T-shirt, and a small backpack slung over one shoulder. There’s something familiar about his face, but you can’t place why. Maybe he just has one of those faces that look like someone you’ve seen before.
“Nice day for a hike,” he adds.
You nod, glancing around at the mountains towering above the trees.
“Yeah, it’s beautiful here.”
“Are you visiting?” he asks.
“Yeah. My family and I are on vacation.” You gesture vaguely behind you where their voices are still echoing faintly through the forest. “They’re currently having a serious discussion about a map.”
That makes him laugh softly.
“I know that situation.”
“You too?”
“All the time,” he says with a grin.
There’s a small pause, but it doesn’t feel awkward. Just quiet and peaceful, filled with birdsong and the rustle of leaves overhead.
“What about you?” you ask. “Do you live around here?”
“Kind of,” he says. “I grew up in Switzerland. I come back during the summer whenever I can.”
You glance out toward the mountains again. From this angle you can see a distant peak still covered in snow, even in July.
“Honestly,” you say, “I would too. If I grew up somewhere like this, I’d never want to leave.”
He smiles a little at that.
“Yeah… it’s pretty hard to beat.”
Footsteps crunch on the trail behind you.
“There you are!” your sister calls out.
You turn just in time to see your family finally catching up. Your parents stop when they notice the stranger you’ve been talking to.
Your dad gives a polite nod, “Sorry if we’re holding up the trail.”
The guy shakes his head quickly. “Not at all.”
Your mom smiles kindly. “Are you hiking alone?”
“Yeah, just enjoying the park for a bit,” he says.
Your family doesn’t seem to recognize him either. To them he’s just another friendly person on the trail.
Your sister glances between the two of you with a small smirk.
“Making friends already?”
You roll your eyes.
“We literally just almost ran into each other.”
“That’s one way to meet someone,” she teases.
The guy chuckles quietly.
“Well, I’m glad we didn’t actually collide.”
“Same,” you say.
For a moment everyone just stands there, the forest quiet around you except for the soft wind moving through the trees. Then he shifts his backpack slightly.
“I should probably keep going,” he says. “The trail gets really nice further up.”
“Thanks for the tip,” you reply.
He gives you one last friendly smile before continuing down the path past your family.
You watch him disappear around the curve in the trail.
Your sister nudges your arm immediately.
“Cute hiker,” she whispers.
“Oh my god, stop,” you mutter.
Your parents are already focused on the map again, debating directions like nothing happened.
Meanwhile, somewhere further along the trail, the friendly stranger you just met, who happens to be Nico Hischier, continues his hike through the quiet Swiss mountains.
And you walk on with your family, completely unaware that the guy you just chatted with is actually a professional hockey player. To you, he’s simply the nice stranger you bumped into on a sunny trail in the mountains of Switzerland, for now at least.
The trail continues deeper into the forest after that encounter, winding slowly upward along the mountainside. Your family resumes walking, the earlier moment already fading into the background of the day. Gravel crunches beneath your shoes as the path climbs higher, and every so often the trees thin out enough to reveal breathtaking views of the valley below.
You glance back once, almost without realizing it. But the stranger is already gone, the bend in the trail hiding him completely.
“Come on,” your mom calls. “If we keep stopping, we’ll never reach the lake.”
You turn forward again and keep walking. The hike becomes steeper as you move farther into the national park. Tall pine trees surround the path now, their branches stretching high above you and filling the air with the scent of resin.
The silence here is different from city quiet. It’s full of small sounds. Birds calling from somewhere deep in the forest. The rustle of leaves. The distant ringing of cowbells drifting from farms somewhere far down in the valley. You breathe in deeply, letting the mountain air fill your lungs. This is exactly the kind of vacation you needed.
About twenty minutes later, the trail opens into a wide clearing. The trees pull back suddenly, revealing a meadow filled with wildflowers and tall grass swaying gently in the breeze. Beyond it, the mountains rise dramatically, their rocky slopes glowing in the midday sun. In the centre of the clearing sits a small wooden bench near a trail marker, and someone is sitting there. You recognize him immediately. The same dark hair, the same relaxed posture. He’s leaning forward slightly with his elbows resting on his knees, a water bottle loosely held in one hand. It was the stranger from earlier.
He looks up when he hears footsteps approaching. For a brief second, surprise flashes across his face. Then he smiles again.
“Well,” he says, standing up slightly. “Guess we’re taking the same route.”
You laugh softly, “I guess so.”
Your family spreads out across the clearing, grateful for the chance to rest. Your dad immediately sits down on the grass while your mom begins digging through the backpack for snacks. Your sister wanders toward the edge of the meadow to take photos of the mountains. Meanwhile you end up standing near the bench again, only a few steps away from the stranger.
“You weren’t kidding about the trail getting nice,” you say, looking out at the view.
“It gets even better a little higher up,” he replies. “There’s a lake maybe forty minutes from here.”
You glance toward the path that continues climbing beyond the clearing.
“Forty minutes doesn’t sound too bad.”
He shrugs slightly.
“Depends how fast you hike.”
You grin.
“That’s true.”
For a moment the two of you stand there quietly, both looking out at the mountains. The wind moves through the meadow, making the tall grass ripple like waves. You still can’t quite shake the strange feeling that his face looks familiar somehow, but you’re pretty sure you’ve never met him before.
“Are you hiking the whole trail today?” you ask.
“Probably,” he says. “I’ve got the time.”
“That must be nice.”
“It is,” he admits with a small smile.
Your mom suddenly appears beside you, handing you a granola bar. “Energy break,” she says.
“Thanks.”
She glances briefly at the guy next to you, giving him a friendly nod.
“Nice weather for it today.”
“Perfect weather,” he agrees politely.
Your mom smiles and then heads back toward the rest of your family, leaving the two of you alone again near the bench.
You unwrap the granola bar, taking a bite as you look out across the meadow.
“So do you hike here a lot?” you ask between bites.
“Whenever I’m back home,” he says. “It’s a good way to relax.”
“Yeah, I can see that.” You nod.
There’s something about the mountains that makes conversations slower and calmer. Neither of you seems in a rush to fill the silence. After a moment he gestures toward the path ahead.
“Are you guys going to the lake too?”
You glance back at your family. Your dad is studying the map again. Your sister is lying in the grass staring up at the sky. You turn back to him.
“I think that’s the plan.”
He nods thoughtfully.
“If you want, I can show you the easier route once the trail splits. It’s not marked very clearly.”
You raise an eyebrow.
“You offering to be our guide?”
“Just trying to prevent you from getting lost,” he says with a small grin.
You laugh.
“That might actually be helpful.”
At that moment your sister suddenly jogs over, clearly having noticed that you’re still talking to the same guy.
“So, you meet again,” she says, clearly amused.
“Apparently we’re hiking the same trail,” you reply.
She looks at him curiously.
“I’m guessing you’re local then?”
“More or less,” he answers.
Your sister nods thoughtfully.
“Well, if you know where the lake is, you’re officially the most valuable person on this trail.” He laughs quietly at that.
“Where are you guys visiting from?” he asks.
You brush a strand of hair away from your face.
“The Netherlands,” you say. “We wanted mountains for once.”
He smiles slightly at that.
“Yeah… you definitely came to the right place for that.”
You laugh.
“That’s what my dad said when he booked the trip.”
Your sister nods dramatically. “Back home the biggest ‘hill’ near us is basically a bridge.”
That makes him laugh.
“I’ve heard that before.”
Meanwhile, your parents begin packing up the snacks and standing again.
“Ready to continue?” your dad calls.
You glance at the stranger.
“So… lake guide?”
He stands from the bench, adjusting the strap of his backpack.
“Lake guide.”
And just like that, the quiet hike through the Swiss mountains turns into something slightly more interesting. Together, you start walking again, following the trail as it climbs higher into the bright green hills of Switzerland. Beside you walks the friendly stranger you bumped into earlier, a guy whose name you still don’t know.
The trail leaving the meadow grows narrower as it winds deeper into the mountains. The grass slowly disappears, replaced by rougher ground scattered with rocks and patches of alpine flowers. Small purple and yellow blossoms grow stubbornly between stones, and every so often the wind carries the faint scent of wild herbs through the air.
Your family follows the path in a loose group, but without really planning it, you end up walking beside the stranger again. He walks easily, like someone who has hiked these trails many times before. His steps are relaxed but steady, and every now and then he glances around at the mountains like he’s quietly appreciating them all over again.
You try not to stare, but the earlier feeling returns that strange sense of familiarity you can’t quite place. Maybe he just looks like someone you’ve seen on TV once.
“So,” he says after a few minutes, “how long are you staying in Switzerland?”
“Two weeks,” you reply. “We’re moving around a bit. A few days here, then another village further south.”
“Nice,” he says. “First time here?”
You nod.
“Yeah. My parents wanted something different this year. Usually, we go somewhere with a beach, but this time they decided we needed mountains.”
He glances toward the valley far below the trail.
“Well… this is definitely mountains.”
You laugh softly. “Yeah, I think we succeeded.”
Behind you, your parents and sister have fallen slightly behind again. Your dad keeps stopping to take photos of the scenery, and your mom is carefully navigating the uneven rocks.
Your sister calls out dramatically, “Why is everything uphill?!”
The stranger chuckles. “That’s kind of how mountains work.”
You grin. “Don’t tell her that. She’s still in denial.”
The trail curves around a large rocky outcrop, and suddenly the trees thin out again. This time the view is even more impressive. The forest drops away, revealing a wide valley filled with green slopes and tiny clusters of chalets that look like miniature houses from this height.
The sky above the mountains is an endless, bright blue.
You slow down without meaning to, taking it all in.
“Wow,” you breathe.
He stops too, glancing out over the view.
“Yeah,” he says quietly.
For a moment neither of you speaks. The wind moves across the mountainside, stronger up here, lifting strands of your hair and rustling the grass along the edge of the trail.
“You’re lucky,” you say after a moment.
He looks at you. “Why?”
“You grew up with this,” you say, gesturing toward the mountains around you. “Where I’m from everything is… flat.”
He smiles slightly.
“I’ve been to the Netherlands once.”
You blink in surprise.
“Really?”
“Yeah. Very flat,” he confirms.
You laugh.
“That’s the most accurate description of my country I’ve ever heard.”
Your family finally catches up to you both. Your dad immediately stops again to take more pictures.
“This view is incredible,” he says.
The stranger nods politely.
“It’s even better at the lake.”
Your sister groans.
“You mean we still have to climb more?”
He gestures toward the trail that continues upward along the ridge.
“Just a little.”
You lean closer to your sister.
“See? Official mountain expert says we’re almost there.”
She squints suspiciously at him.
“You’re not secretly leading us up another hour of hiking, right?”
He laughs.
“I promise. Not that far.”
The group starts walking again, though the pace is slower now because the path has become steeper. The ground is uneven, and occasionally you have to step over roots or climb small rocky sections of the trail. You notice the stranger instinctively slowing his pace slightly whenever the trail gets tricky, staying close enough that your family can follow easily. At one point your mom almost slips on a loose rock, but he quickly points out a safer step just ahead.
“Try that one,” he says.
“Thank you,” she replies gratefully.
You glance at him.
“You do this a lot, don’t you?”
“Hike?” he asks.
“Yeah. And guide lost tourists.”
“Only sometimes.” He smiles.
Another bend in the trail appears ahead, partially hidden behind a cluster of tall pine trees. The sound of water becomes faintly noticeable now.
You tilt your head slightly. “Is that the lake?”
“Almost,” he says.
Your sister immediately speeds up. “Finally!”
You follow just a few steps behind her, curiosity building with every step. The sound of water grows louder as you round the last curve in the trail. The lake appears suddenly, like something out of a postcard.
Crystal clear water stretches across a small mountain basin, reflecting the sky like a mirror. Snow-dusted peaks surround it on all sides, their reflections shimmering on the surface. Near the shore, smooth stones line the edge where the water gently laps against them. The whole place feels quiet and untouched, like a hidden secret in the mountains.
“Oh my god.” Your sister stops dead in her tracks.
Your dad lowers his camera slowly, clearly impressed. Your mom just stares at the water. You walk a few steps closer to the edge of the lake, completely amazed.
“This is… insane,” you whisper.
Beside you, the stranger smiles slightly as he watches your reaction.
“Told you it was worth it.”
You turn toward him with a grin.
“Okay, yeah. Best guide ever.”
He laughs softly.
As the sunlight sparkles across the clear alpine water, your family settles along the quiet shore of a hidden lake high in the mountains of Switzerland. Standing beside you is the friendly stranger who helped you find it.
The lake stays peaceful for a long time after you arrive. Your family spreads out along the rocky shoreline, settling down as if you’ve discovered a secret place meant only for you. Your dad immediately starts taking photos from every angle possible, crouching down by the water and walking along the edge to capture the mountains reflected on the surface. Your sister takes off her shoes and carefully dips her toes into the water, only to yelp loudly a second later.
“It’s freezing!” she shouts, hopping backward onto the rocks.
You laugh as she shakes her foot dramatically.
“Well, it is a mountain lake,” the stranger beside you says, clearly amused.
You glance at him, smiling.
“Did you ever actually swim in it?”
“Once,” he says. “Never again.” That makes you laugh harder.
The two of you sit down on a large flat rock near the shore, watching the sunlight shimmer across the surface of the water. The wind is a little stronger up here, moving across the lake in soft ripples that distort the perfect reflections of the peaks above.
Your parents are talking quietly a few meters away while unpacking sandwiches from their backpack. Your sister is still cautiously poking the lake with one foot like she’s testing its temperature again.
It’s calm and peaceful. Somehow it feels like you’ve known the guy sitting next to you longer than just a few hours.
“So,” he says after a moment, resting his arms on his knees. “What do you think of Switzerland so far?”
You glance around the lake again, taking in the mountains surrounding it like giant walls of stone and green.
“I think I’m going to be very disappointed when I go back home.”
He smiles slightly.
“That bad?”
“Well…” you say, shrugging. “Back in the Netherlands our biggest ‘nature adventure’ is biking through fields.”
“Nothing wrong with that.”
“True,” you admit. “But it’s not exactly this.”
He follows your gaze across the lake.
“No,” he agrees quietly.
Your family soon finishes eating, and after spending nearly an hour enjoying the view, the group eventually decides it’s time to hike back down before it gets too late. The walk down is easier and faster, and the conversations become lighter. Your sister spends half the time joking about the freezing lake, while your dad keeps stopping to point out different mountain peaks he recognizes from the map.
The stranger, who introduced himself earlier as Nico, walks near you most of the way down. At some point the trees grow thicker again, and the afternoon sunlight turns warmer as it filters through the forest.
When you finally reach the lower trails again, the paths begin splitting in different directions.
Your dad pulls out the map once more.
“Alright… which way now?”
Nico glances at it briefly.
“If you’re heading back toward the village, this trail will take you there faster,” he says, pointing toward a wider path.
“Perfect,” your dad replies.
You all start walking again, and after another twenty minutes the forest slowly opens into a small alpine village. Wooden chalets sit scattered across the hillside, their balconies overflowing with bright flowers. The air smells faintly like fresh bread and grilled food drifting from nearby restaurants.
Your sister immediately perks up.
“Okay, I’m starving now.”
“Same here.” Your mom laughs.
Your family slows near the small village square, looking around at the cozy restaurants and cafés lining the street. Wooden signs hang outside each one, and small outdoor terraces are filled with people enjoying the warm evening air.
Nico stops walking beside you, glancing toward one of the restaurants further down the street.
“My family’s actually meeting for dinner tonight,” he says. “At one of our favourite places here.”
You look at him curiously, “Oh?”
He hesitates for a moment, then adds, “If you guys don’t already have plans… you’re welcome to join us.”
You blink in surprise.
“Oh, we couldn’t—”
“It’s really no trouble,” he says quickly. “They won’t mind at all. And the food there is really good.”
Your parents exchange a quick look.
“Well… that’s a very kind offer,” your dad shrugs with a small smile.
Your sister grins immediately.
“Good food recommendation from a local? I’m definitely in.”
You elbow her lightly, but Nico just laughs. A few minutes later you’re walking down the village street together.
The restaurant he leads you to is beautiful—an old alpine building with dark wooden beams, warm lights glowing through the windows, and flower boxes overflowing with bright red geraniums. Soft music drifts out from inside as people sit at outdoor tables enjoying dinner.
“This place is amazing already,” your sister whispers.
Inside, the restaurant feels warm and lively. The scent of grilled meat, fresh bread, and herbs fills the air, and the low hum of conversations creates a cozy atmosphere.
Nico scans the room briefly before spotting a table toward the back.
“There they are.”
You follow his gaze. Four people are already sitting there: a man and woman who look like they could be his parents, and two others who immediately stand when they see him approaching. The guy looks almost identical to Nico, just slightly older, while the girl beside him has the same dark hair and bright smile.
“Nico!” his mom, Katja, says warmly as he reaches the table.
He leans down to hug her briefly.
“Hi, Mom.”
His dad, Rino, stands as well, shaking Nico’s hand before pulling him into a quick hug. Then Nico gestures toward you and your family.
“I met them hiking today,” he explains. “They’re visiting from the Netherlands.”
His parents greet your family kindly, clearly welcoming even though they hadn’t expected extra guests. But before anyone can fully sit down, the older guy, Luca, leans back in his chair and grins.
“Oh wow.”
Nico immediately sighs. “What?”
His brother gestures between you and Nico.
“You went hiking and came back with a whole group of people?”
The girl beside him laughs.
“That’s actually impressive.”
Nico rubs the back of his neck. “They got lost.”
“We did not get lost,” you protest, though you’re smiling.
His sister, Nina, tilts her head, studying you with clear amusement.
“So, you met him on the trail?”
“Yes,” you say.
She exchanges a look with her brother.
“Oh, this is great.”
“Don’t start.” Nico already knows what’s coming.
Luca grins wider.
“What? I’m just surprised.”
“Surprised about what?” your sister asks curiously.
“That Nico actually talked to strangers first,” Luca says.
You laugh, “He didn’t talk first. We almost walked into each other.”
Nina gasps dramatically.
“A meet-cute in the mountains.”
Nico groans, leaning back in his chair.
“Seriously?”
His siblings are clearly enjoying this far too much. His brother pats him on the shoulder.
“Hey, whatever works.”
You can’t stop laughing now, and even your parents are smiling at the playful teasing. Nico shakes his head, though you can see he’s trying not to laugh too.
“Please ignore them,” he says quietly to you.
You grin. “I don’t know… I think they’re pretty entertaining.”
Across the table, Nina leans toward you slightly.
“Trust me,” she says conspiratorially, “this is the most interesting story he’s brought home all summer.”
Nico immediately covers his face with one hand, and the entire table bursts into laughter while the warm lights of the restaurant glow softly around you in the evening air of Switzerland—the family from the Netherlands unexpectedly sharing dinner with the friendly stranger from the mountain trail and his teasing siblings.
The restaurant grows busier as the evening goes on. Warm golden lights hang from wooden beams across the ceiling, and the quiet sound of conversations blends with soft music playing somewhere near the bar. Outside the windows the sky has begun turning darker, the last light of sunset fading behind the tall mountains surrounding the village.
Your family and Nico’s family sit together around the long table, and what started as a slightly awkward introduction quickly turns into an easy, lively dinner.
Plates begin arriving one after another with fresh bread still warm from the oven, bowls of salad with herbs that smell like they were picked just minutes ago, and large plates of traditional alpine dishes. Melted cheese, roasted potatoes, grilled meats, and vegetables fill the table until there’s barely any space left.
Your sister stares at the food in awe.
“Okay,” she says quietly, “this might be the best dinner of the entire trip.”
Luca grins, “It probably is.”
Your dad raises his glass slightly toward Nico.
“Thanks again for inviting us.”
“No problem,” Nico replies easily.
The conversation slowly flows between both families. Your parents talk with his parents about travel, about the difference between life in Switzerland and the Netherlands, and about hiking trails and small villages in the region. Meanwhile, the younger group at the table drifts into their own conversations.
You find yourself talking mostly with Nico and his siblings. Luca leans back in his chair, clearly still amused by the situation.
“So, you literally just walked into each other?”
“Almost,” you say.
“Sounds like something out of a movie,” Nina adds with a playful smile.
Nico immediately shakes his head. “It wasn’t like that.”
“Sure.” Luca smirks.
You laugh, shaking your head.
“I promise it was very un-romantic. We almost collided on a narrow trail.”
“That’s still a meet-cute,” Nina insists.
Nico groans quietly while you and your sister laugh.
After the teasing settles down, the conversation becomes more relaxed. Nico asks about life back home about Dutch cities, cycling everywhere, and how flat everything really is.
“Seriously,” Luca says at one point, “there are no mountains at all?”
“None,” you confirm.
Your sister nods dramatically, “If you see a hill, people take pictures.” That makes everyone laugh again.
As dinner continues, the plates slowly empty and the table fills with glasses and crumbs of bread. The atmosphere in the restaurant becomes louder as more guests arrive, but your table feels strangely comfortable, like you’ve all known each other longer than just a few hours. At some point Nico’s dad glances at his watch.
“Well,” he says, leaning back in his chair. “It’s getting late.”
Your parents look at each other and your mom nods slightly.
“We were just thinking the same thing.”
Your sister groans dramatically, “Already?”
“You’ve been hiking all day.” Your dad chuckles.
Across the table Luca stretches slightly.
“Some of us still have energy.”
Nina nods in agreement. “Yeah, the night is still young.”
Your parents begin gathering their things from the table, and Nico’s parents do the same.
Your mom turns toward you.
“We’re going to head back to the hotel.”
You blink. “Already?”
“You can stay if you want,” she says casually. “Just don’t stay out too late.”
Your sister’s eyes immediately light up.
“Wait, really?”
Your dad shrugs with a small smile.
“You’re on vacation.”
Nico’s parents exchange an amused look.
“We’re heading home too,” his mom says to him and his siblings. “But you can stay in the village if you want.”
Luca grins immediately.
“Well… there’s a bar down the street.”
Your sister looks at you with excitement.
“Oh, we’re definitely staying.”
Within a few minutes the parents are saying their goodbyes. Handshakes and friendly smiles are exchanged, and both families promise that it was lovely meeting each other.
Your dad pats Nico on the shoulder before leaving.
“Thanks again for showing us the trail.”
“Of course,” Nico replies.
Soon the older group disappears out the restaurant door into the cool evening air. And just like that, it’s only the five of you left at the table.
For a moment there’s a quiet pause. Then Luca leans forward with a grin.
“So,” he says, looking between you and your sister, “who’s ready for that bar?”
Your sister immediately raises her hand. “Absolutely.”
His sister laughs. “Perfect.”
“You don’t have to come if you’re tired.” Nico glances at you.
You shake your head quickly, “No way. After today? I’m definitely not going back to the hotel yet.”
He smiles slightly at that.
The night air feels cooler once you step fully outside the restaurant. The warmth from inside fades quickly, replaced by the crisp mountain breeze that drifts through the narrow streets of the village. Overhead, the sky is already dark, but unlike back home in the Netherlands, the stars here are incredibly clear. Without the glow of big cities, the sky above the mountains seems endless, scattered with thousands of tiny lights.
For a moment the five of you just stand there on the cobblestone street. Soft music spills from one of the nearby bars, and the quiet murmur of people enjoying the evening drifts through the warm yellow light of streetlamps.
Luca stretches his arms above his head.
“Well,” he says, glancing down the street, “I vote we go there.”
He points toward a cozy-looking bar a little further along the road. It has a small terrace with wooden tables and strings of warm lights hanging above it. Laughter and music spill out every time the door opens.
“That looks perfect.” Your sister grins.
Nina nods in agreement, “Yeah, it’s a good place.”
You glance at Nico as you all start walking.
“So… does this kind of thing happen to you a lot?” you ask.
He looks at you, slightly confused.
“What do you mean?”
“Meeting random tourists on mountain trails and bringing them out for drinks later.”
Luca immediately laughs loudly from ahead of you.
“Oh definitely not.”
Nico sighs, “Thanks.”
You smile slightly.
“I’m just curious.”
He glances down the street before answering.
“Honestly? Today was… kind of random.”
“Good random or bad random?”
He looks at you again, a small smile forming.
“Good random.”
You feel your cheeks warm slightly but look away quickly as you reach the bar.
The place is lively but not overly crowded. Inside, the walls are decorated with old wooden skis, vintage photographs of the mountains, and shelves of local drinks. A few groups of people sit around tables laughing and talking while soft music plays in the background. You all grab a table near the window.
Your sister sits down first and looks around excitedly.
“This place is so cool.”
Luca nods, “It’s one of our favorites when we’re back home.”
A waiter comes over, and everyone orders drinks, simple ones, nothing too fancy. Soon glasses are placed on the table, reflecting the warm lights of the bar.
For a while the conversation stays light and easy. Nico’s siblings quickly pull both you and your sister into their conversations like you’ve known each other for years. They tell stories about growing up here in the mountains, about school, about ridiculous things Nico did when he was younger.
“You should hear the story about when he got lost during a hiking trip,” his brother says.
Nico immediately shakes his head.
“No.”
His sister is already laughing.
“Oh yes.”
Your sister leans forward excitedly.
“Please tell me.”
Nico rubs his face with one hand.
“This is going to be embarrassing.”
His brother ignores him “So he was like… twelve, and our parents thought he was hiking with friends—”
“I was not lost,” Nico interrupts.
“You absolutely were.”
Everyone laughs as the story unfolds, and by the end even Nico is smiling despite himself. You notice something during all of this though. Even while everyone is talking, Nico’s attention keeps drifting back toward you. Sometimes it’s just a quick glance when you laugh at something his siblings say, or when you’re telling a story about your trip through Switzerland so far.
At one point your sister gets pulled into a conversation with his siblings about places in the village to visit. Which leaves the two of you momentarily quieter.
You swirl your drink slightly and look over at him.
“So… earlier today you said you come back here in the summers,” you say.
“Yeah.”
“But you don’t live here all year?”
He shakes his head slightly.
“No. I spend most of the year somewhere else.”
“Where?”
He hesitates for half a second.
“In North America.”
You raise an eyebrow.
“That’s pretty far.”
“It is.”
“What do you do there?”
For a brief moment he looks like he’s deciding how to answer that. Before he can speak, his brother suddenly leans over the table dramatically. “Oh, here we go.”
“Don’t.” Nico immediately groans.
You look between them.
“What?”
Luca grins mischievously.
“You still haven’t told her?”
Nico gives him a warning look.
“Told me what?” you ask, confused.
Nina bites back a smile.
“You really don’t know, do you?”
Now you’re even more confused. “Know what?”
Nico leans back in his chair, clearly realizing there’s no stopping this now.
His brother points directly at him, “He plays hockey.”
“Okay?” You shrug slightly.
All three siblings stare at you.
Luca blinks, “…Okay?”
“Is that surprising?” You tilt your head.
Nina bursts out laughing.
“Oh my god.”
Nico just watches your reaction quietly.
“You play hockey in North America?” you ask.
“Yeah.”
“For a team?”
“Yeah.”
You think for a moment.
“Professional?”
He nods slightly.
Your eyes widen a little.
“Oh.”
There’s a pause. Then you say honestly, “I have no idea what that means.”
Luca nearly chokes on his drink. “You’re serious?”
You nod.
“I’m from the Netherlands. Hockey there means field hockey.”
That somehow makes the entire table laugh even harder.
Nico shakes his head, smiling now.
“Honestly… that’s kind of refreshing.”
You grin.
“Sorry to disappoint everyone.”
Nina wipes a tear of laughter from her eye.
“This might be the first time someone has no clue who he is.”
Nico lifts his drink slightly toward you. “Well… I like it.”
And as the laughter settles again, the five of you continue talking late into the night—just a group of new friends sharing drinks in a cozy village bar beneath the quiet mountains of Switzerland.
The night continues to stretch lazily around the bar. Warm lights, soft music, and the faint smell of wood smoke from the fireplace make the room feel cozy, almost like a hidden corner of the world. You sit across from Nico, laughing at something his sister just said, when you realize you’ve hardly noticed the time passing.
His siblings, on the other hand, are fully aware. There’s a subtle, mischievous gleam in both of their eyes whenever they glance at the two of you. Every so often, one of them nudges the other under the table or leans over to whisper something in a conspiratorial tone, obviously plotting something you haven’t figured out yet.
“You know,” Luca says casually, leaning back and pretending to look around the room, “it’s really nice that you two met today.”
You glance at him, trying to read his tone, but he just smiles innocently. Nico, meanwhile, raises an eyebrow and looks at you, clearly curious.
“You mean the trail?” you ask, smiling slightly.
“Exactly,” Nina chimes in, grinning. “Funny how a small bump on a narrow path can turn into… well… this.” She gestures vaguely between the two of you.
Nico lets out a small laugh, shaking his head. “I don’t know if I’d call it anything yet.”
“Oh, he’s playing it cool,” his brother says dramatically. “Typical.”
You glance at Nico, who smirks faintly, and you can’t help but laugh too. It’s not mocking just a quiet, easy smile that makes the air between you feel lighter.
The siblings clearly aren’t giving up. They start steering the conversation in ways that naturally bring the two of you together—asking Nico to explain parts of the trail you walked, having him help you choose a drink from the menu, and telling stories that highlight his quirks, his humour, his laugh… small things that make him seem more approachable, more human, and, frankly, impossible not to like.
“Remember when he slipped on that rock near the waterfall?” Nina says, leaning in conspiratorially. “I thought he was going to fall into the stream.”
“You didn’t,” Nico protests. “It was fine. I caught myself.”
You laugh, shaking your head. “Sounds dramatic to me.”
“Exactly the point,” his brother says, winking. “He’s humble, but you see the real him when he’s not trying to be perfect.”
You notice Nico glancing at you more often now, the faint smile tugging at his lips whenever you laugh at something his siblings say. The teasing isn’t mean, it’s playful, a little nudge in your direction. It’s clear they’re working together, even though you haven’t fully realized it yet.
“You know,” Nico says quietly, leaning closer so only you can hear, “I think they enjoy this far more than I do.”
You glance at him, raising an eyebrow. “Enjoy what?”
“The fact that they’re trying to get me to talk to you,” he says, a small smile tugging at his lips.
You laugh softly, feeling a warmth spreading through your chest. “I… had no idea.”
He shrugs slightly, still smiling. “Apparently it’s a team effort.”
Nina suddenly leans back, pretending to be bored but clearly enjoying herself. “Team Cupid,” she whispers under her breath, nudging her brother and your sister.
Your sister snorts quietly. “Best job ever.”
The rest of the night continues in a similar rhythm. Nico’s siblings and your sister continue to subtly prod the two of you together—making jokes that force eye contact, telling stories that involve shared experiences from earlier in the day, or casually leaving gaps in the conversation so the two of you fill them together.
You notice how natural it feels. There’s no pressure, no awkward pauses, just easy conversation, laughter, and a quiet sense of connection that grows with every story, every glance, every smile.
When you finally step outside into the cool mountain air again, the bar behind you buzzing with music and chatter, you realize the siblings aren’t done—they’re walking slightly ahead of you, nudging Nico every so often, whispering things that make him laugh or roll his eyes.
And when he finally turns to you as you walk side by side down the quiet street, his smile is soft, a little shy, but completely real.
“You know,” he says quietly, “your family and my siblings, they’ve got way too much fun at my expense.”
You grin. “I think they’re just trying to make sure you and I actually talk.”
He laughs, shaking his head. “I think you’re right.”
The small village has grown quieter by the time you leave the bar. The music fades behind you as the door closes, replaced by the softer sounds of the night settling over the mountains—distant laughter from another terrace, the faint clink of glasses somewhere further down the street, and the cool breeze drifting through the narrow lanes between wooden chalets.
Above you, the sky is unbelievably clear. Back home in the Netherlands you rarely see stars like this. Here, high in the mountains of Switzerland, the sky stretches endlessly, scattered with bright constellations that feel close enough to reach.
For a moment the five of you just stand outside the bar, adjusting to the cooler air.
Your sister stretches dramatically.
“That was such a good night.”
Luca nods. “Agreed.”
Then, without warning, your sister suddenly grabs Nina’s arm and blurts out loudly “Okay wait—this whole day is insane!”
And the two of them immediately start talking over each other in pure excitement.
“I know!” Nina says, laughing. “You met him on a trail!”
“And then dinner with both families?!”
“And now we’re here!”
Your sister looks back at you and Nico, eyes wide.
“This is literally the most random vacation day ever.”
Luca chuckles beside them. “Honestly, yeah.”
The three of them keep chatting excitedly ahead of you, their voices animated as they walk down the softly lit street together. They’re not trying to be subtle about anything, they’re just genuinely amused by how strange and fun the day turned out.
You and Nico naturally fall a step behind them.
The village at night feels calm, almost peaceful compared to the lively bar you just left. Wooden balconies with flowers hang above the street, and warm yellow lamps cast soft light across the cobblestones.
You glance ahead at the others.
“They bonded really fast,” you say.
“Yeah,” Nico replies, smiling slightly. “My siblings do that.”
“My sister too, apparently.”
Up ahead, your sister is enthusiastically telling a story while Nico’s siblings laugh, the three of them clearly getting along like they’ve known each other longer than just a few hours.
You hear Nina say, “Wait, you have to come back in winter sometime.”
Your sister immediately responds, “Oh my god, imagine skiing here.”
You smile a little at that.
“They’re already planning future trips.”
Nico laughs softly.
“That sounds about right.”
For a few moments you and him walk quietly, the sound of your footsteps echoing lightly along the street. The breeze carries the scent of pine from the forests surrounding the village, and somewhere nearby you can hear a small stream running through the town.
“So,” you say after a moment, glancing at him, “do nights like this happen often for you here?”
“Not really,” he admits. “Usually, it’s just family dinners or quiet evenings.”
“And random hikers?”
He smiles slightly.
“That’s new.”
You laugh.
“I still can’t believe today happened.”
“Same.”
Up ahead, your sister suddenly turns around while walking backwards, still talking to Nico’s siblings.
“Hey, are you guys coming?”
“We are,” you call back.
She grins and turns forward again, continuing her conversation with them like nothing happened.
You look back at Nico.
“They’re definitely enjoying this.”
“Yeah,” he says. “But I think it’s just because today turned out unexpectedly fun.”
You nod, glancing up at the stars again.
“It really did.”
For a moment neither of you says anything, but the silence isn’t awkward, it’s comfortable, the kind that happens naturally after a long day filled with too many unexpected moments to count.
The group continues walking through the village for a while, following the quiet streets that curve gently between wooden chalets and small gardens full of late-summer flowers. The night air feels cool but comfortable after the warm atmosphere of the bar, and the mountains loom dark and peaceful beyond the glowing village lights.
Your sister and Nico’s siblings are still talking animatedly ahead of you, comparing stories about school, travel, and random vacation experiences. Every now and then you catch bits of their conversation drifting back toward you, followed by bursts of laughter, but after a few turns through the village, you reach a small square with several paths branching in different directions.
Nico’s brother slows down first.
“Alright,” he says, looking around. “We should probably head home before Mom texts us.”
His sister nods in agreement. “Yeah, it’s getting late.”
Your sister glances at you.
“Oh right, we’re supposed to go back too.”
You hadn’t even been thinking about the time. For a moment the group gathers under one of the streetlamps, the warm light casting soft shadows across the cobblestones.
“Well,” Luca says, smiling at you and your sister, “it was really nice meeting you both.”
“Yeah,” Nina adds warmly. “Today was fun.”
Your sister immediately hugs them both like she’s known them longer than a few hours.
“Same here!”
You laugh softly and say your goodbyes too. After a few moments, the siblings start heading off down a side street together, still chatting and joking with each other as they go. Your sister walks a few steps with them, then turns back toward you.
“I’ll go with them to the corner,” she says. “Our hotel is that way anyway.”
You raise an eyebrow slightly but nod, “Okay.”
She gives you a small knowing smile before jogging to catch up with them. And then suddenly, the street is quiet.
It’s just you and Nico standing under the warm glow of the streetlight. For a moment neither of you speaks. The village feels calmer now, the night deeper and quieter without the earlier laughter and conversations surrounding you. Somewhere in the distance, a faint bell rings from a church tower, marking the late hour.
You glance down the street where the others disappeared, then back at Nico.
“Well,” you say softly, “that was… a really good day.”
He nods slowly.
“Yeah. It was.”
The air between you feels different now quieter, but also a little more focused. Like the whole day has been building toward this calm moment.
You shift slightly, leaning one shoulder against the wooden railing beside the path.
“I’m glad we almost ran into each other on that trail,” you add.
He smiles at that. “Me too.”
There’s a pause. Just a moment where both of you seem to be thinking the same thing but not quite saying it yet. Nico takes a small step closer.
“I was wondering something,” he says quietly.
You look up at him.
“What?”
He hesitates for just a second, like he’s deciding whether to say it. Then he asks softly, “Would it be okay if I kissed you?”
Your heart does a small, surprised flip. For a moment you just look at him under the warm streetlight, the quiet village around you and the stars bright above the mountains. Then you smile.
“Yeah,” you say.
He moves a little closer, gently, like he’s making sure you’re still comfortable. One hand rests lightly near your arm, and when he leans in, the moment feels slow and calm instead of rushed.
The kiss is soft, and a little unexpected after such a long, random day. But it also feels right. When you both pull back slightly, you can’t help smiling.
“Okay,” you say quietly, half laughing. “That definitely wasn’t part of my vacation plan.”
He laughs softly too.
“Mine either.”
For a second you both just stand there, still close, the quiet street stretching around you.
Then he says, “I was also wondering… if you’d want to meet again tomorrow.”
You raise an eyebrow playfully.
“Another random hike?”
“Maybe something a little less accidental this time,” he says with a small smile. “There’s a really nice spot near the lake higher up in the valley. Or we could just walk around the village.”
You think about it for approximately half a second.
𖦹˙— summary: nico wanting to intervene while his girlfriend cuts up bread to make croutons or slightly protective and domestic nico basically.
°. 🐚 ⋆ 𐔌 word count: ꒱ ~1.2k
⋆. 𐙚 ̊ warnings: sort of bad writing | more personalized experience … | not really read over
₊ ⊹ pairings: nico hischier + (fem) reader
nico felt like he was actually going insane. he had to sit back and watch his precious little dove use dangerous objects (a knife and a glass bowl, but since jacks injury, he worried about glass a lot more)! all his instincts were screaming for him to get up and shoo you away so he can do all of this for you instead!
he really just wants to get you away and cut the sourdough bread for you, but he knows it’d just agitate you instead. even if he does worry you’d cut yourself — you never have and there was a bountiful supply of first aid supplies and a lot more bandiads in the kitchen and bathroom cabinet respectively. so, he settles for cooing at you and watching the way you somehow carefully and carelessly cut the bread into smaller chunks.
he adored you, really! you just also constantly worried him…
nico knew you loved to bake and he had the resources for you to do so. you always looked so calm when baking, it was adorable. you ended up with the soft eyes and a happy, toothy smile when you were like this; how could he even think to intervene?
now he got homemade bread and treats all the time. sometimes at the cost of his sanity, but whatever. a treats a treat.
“no, go away,” he heard you mumble to the dog pressing against your legs. it was endearing how your guys dog always wanted whatever was on the oven, despite never knowing what exactly it was.
you eventually get guilted into giving the dog — a slightly older husky that you had found outside one winter and ended up naming lex — a small piece of the bread before shooing them away with a small huff. not that lex left, just laid down in front of the oven.
really, all nico could do was watch fondly while you tell lex to watch out and gently move them with your foot while moving to wash the knife off because they’re hovering below your feet again.
“careful–“ nico immediately started, getting up to walk over to you.
you just laugh in response.
“careful,” you repeat back, voice pitching slightly to mimic his accent and voice a little, resulting in a huff from nico.
nico wrapped his arms around your waist, tugging you back against him a little as his head fell to rest on your shoulder. he hummed in contentment when you turned your head to kiss his temple. he just watched as you cut the sourdough bread into strips and then into small squares. you occasionally would feed him imperfect pieces before putting them in a glass bowl.
thankfully, you had gotten out a stick of butter earlier so that you didn’t have to push nico off to go and get extra butter from the fridge. you cut out a good chuck, eyeballing it rather than actually using the measurements on the paper wrapping. after getting the butter into a glass measuring cup, you lean up and place the cup into the microwave that was over the oven and place it in for thirty seconds. the movement had drawn out a complaining groan from nico.
nico took the brief time to press a few kisses to your neck before you pushed his head away a bit.
you awkwardly grabbed the measuring cup from the microwave after letting it cool for a few seconds. you ignore the slight burn from the heat of the glass. you pour the butter over the cut up squares of sourdough bread that had been put into the glass bowl.
it was quiet work, really. besides the sound of you cooking, but even that was relaxing. the feeling of nico breathing against you, his warmth and the overall comfy feeling in the apartment was nice.
you grabbed the can of non stick spray and sprayed it on the pan, setting it aside after that. you hum quietly, adding the different few spices and toppings and mixing them in the bowl. it wasn’t a long process by any means. eventually though, you poured the bowl out on the pan and make sure everything was spread, at least vaguely, evenly.
“dude… move,” you say with a heavy, dramatic sigh as you nudge lex out of the way lightly with your foot to access the oven. you bend down a bit to put the tray into the oven.
“are you going to let go now so i can sit down?” you ask as you set a timer for ten minutes.
“can i come with?” nico asks with a head tilt
“baby… i’m going to the couch. why wouldn’t you?” you respond, turning in his arms to look up at him.
“…so, is that a yes?” he mumbled, pressing a few kisses to your face.
you sighed, pretending to ponder for a second. “mmm.. yeah, sure, whatever.” not like you’d tell him no anyways.. actually, maybe to watch him sulk for a few seconds before he picked up that you were teasing.
nico let you out of his arms before watching you walk over to the couch. you flop down on it with a huff… only for nico to, carefully, flop on top of you. his head laid on your chest, just peering up at you with those love filled eyes. lex sauntered over nearby, licked at nico’s hand for a second before going elsewhere.
you smile, cupping one of his cheeks.
“hi, handsome,” you mumble.
nico only smiled in response, smile widening when he felt your thumb tracing his dimples.
“hi, pretty,” he cooed, simply basking in your presence. he was like a house cat sometimes.
the time spent waiting for the oven timer was peaceful — just quiet chatter and nico occasionally trying to grab your hand to press kisses to your palm.
when the timer went off, the beeping from the oven went on for a few long seconds. that caused lex to come out from whatever room they had hid in and to bark at the noise. nico slowly pulled himself up, clicking his tongue and pushing you back down when you tried to get up.
“no, stay,” he warned lightly in that captain tone he had. you just sigh, fondly rolling your eyes and laying back against the cushions.
nico walked into the kitchen, turning off the timer and oven. he grabbed an oven mitt, pulling the tray out of the oven after opening it. he sat it on top of the oven before walking over to get a ziplock bag. it took a minute as he made sure to get all the pieces of the home made croutons into the bag before setting it aside. he rinsed the pan off, setting it in the sink with a mental reminder to wash it later.
he pat lex on the top of the head before walking back into the living room. he placed the top of the bag onto the coffee table, pushing lex’s nose away from it lightly before laying back on top of you.
“mm, my hero,” you tease with a toothy smile.
“shut up and let me love you,” was all nico responded with, cupping your cheeks gently as he pressed kisses to your face.
that was truly one of his favorite things to do whenever he could.
( -` 💋 ´- ) i hope this was decent at the very least !! i’ve been hella busy this past week and it sucks, highkey.. anyways might do something based on this thing i said later
✮⋆˙ summary - Rumours start swirling about Nico dating someone he absolutely isn’t. The media’s relentless. So the PR solution? Announce a girlfriend. A real one, except it is you.[2,3k]
✮⋆˙ warnings - I did changed the prompt a little bit so it fits the story better - “But are you sure you want this? Because once we start, you will be stuck with me forever.”, contains insta post.
✮⋆˙ author's note - Here you go sweetie, hope you like it!
✮⋆˙ please reblog guys ˙⋆✮
Nico had absolutely no idea how the media came up with the fact that he, out of all players, is dating Lola Tung. He didn’t even know who she was until Luke came to him and told him that she was an actress.
Nico didn’t really watch tv. He doesn’t have time for that either, and the fact that all the time he has is for sleep, hockey, and hockey dinners is even more confusing for him.
He had been sent a lot of articles from his teammates and even some other Swiss players from the league. He read them all, but there wasn’t any valid proof, not even a picture of them together somewhere.
That is why he is now sitting in the Devil’s PR office, waiting for the head of the PR team, you and Coach Keefe, to enter.
“Nico,” Coach’s voice rings through the room as the three of you enter. His eyes immediately land on you, and you give him a small, reassuring nod.
“Coach,” he nods at him, before he looks at Martin and you. “Martin, Y/n.”
“Hello, Nico, please sit down, we have a lot to talk about.” Marting motions to the chair Nico was sitting on earlier, as he and you make your way behind the table. Coach takes a seat next to Nico, patting him reassuringly on the thigh.
“So, did you come up with some plan, or something?” Nico asks nervously. He mentally stops himself. Why the hell is he even nervous when he did nothing wrong?
“Yeah, we have two plans,” you say, looking him in the eyes. “One is you posting a statement that you don’t know who Lola Thung is, that the two of you never even met before.” You wait a second for Nico to process it. “But the thing is, that this one probably won’t be as efficient as the second one.”
“Which is?” he asks, resting his elbows on his knees and leaning on them.
“You announcing a different relationship. It has to be an intimate yet private picture of you and the woman in it.” This time, it is Martin who speaks. He is leaning against his seat, his left ankle propped on his right knee.
“And who am I supposed to post when I don’t date?” Nico asks with confusion. He doesn’t have time for dating, so he is really confused about this plan.
“And we know that Nico, that is where y/n comes up,” Martin says, taking both you and Nico in surprise. Even though you came up with this idea, you had no idea about this part of the plan. “She will be your fake relationship.”
“Wait, what?” You look up, a confusion written all over your face, just like on Nico’s. “You didn’t tell me that.”
“I know,” Martin says, looking at you with a soft smile. “But you are the best choice. You and Nico know each other. You work together, and let's say the fans love you together. Plus, you know exactly what to post, so it is a win for Nico.”
You are about to say something, but Nico beats you to it. “I mean, it is not a bad idea. We already know each other, as Martin said. And I would probably come to you anyway,” he lets out a soft chuckle.
“Are you sure?” you ask him, your eyes still wide from the shock. You know it will be nothing but a few pictures, some dates, so the media can feed on it. But what no one knows is that you like Nico more than you should.
You know exactly why fans love you together. Nico is handsome, and he is always polite to you, smiling widely when he sees you by the rink, taking pictures of the team.
“Yeah, Y/n. I am.”
Later that day, Nico is sitting in the locker room, his hair damp from the shower he took a few minutes ago, as he waits for the boys to leave. They had afternoon practice, so he didn’t even go back home after the meeting.
And won’t for another hour since he is meeting you to discuss how this fake relationship is going to work.
“You are coming, Neeks?” Timo asks, standing in front of his booth, as he packs his things.
“Ah, no. I have a… meeting.” Nico smiles at him tightly.
“Okay,” Timo says, his accent somehow thicker than usual. “See you tomorrow.”
“Yeah, bye.”
When Nico hears the door shut behind Timo, he lets out a sigh. He stands up and starts to get dressed. In ten minutes, he is making his way up the stairs to your office.
He knocks on the door, as he waits for your soft ‘come in’. As soon as he hears it, he walks in, setting his duffel bag on the ground.
“Hey Neeks,” you say, not looking up from the iPad in front of you as you make some posts for Instagram. “Give me a minute, please,” you murmur absently, typing away on the screen.
“Sure,” Nico mumbles, then sits in the chair in front of your table. His eyes roam your office as he patiently waits for you to finish your job.
“Okay, I’m done,” you close your iPad, eyes landing on Nico. He locks your eyes, a small smile spreading on his lips. “So, you ready?”
“Yup,” he nods, his eyes still staring deeply into yours. “So, how will this work?” he asks, not wasting any time, and you like this about him. Always straight to the point.
“Well, we have two options for how to do this, but I think that if you want to stop the media from spreading rumours about you and Lola, then we need to be everywhere. And I mean everywhere.” You look at him, interlocking your hands as you lean against the table.
“Okay, sure.”
“That means, you have to post a statement on Instagram that you and I have been together for a few months now, and that you don’t appreciate the spreading rumours like that,” you explain. Nico is quiet as he lets you speak. “Which also means, we have to attend every event together as a couple and go on a few dates. So basically, we have to act like a normal couple in love.”
“Okay, we can do that,” he smiles at you, with his usual polite smile, and you nod too.
“Definitely. Which reminds me, would you mind dropping me off at my apartment?” you ask hesitantly, looking at him with your big green doe eyes.
Nico could never say no to you. He has a soft spot for you that no one except for him knows about. He realized it a few months ago that he had an enormous crush on you. That night, you, Nico and some guys from the team were out in a club, celebrating the Devils’ win.
You were in this ridiculous, tight dress that hugged your curves so perfectly. You were laughing at something he said, and in that moment, he realized he wanted your laughs to be only his.
“Yeah, sure, but I was planning to do some shopping,” he says, scratching the back of his neck.
“Okay, I can go with you. I need to buy some groceries anyway,” you grin at him, slowly standing up from her seat to pack her things. “Plus, it can be a soft launch of our relationship.”
“Sounds good to me.”
nicohischier
liked by yn.surname_, jackhughes, lhughes_06, njdevils and others
nicohischier I am not a person who responds to rumours, but this one has been going on for a long time now and crossed the line.
For a few months now, I have been in a serious relationship with an amazing woman. We wanted to keep our relationship private for a couple of months, but since this whole thing came up, I and Y/n decided to speak up.
Until the first article came up, I had no idea who the person was. We never met or were in the same room. The rumors circulating are false and inappropriate. They’re disrespectful to my relationship and unfair to the person being wrongly involved.
I am in a committed relationship with someone who means everything to me. I love her. I respect her. And I would never do anything to jeopardize what we have.
It’s important to remember that real people are involved here. Spreading narratives that aren’t real can hurt people who don’t deserve it. Please be mindful and respectful moving forward.
Thank you.
-N. Hischier
tagged yn.surname_
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It has been two weeks since Nico posted the announcement, and the media is losing interest in him and Lola, instead the focus is on you and him.
You are now sitting behind your vanity table, getting ready for your ‘date’.
Nico is taking you to one of the fanciest restaurants in Newark. It is one of the best things to do for media, but not so for you.
During the past two weeks, you realized that your crush on him only grew, and even though you knew that this whole thing was fake, your heart didn’t care.
What you don’t know is that Nico has the same problem, maybe even worse, because he slowly came to the realization that he is in love with you. Which really scares him. He was never in love, not even in his teenage years, so when he realized he loved you more than he should, he was scared, but he didn’t show it.
A doorbell sounds through your apartment, and your heartbeat increases. You shot up to your feet and ran towards the door to open it, revealing Nico. Your eyes travel down his body, which is clad in a dark suit that hugs his body so perfectly you can see all his muscles under it.
“Hey,” He chuckles, catching you ogling him. “You ready?” he asks as if he didn’t notice, and you are really glad about that. Because you are so embarrassed that he caught you.
“Y-yeah, just give me a second, please.”
Thirty minutes later, you are walking down the street, your arm hooked around his as the two of you make your way towards the entrance of the restaurant. Both you and Nico notice the few photographers on the street taking photos of you, and you can feel your hold on Nico tighten.
“You okay?” he leans down, asking you.
“Yeah, just not used to this.” You smile at him, tightly slowing down as you reach the door. Nico, being the gentleman he is, opens the door for you and with his large hand sprawled on your lower back, he leads you inside.
You are immediately stopped by the lady behind the reception. “Hello, how can I help you?”
Nico steps beside you, the hand on your back warm and secure. “Hello, we have a reservation at six pm. Hischier.” He says, his voice full of confidence, as his thumb circles gently on your back.
The lady looks through the diary before she looks up at us with a polite smile. “Of course, Mr. Hischier. Please follow me.”
In no time, you are sitting at your table that is located in the further part of the restaurant, but is still visible from the street.
“Here are the menus,” the lady places the two menus in front of you. “Your waiters will be here in a few minutes to take your orders.”
“Thank you,” Nico says politely, his eyes focused on you.
The night goes on perfectly. You and Nico have so much fun as you talk about everything. You learnt a lot about his childhood, just like he did about yours.
You laughed at each other's embarrassing moments in your lives as you enjoyed the night. It also involved a few innocent touches, but to you, they felt intimate.
And so does to Nico because now, his hand is lying on top of yours as he rubs your knuckles softly. You are both looking deep into each other's eyes, no words needed, as you just look at each other.
The first one to break the silence is Nico. “Y/n,” he whispers.
“Yeah?” You cock your head, a soft smile spreading on your lips.
“I am going to do and say something that might ruin everything, but I need you to know it.” He says in a serious tone. You can feel your breath hitch in your throat and your heartbeat quickening.
“Okay.”
“I uh…” Nico clears his throat, interlocking your fingers as he brings your hand to his mouth, kissing your knuckles. “I don’t know how it happened, but during those few weeks I realized I fell in love with you so hard that I can’t think of anyone else but you,” he murmurs, his eyes never leaving yours. “And I know that this whole thing is probably just a PR thing to yo-”
“No, it’s not,” you say, shaking your head. “I uh… I love you too Nico,” you blurt out, not realizing how desperate you sound. “So stupidly much. And you have no idea for how long.” You let out a soft chuckle. Before you can say anything else, you can feel Nico’s lips pressed against yours in a soft yet firm kiss.
You melt into the kiss, enjoying the feeling of his hand on your cheek as you both lean against the table for better access.
When you pull away after a minute, your cheeks are probably a deep shade of red as you look into Nico’s bright, sparkling brown eyes.
“So does that mean that we are a real thing now?” you ask him, biting down on your lower lip.
“Yeah,” Nico blurts out, but stops himself. “But are you sure you want this? Because once we start, you will be stuck with me forever.”
“I am, because I want forever with you.” you immediately cringe at your words, but the soft chuckle coming from Nico was worth saying it.
Warnings: crying, comfort, sick!reader, fluffy, non sexual shower.
When Nico opened the front door he wasn't expecting to hear crying, as he walked further into the house, he sees you curled up on the couch crying into a pillow.
"Baby what's wrong?" Nico says dropping his stuff and coming to sit beside you.
You sniffle before answering, "My stomach hurts."
"Did you throw up?" Nico asks
"No it's just been hurting like I will throw up all day" you reply.
Nico checks you for a fever, "you feel a little warm."
"Let's get you some water and some light food" Nico says.
He carries you to the kitchen and gets you some water, along with some crackers which you manage to keep down. Nico carries you to the shower where he helps you get cleaned up, he does you skincare routine perfectly having watched you do it multiple times. He gets you into some comfortable clothes and tucked into bed.
"I feel much better" you say, "Thank you baby."
"Anytime love" Nico says kissing your forehead as you drift off to sleep. He runs his hands through your hair before drifting off himself.
