#ross colton fanfic

[cellythefloshie]

;; Tainted Love 500 Follower Celebration

Summary: The stars seem to align for the first time when you and Ross Colton meet up for drinks while the Colorado Avalanche are in town. But it's a dangerous game you're playing because the spark is still there and is hard to ignore even with the both of you being spoken for. Kinks & Tropes: CHEATING (putting this in all caps because I want to make sure it's clear. It is a very prominent theme in this fic), alcohol consumption, car sex, unprotected sex, no forms of contraception used, pull-out method, dirty talk Word Count: 4.5k+

I've got to get away from the pain you drive into the heart of me.

The cold, caught somewhere between a fall and winter wind, reddened your cheeks more than blush ever could. It stung as you walked through the quiet streets; you head down and the collar of your jacket popped in a desperate attempt to stay home. It was late, the only life seen in the bars and restaurants on either side of you as you passed. The streets were empty, the bustle of traffic long forgotten. The only vehicle was a single cab picking up patrons or dropping them off. There were still four hours until closing time. 

This, usually, was late enough for you to crawl into bed. You'd throw on a Netflix show, or listen to an audio book until you fell asleep. But you made plans. With your boyfriend out of town, you shouldn't have, but you did. 

You felt like you had to, because this might have been the only opportunity you had to see Ross. 

In town for one night only, and with his curfew broadened just because they had granted him more time to spend with his family, you couldn't say no. You never had said no to him either. The two of you shared a connection like you couldn't describe. Ever since you had first met on a dating app after one casual swipe in the right direction, you had clicked.

And even after the first date didn't work out, the encounter lasted no more than 5 minutes. You still kept in touch. You would get the occasional check in text. But beyond that, the two of you had gone your separate ways. 

You had your boyfriend, and months later he had his girl. And your respective relationships remained unbroken, fully committed. But in time, even after months of not speaking to one another, you always ended up in each other's messages. Just to catch up, nothing more, always innocent - or at least, that was what you told yourselves. 

And that's what meeting up in a bar you'd never been to would be. Just catching up over a drink. Nothing more. 

That was what you told yourself when you stopped at the front door, her head tipping back to look up at the dimly lit sign. Your body quivered with a shaky breath. 

Nerves? No. Ross never made you nervous. 

You knew what you were feeling, but you couldn't admit it to yourself. It was wrong. Yet, you did it anyway. 

You were greeted with a gust of warmth, a smile spreading over your face as you entered the busy bar. Bodies crowded around the bar top, music blared, and each television was broadcasting one sports event or another. 

Finding a table near the back, the broadcast talking about tomorrow's Devil's game was a welcome distraction. You watched it as you draped your jacket over the back of your chair, and as you glanced over the menu, you had pulled up on your phone with the help of the QR code stuck on the tabletop. It was a distraction more than anything. You almost always ordered the same drink, no matter where you went. You just wanted to look busy until Ross arrived. 

He announced his arrival discretely to not draw the attention of the surrounding people. He did it simply by speaking your name as his hand caressed over the small of your back in a featherlight touch. 

Your smile was too wide as you answered him, “Ross.”

Without thought, you stood up from your seat and threw your arms around him in a brief embrace. And he returned it, the strength of his arms wrapping around you and pulling you close. And for a moment, the two of you just stood there - just long enough to enjoy his embrace, but not long enough for it to be awkward. Then, your limbs fell away from him so naturally as you perched yourself back up on your chair. 

From there, you admired him as he rounded the table to sit across from you. Ross was over dressed in every sense of the word. He wore a white button down, your eyes drawn to the black buttons that trailed down his chest, and he shrugged off his sports coat, the color one you couldn't quite make out under the dim multi-color lights of what you deemed a dive bar. 

He draped the coat over the back of his chair, and his eyes that were bright with his smile found you. 

“I'm a bit over dressed, huh?” His question laced with a chuckle as he sat. 

You nodded. “Just a bit.” 

“Just came from dinner with the family,” he explained, as if you needed one. You weren't going to complain. He looked good in a suit. There were worse things you could get stuck looking at. 

“How was it? They must have been excited to see you.” 

And that was how the conversation began. So effortlessly, so naturally, as you moved from one topic to the next. His family, yours, how he had settled into Colorado, his girlfriend, your boyfriend. You talked about it all over a drink that quickly led to two. 

Once you finished sucking back nothing more than melted ice cubes from the bottom of your glass, you were cursing yourself for being such a lightweight. You could feel the buzz of alcohol coursing through you. The jitters in your hands, and the racing of your heart in your chest. One drink more and your brain would have fogged, but there wouldn't be another. 

It was late, and Ross was already asking for the bill. 

He paid it in full. 

“Thank you, you didn't have to do that,” you said as you stood up from your seat. Thankfully, you didn't waver on your feet. 

“You can cover it next time,” he said in such a way you believed him. 

But you knew there wouldn't be a next time. He would be flying back to Colorado after the game, and he had a girlfriend. You had a boyfriend. It couldn't happen again. It shouldn't. 

Together, you shrugged on your coats in the first awkward silence of the evening. Was this where you should say goodbye? Should you let him go on ahead and order yourself some water?

“Let me walk you to your car?” Ross’ voice cut through the silence. He had made up your mind for you. 

You nodded. “Yeah, sure. That'd be great.”

Keeping your head down, you left the bar together. Ross’ frame leading the way through the crowd that was now dwindling. It would be closing time soon. 

Stepping out into the cold air, you took in a sharp exhale. Its harshness almost left you light headed - or maybe that was the alcohol. 

You should have drunk some water. 

“I'm parked just up this way,” you told him and began the walk along the sidewalk with a casual stride. 

You walked together, your arms bumping up against one another with each casual stride. The contact left a soft smile on your lips, your gaze rising to look at him out of the corner of your eye. His hands had dipped into his pockets, and his collar popped to keep himself from the cold. And you stared for a moment, admiring how the city light reflected off his features. And how it ignited his too-perfect smile when he caught you staring. 

“You look amazing tonight,” his voice cut through the silent street, sending goosebumps to rise on your skin. 

Your smile tugged a little tighter at your cheeks. 

He shouldn't be giving you a compliment like that. You shouldn't have liked hearing them. But you didn't stop them. 

“Thanks, but I feel a little underdressed.”

Ross’ smile split wider, and a laugh erupted from his lips as he threw his head back. It was a laugh so comforting, so familiar, that it warmed your entire body as you came to stand in the empty parking lot where your vehicle sat alone. 

“This is me,” you gestured to the mid size SUV with the lazy sway of your arm. 

“Well,” he sighed out almost hesitantly, “it was really nice seeing you-”

You nodded slowly. “Yeah. Yeah it was.”

For a moment, the two of you just stood there, smiles on your faces and your eyes fixated on one another. Unmoving. Not quite wanting to leave. 

Then, he was stepping forward, his arms encasing you in his embraces, and your arms winding around him in return. Your cheek rested against his chest, his warmth radiating to you as he held you. You stood there, your eyes shutting for a moment as you relished in the feeling of him. The feeling of his arms wrapped around your body. The feeling of his hands on your back, and one dipping down. Down to where your ass peeked out from the edge of your jacket. There he gave it a gentle squeeze, and you could feel his gentle exhale as your own was trapped in your own chest. 

He shouldn't have touched you like that. 

You shouldn't have let him. 

And you shouldn't have liked it. 

Drawing back slowly, you tilted your head back to look up at him. And Ross was looking back down at you. His bright eyes were half closed in a dreamy gaze and the corners of his smile had gone soft, leaving his lips slightly parted as he let out each exhale. 

It washed over your face in a blossom of heat, and smelt of the sweet alcohol on his tongue. Ross’ face was so close to yours you could practically taste it–no, you just wanted to. 

“Good luck tomorrow,” you muttered out a quiet goodbye, your limbs not ready to recoil away from his body yet. 

“You should come, I can get you a ticket,” he offered, his words a breath into your hair that ignited your skin as he spoke. 

“I might take you up on it,” you told him, but you wouldn't. 

“I'll see you soon,” Ross sighed, his words igniting your skin as he spoke. 

Yeah, sure you will. Was what you wanted to say. To mock him with those words and a hint of a laugh. Because you knew how this would go. You would go home tonight, and Ross would go back to the hotel room. He would ask if you made it home safe, and you would answer. But then you wouldn't hear from him for days, weeks, maybe months until you crossed his mind again, or he was left with the lonely opportunity to message you. 

Instead, you said nothing, and you smiled a soft, tired smile. 

It was then his hands fell away from you, his touch trailed down your curves, ghosting over the peaks of your hips before you were void of his touch, his warmth, and left numb by his absence. 

So suddenly you felt cold, empty as you stood there in the parking lot. Your head spun, your eyes shutting tight as you tried to process a single thought. But there, as you sought for reason, for logic, there was only action. 

Your arm lurched out before you could stop it, and your hand found what it was looking for as fingers wrapped around Ross’ wrist and dragged down to coast over his palm. Your fingers traced over each crease slowly until you could feel his fingers so close to slipping away, but then his hand captured your hand in return. 

The sudden grasp of your hands together had his body recoiling into your own. There was a moment of tension in your arms before Ross stepped back into his place in front of you. Then, he took another step, forcing you to step back again and again until you were trapped between his body and your car door. He didn’t say a word, and neither did you. You didn’t have to. You could see all of what he wanted to say in the look of his eyes and how they searched yours so desperately for what you wanted from him. 

But what was it that you wanted? 

You said your goodbyes, yet it didn’t feel like enough. It never did, and that was probably why you so desperately clung to any kind of relationship with him. To fill and satisfy a void your boyfriend left in you, but also in hope that one day have the satisfaction of being with him the way you always thought you might but never could be. 

You had always run to Ross in a sense, especially during hardships. He knew you better than most, and he knew more of your secrets than anyone - and you were the same for him. Through tears and through laughter, the love you shared was unique. Unlike any other. Tainted. So close to friendship, but there would always be more. 

And for the first time, it truly felt like you could finally cross those lines together. With his girlfriend back in Colorado, and your boyfriend away on business, it almost felt like fate that the two of you were left alone in New Jersey together. 

His girlfriend didn’t know you existed, but you knew about her. 

Your boyfriend didn’t know he existed, but Ross knew about him. 

The two of you knew every little detail of each other's lives with your partners and helped each other through problems in your relationships that no one else seemed to understand. And it all seemed to be for nothing as you stood there in the night just waiting, hoping that he would kiss you. 

You held your breath as Ross’ hand came up to stroke over your cheek. His touch was so warm, so gentle, that it left your every thought melting from your brain. You held no worry, only anticipation that coiled in the depths of your stomach and left your limbs to tremble. All you could focus on was his fingertips and how they traced every angle of your cheek, down over your jaw, and finally to your lips that quivered with an uneven breath. 

It left your chest aching as you held the softened gaze of his eyes as they moved in as he closed the distance between you. You managed a single jagged breath before it was stolen from you, the warmth of his mouth all consuming as the kiss started in what was the careful brush of his lips against your own. 

Then, it was like a dam broke. 

There was no innocence in how Ross kissed you. His teeth moved hungrily against you, mouth open, and tongues gliding along one another before teeth clashed and desperate inhales were taken before you both dove further into self indulgence. It left you dizzy, your body pressed firmly back into the dirty door of your car. There, Ross knocked your legs just a single step apart and wedged a single leg between yours. You could feel him against the inside of each of your thighs, and so close to their apex. With just the single tilt of your hips, you could have ground yourself against him. Instead, you fumbled in your coat pockets for your keys. 

Your fingers moved over the buttons blindly in your pocket, moving over one button and then the other until the lights flickered and you heard the locks disengage. The loud thud was like the gunshot at the beginning of a race. You couldn’t move your hands fast enough, and neither could he as you both reached for the same door handle, his hand gripped your, gripping it and pulling open. It sent you stumbling away from the door and into his body that helped you into the backseat of your car. 

It was a spacious SUV. One you had slept in the back seat of on a road trip years ago. It wasn’t the most comfortable, but it was what you had, so it would do. You crawled up the length of the bench seats, giving Ross room to climb in behind you - but there was no space left between you when you heard the door shut firmly behind him. 

His hands were quick to find your body, his grasp so firm on your hips to draw you back into him. Your bodies were a knotted mess as you tried to get situated in the back, the driver’s side seat digging into your front, then your side, and finally your back as you threw your leg over his to straddle him. With his warmth back between your thighs, you stripped off your coat to try to ignore just how hot he made you. Tossing it aside, your hands were freed to explore. Your hands found his body, your touch stroking over the angles of his own face as you kissed him, tasted him. 

You were sure you had kissed him once before, but it had been so long you had forgotten the taste he left on your tongue. It was intoxicating, coaxing a moan up your lips as your hands found their place to rest knotted in the dark wisps of his hair. You toyed with the locks that would threaten to curl if they were only a little longer, as his hands trailed down the curves of your body. Ross caressed just under your breast, his thumb curiously reaching up and grazed just shy of your pert nipple that was pressing into the inside of your bra with the desperation of wanting to be touched. Then, his hands dipped lower over the circle of your waist, the rushed movement wrinkling the fabric, leaving the small of your back exposed. 

Touching your skin was like adding gasoline to an already raging fire. It sent Ross’ lips wandering from yours as his fingers stroked your soft, exposed flesh. His kiss traveled down over your chin, tickled your neck, and found your collarbone with a playful nip. It sent your heart racing. 

He knew you would like that. 

But you had to be careful. 

“No marks,” you breathed out, your eyes shutting as you tried to ignore why that had to be. 

“Yeah,” he breathed out quickly, “yeah, got it.”

With your exchange, it brought you both to a pause. Your chests heaved for breath, and your eyes seemed to look at everything except at each other. A decision needed to be made. You could stop before things could get any more complicated, or Ross could take off your shirt as he so desperately seemed to want to as his hand dragged along its delicate hem. 

You bit your lower lip firmly as you tried to look out the already fogged window. You could see the rainbow of colors that were the city lights shining through each drip of condensation. Focusing on a single droplet, you followed it down to the edge of the window and took a breath that escaped you with a sigh.

You knew what you wanted to do, but before you could say anything, Ross’ voice filled the air, “We don’t have to-”

Your head snapped to look in his direction. “You don’t want to?”

“That’s not what I'm saying,” he answered slowly, his teeth biting his own lip as his eyes fixated on yours. 

You knew what he was getting at. You were nervous, hesitant, but you knew you wanted this. You just needed the assurance that he wanted you as badly as you wanted him. 

“Ross…” you breathed out his name. It was the very beginning of the thought that threatened the very tip of your tongue, and that was left strangled in your throat as you felt Ross grip the swells of your hips. 

He held you firm in each hand, and with that hold, he guided you back and forth over his lap. Your hips angled instantly, grinding your needy core over the expense of his lap. You moved to and fro with his moments, and quivered at the feeling of his stiff cock beneath the thick seam of your jeans. 

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked you, his words slow and clear. He knew what he wanted, but he needed to hear it from you, too. Ross needed you to make the decision on your own, and to hear it from your own lips, even if he had already made up his mind for himself. 

“I-” you gasped out, your heart beating up into your ears like drums. It pulsed through your body, right through to your core that throbbed against the stiff outline of his cock. 

You should have told him to stop. 

You should have pulled your coat back on and sent him on his way. 

But you didn’t. 

“Don’t you dare,” you answered him after a moment, your voice stern, “just,” you took in a long inhale, “let’s be quick - unbutton your pants.”

Your bodies strained in the tight place as you both fought close quarters to undo your pants. You leaned back against the driver's seat to try to get the angle just right to work your jeans down, while Ross pressed down onto his heels and lifted his hips up high to work his hands just low enough for his cock to spring free. 

And while his pants rested around his knees, and that’s all he needed to do to be ready for you, you struggled. You let out a frustrated huff as the head of the driver’s seat dug into your back, and your arms fought the tight denim down your hips. The awkwardness left you slipping. Ross’ hand was quick to catch you before you could fall awkwardly onto him and his stiff cock that was so exposed, hard and ready for you to take him. 

“I got it,” Ross’ words were a rushed promise, his hands gripping the fabric and pulling them down your legs until they rested on the floor of the car with your shoes - but your panties they remained. You watched as Ross admired them for a moment. The simple pale colored lace that looked gray in the darkness. 

Your core clenched as his finger toyed with them, pushing and tugging at the fabric as he lured you back in close to him. And when you were a mere breath away, his finger dipped beneath the fabric and dragged along your slick core, if only just to tease you as he pulled the damned fabric to the side. 

“I wish I could enjoy you, the way you deserve to be enjoyed,” Ross hummed out, his hand guiding you forward to hover above the very tip of his cock. 

You nearly quivered at his words. Many times, he had told you how he would fuck you. How he would enjoy tasting your sweet cunt on his tongue before leaving you moaning as you took his cock like the slut girl you were. But there was no time for those luxuries. 

Angling yourself over his cock, you took hold of it in your cold hand carefully. The hiss that left his lips left your grinning, but it was him that was left with the last laugh as he thrust up into your wet cunt, leaving you overtaken by a pathetic whimper that came with the feeling of taking his cock inside you for the very first time. 

“You like that?” Ross asked you in a whisper, his hands remaining firm on your hips to guide him along his cock with the slow roll of your hips. 

You nodded feebly, your mouth opening to tell him just how good his cock felt, only to unleash a moan instead. 

“Look at you,” his grin grew, “so pretty as you take my cock, and taking it so well you don’t even have the words to tell me - and you’ve always been so good with your words,” he purred, “such a shame really.” 

Ross reached up with his hand, his fingers stroking over your lips as you were left on the verge of another moan. One you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of having just yet. 

“I like when you tell me what a dirty slut you are,” his thumb tugged at your lower lip playfully as he thrust up hard into your cunt, coaxing that moan you had choked back into the depth of your throat, “but you sure do have a pretty moan.”

Your core clenched around his cock at the compliment, your hands lurching forward to grip at the leather head rest behind him. 

“Shut up,” you spoke through grit teeth. 

“Oh?” he raised a brow up, his heels digging into the floor again and thrusting so deep your body couldn’t physically take him any further. “You don’t like when I talk dirty to you?”

Your core clenched again, then you gasped, “no, I-”

You moaned again, your entire body reverberating with the sound. 

“You’re so close, I can fucking feel how desperate you are on my cock.” Ross didn’t bite his tongue. He liked to see you so close to the verge of pleasure, practically melting in front of him, and your cunt flexing around him. 

With weak legs, you met every single thrust, but it wasn’t enough. Not for him and not for you, either. 

Ross gripped the fleas of your ass firm in both hands and used it as leverage as he lifted you up and guided you to lay out on the leather seats all without leaving the warm wet embrace of your cunt. With you sprawled out, Ross gripped your hips and guided your legs to wrap around his hips just right. Every thrust made you tingle, made you moan, and soon your toes were curling, your body near recoiling with pleasure. Yet, he thrust through each wave, through every flex of your core, sending his eyes rolling back in his own pleasure. 

“I’m close,” he choked out, your heart suddenly racing with panic. 

“Pull out,” you told him, voice stern, “I’m not, fuck I’m not on the pill. Pull out.”

“What?” he seemed shocked, his cock still buried deep inside you for a thrust, then another before he pulled out and found the warm embrace of his own hand. 

You lay there, panting, legs still quivering, as he worked himself through his climax. His face softened, his body arching over you as he painted the inside of your thighs and the leather seats with his cum. 

“Should have given me a heads up,” he panted out after a moment. 

“Would it have changed anything?” You countered. 

His head shook, “no, but I would have gotten you to suck me off or something-”

“You wish,” you shoved him playfully, “now, get your pants back on.”

Ross settled back into the seat the two of you had started in, but you remained laying there for a moment. You were seeing stars as you stared up at the ceiling, your one hand dipping between your legs and swiping over your cunt to make sure there had been no accidents before you put your panties back into place. Then, each of your moments had to be deliberate. The cum on the inside of your thighs had already begun to dry, but the cum on the seats was still hot and sticky. You couldn’t risk getting it on any of your clothes. It would have to be something you had to clean up before you got home, but first, you had to say your goodbyes. 

You pulled your pants up slowly in silence, then your shoes before you heard the door open and the cold night air infiltrated the car. It sent a shiver coursing through you, your hands desperately reaching for your coat as you slipped out of the car behind him. 

“Are you good to drive home?” Ross asked slowly, his hands in his pocket. 

You nodded. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Message me when you get in?”

You looked to your empty driver seat, “yeah, just-” you sighed gently knowing you would be going back to the apartment you shared with your boyfriend even if it was empty for the next week, “don’t be surprised if you’re blocked in the morning when you try to message me.”

Ross’ feature faltered into a frown. “Regretting me already?”

Your heart sank. You didn’t know how to feel, or how you would feel in the morning when you had the night to fully comprehend the choices you had made. 

“Regret you? Nah, never.” You gave him a reassuring smile as you stepped in, your hands on his chest as you pressed up to give him a goodnight kiss. It was a soft, gentle kiss, one that had you pulling back like the gentle rise and fall of waves until he pulled you back in with both hands and kissed you deeply, making sure that you left with the taste of him on your lips. 

Then, you got into the driver's seat of your car, and brought the engine to life with the turn of your key. It reeked of sex, of cum, but it was nothing a good wash and a new air freshener couldn’t mask - but even then as you sat there, your eyes fixed on Ross as he stood there in the parking lot, watching you leave, you barely noticed the smell. No, the heavy feeling in your chest was too distracting. This time really felt like a goodbye. And not just a goodbye for now, but a goodbye forever. 

[hockeyboysimagines]

Happy Birthday

Warnings-angst, fluff

At the rink/Brothers teammate/hurt-comfort/Love at first sight/Autumn birthday.

PSA I do not write for Ross Colton, but I did this for my bestie on her birthday! I can’t say enough good things about her. Thanks for being such a wonderful friend this year! I hope you have a great birthday🤍 Of you guys haven’t read her stuff you’ve been living under a rock. I hope this is everything you wanted!

Also, birthday girl got to pick the OC’s name🤍

Love you @cellythefloshie

“Make a wish!”

Ross grinned as he watched Gemma lean forward pushing her long hair back away from the candles and blew out a breath extinguishing the flames as everyone cheered around her. She caught his eyes and grinned as smoke furled from the burnt wicks of the candles and dissipated in the air.

God she gorgeous he thought in his head. He could never say that out loud to anyone.

And that meant ANYONE.

Ross had known Gemma Evans since he was a kid. Her brother, Jared was a longtime friend and teammate and growing up she’d always just been Jared’s little sister who’s room was down the hall. Until she turned 17. Ross had been away in Connecticut that November and for the first time had missed her birthday. He’d sent her a text and even a card and then had spoken with her sporadically during the rest of the season. When he’d come home, he’d been stunned to find that wasn’t Jared’s baby sister anymore. Like it was the first time he had seen her, he fell hard right there in her parent’s kitchen.

And that’s when his problems started.

Not only was it illogical for him to have feelings for one of his oldest friends younger sister, who he’d known since she was 3, but it also felt wrong. Like he was that weird older brothers friend creeping on his younger sister, the kind they always made fun of, but he couldn’t help it. She filled his brain day in and day out. No matter where he played, no matter who he dated, none of that mattered. She lived in every void in his brain. Over the course of the next few years he fluctuated between spending every chance he could near her and distancing himself. During the season it was easy to curb contact with her, but that didn’t mean he didn’t think about her. He could chalk up his absences and lack of contact to games and practice and whatever else he usually got up to during the season. But then he’d come home in the summers and she’d be there. Tan skin, long hair, bright white smile, and he couldn’t stay away from her. How Jared hadn’t noticed yet was beyond him but he was glad. That would be one awkward conversation to have.

And now he was here, watching her blow out the candles on her 25th birthday cake. By a stroke of luck, the Avs were in town to play the devils the following evening and even though her birthday wasn’t till next weekend, they’d made accommodations so Ross could be there for it this year. He hadn’t been around for a birthday in some time and it was nice to see his friends and some family. But as he’d glanced around the party he’d noticed someone was missing.

Dan, Gemma’s boyfriend, was nowhere to be found. He was alright, Ross didn’t want to hang out with the guy on the weekends or anything but he was okay. He’d never gotten any inclination that was unhappy or not being taken care of so he’d been friendly and cordial every time he’d been around him. It had sucked to see her with someone else, but as long as she seemed happy, Ross really couldn’t complain. He wasn’t making a move anytime soon, and realistically he knew she wouldn’t stay single forever. As long as he was nice to her that would be all that mattered. Jared however did not feel the same. He’d made an off handed comment once not long after Ross first met him that he didn’t like him, and never elaborated on why. Ross had always assumed it was just “overprotective big brother” but something nagged at him every time Dan came up in conversation. He’d asked Jared again the following summer and he just shrugged and said something felt off about him from the beginning and he still felt that way. He said Dan went out of his way to show what a good boyfriend was, and it all felt fake to him. Ross had been thinking about it since then and though he felt like it was partially bias, he agreed. Every time he’d been around Dan was always hugging her, kissing her, bragging about things he did or vacations they went on together. He was over compensating and it all felt like it was for show, and for a bit of time he even wondered if it was for his benefit. Jared might have been blind towards the affection Ross showed for Gemma, but maybe Dan wasnt. Maybe Jared had chalked it up to “brotherly sisterly we’ve known eachother our whole lives affection”, but Dan saw him as a threat. Which was silly because Ross had always treated Gemma with respect and was never flirtatious when people were around. But he couldn’t change the way he looked at her. That would give his true feelings away every single time. He wondered now idly if that had anything to do with his absence. If Ross could make it while the season was in full swing, Dan had no excuse.

She by now, had made her way around the table with a large smile and hurried over to him.

“Happy Birthday!” He said as she wrapped her arms around his midsection and squeezed him.

“Thank you. Im so glad you could be here.” She had her head resting on his chest eyes closed. Her hands were gripping the material of the back of his shirt tightly. He wondered if she could feel how fast his heart was beating.

“I wouldn’t miss this one. Halfway to 50.”

She pinched his side and he jumped with a small laugh and shook his head “Kidding of course. Glad I could be here.”

“Me too. How long are you in town for?”

“Till tomorrow after the game. Then we play in Philly the next night.”

She nodded and glanced around “Let’s do something after this. If you want that is.”

“Sure.” He said, a little too fast, and then cleared his throat “What-uh like what?”

She glanced up in thought “I’ll let you think of something.”

He swallowed thickly, knowing full well what he’d like to do but he was sure that idea was off the table, so instead he said “Let’s go skate.”

She smiled and nodded “Deal.”

When Gemma was 5 and Ross was 7 he and Jared had taken her skating with them one day and instead of her sitting on the sidelines complaining about the cold, they stuffed her feet in skates and taught her how. She wasn’t very good, and by now was probably even worse than before, but he would help her through the whole thing if it meant he got to be that close to her and potentially hold her hand.

She was called away then by her friends but she paused and turned back to him “It really is so good to see you.”

He watched as she walked away with a little sigh.

“Dude.” Jared slapped him on the shoulder startling him and handed him a beer “Thanks for coming. It’s good to see you.”

They chatted for a few moments before he approached the subject because he was about to explode with curiosity “Hey uhm-where’s Dan?”

The smile slipped from Jared’s face slowly like rain drops running down glass. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure Gemma wasn’t close enough to hear him before he turned back to Ross.

“They broke up last month. It was pretty bad.”

Ross fought the smile that was trying desperately to spread across his face and pretended to look shocked “What? Why? I thought things were good with them.”

Jared pursed his lips “Me too but apparently not. You know I never liked him, but he obviously wasn’t going anywhere so I got along with him for her sake. She was supposed to move in with him in December. She had her stuff packed and everything and then he just broke up with her one day, blocked her number and that was it. She was crushed.”

“Really? What an asshole. I had no clue.”

“Tell me about it. I didn’t say anything cuz I felt like it wasn’t my business to tell, but he's lucky I haven’t seen him yet because when I do. Game on.” Jared made a pounding motion with his right fist on his left hand.

Ross chuckled and nodded “I’m sure he’s making himself scarce knowing your around looking for him.”

“You ain’t kidding. I haven’t seen him not one time. No idea where he’s at.”

“Out catching VD probably.” Ross said off handedly eyes moving back to Gemma who was talking with his mom.

Jared laughed and gave Ross a nudge “Probably. She’s been really down, so I figured seeing you would cheer her up. Glad you were able to make it this year.”

“Seeing me?”

Jared rolled his eyes “Yes you. Come on my sister loves you. Always has, and I think-“

“Jared get over here!” The turned to find Jared and Gemma’s dad, Rob waving his son over.

“Hang on-“

“Wait I-“ but he was already gone leaving Ross wondering what he was going to say.

I think….you like her.

I think….you should date here

I think….you guys would have cute kids.

Woah hang on he said to himself furrowing his eyebrows calm down. No need to get carried away, even if it was totally true.

He hadn’t even spoken his feelings out loud yet, and he was already planning their first date in his head now that he knew he had no competition. Not that he saw Dan as competition just 2 minutes ago because he had accepted the fact that he and Gemma could never be anything. But now it was fair game. He could feel his chest puffing up and his spirit start to soar as he held his head a little higher. By the time her gathering started to die down, she appeared in front of him with her skates and an extra pair for him.

“Ready?” She asked with a smile. She was bundled in a black coat, long hair hanging down the back. The walk was only 15 minutes, but he walked as slow as possible knowing that this may be the last time he saw her during the season. He had to make his move now, because by summer she could be with someone else.

“So what do you think?” She asked speaking out into the night and little puff of fog coming from her mouth as she spoke. It jarred him from his internal monologue and he turned to her.

“About what?” He knew what she was asking but he played dumb.

“Ross.” She said with a small smile “I know Jared told you.” her smile started to slip a little and Ross felt a sinking feeling. He hated seeing her so sad. Dan had better count his days.

He sighed and nodded “ Yeah he did. Im sorry, I didn’t know or I would have reached out.”

She shrugged “It’s okay Ross. No one knew. And besides it’s not like it’s your job to know every aspect of my life anymore.”

“No but I mean if I had know I could have helped or something, and no I don’t need to know but I want to know.”

She smiled and looked at her feet “Oh yeah? Helped how exactly? I can’t cry on your shoulder from here in New Jersey.”

“Hey.” He said holding a hand out “I give great advice…by phone.”

She rolled her eyes and bumped him with her elbow “I didn’t tell anyone cuz I was embarrassed.”

He frowned “Why should you be embarrassed. The guy sounds like an asshole. I never liked him.”

“That’s what Jared said. It was tough I’m not gonna lie. I’m okay now but I wasn’t for a while. I wish I at least had an explanation for why he did it though.” She said quietly.

Ross nodded and kicked a rock out of the way as he walked “You know that him doing that was just a shitty thing right. Like that wasn’t your fault.”

“I guess. I dont think it was him though I think it was me.”

“What?” Ross asked eyebrows furrowing “Why would you say that?”

“I don’t know. If it wasn’t me then why would he just suddenly decide he didn’t love me anymore.”

Ross felt something stab him in the heart and for a second she was back to being Jared’s little sister when he saw the sadness on her face. He hated that. In an hour a guy who he’d always though was decent was now at the very top of his hit list. If Dan played hockey, Ross would have grabbed him by the sweater and pounded him knowing he’d only get a 5 minute timeout. Unfortunately if he did that off skates, the penalty would be worse.

“Hey.” Ross reached a hand out and stopped her from walking “Don’t think for one second that had anything to do with you. That’s his problem. You are beautiful and smart, and the best girl I know and if he can’t see that then you don’t need him in your life.”

Surprise registered across her face as she spoke “You think I’m beautiful?”

“Uh.” He ran his teeth across his bottom lip and then smiled nervously “Yeah. I mean of course. Everyone does.” He continued walking not looking back to make sure she was behind him. He wanted to kick himself in his own ass for being so damn stupid, especially since he wasn’t smooth enough to play that off in a clever way that wouldn’t make him look like a complete loser.

He heard her behind him and breathed a sigh of relief when the outdoor rink came into view, saving him from exposing himself anymore than he already had.

The air was brisk as they silently laced their skates, and made their way to the ice. Ross stepped on and took off, taking a full lap to calm himself down before he slowed down to match her pace. She was moving along fairly quickly and he looked her up and down with a smile, impressed.

“Have you been practicing?”

She turned and shrugged “A little. Years of you making fun of me inspired me.”

“I never made fun-“

“Liar!” She said jabbing him in the chest with her finger knocking herself off balance a little. She started to tip forward and he caught her by the elbows, her hands coming up to grip his jacket. She looked up, eyes moving up his face slowly. He glanced down at her mouth, then back up to her eyes before he let go of her arms and took a step back. Despite the cold, he’d broken out in a sweat under his shirt, and his face felt like it was on fire, a deep blush then was creeping from his neck to his face hidden beneath the collar of his sweatshirt.

He cleared his throat “Well you’ve gotten much better.”

She didn’t say anything just smiled and they skated in comfortable silence until he felt her hand brush his as she reached out to hold it. He froze a second, before he gripped her fingers back and glanced at her.

She was smiling “So how long have you thought I was beautiful.” She asked side eyeing him.

He chuckled and rolled his eyes, thankful that the dark was hiding the redness in his face that hadn’t gone away yet “I don’t know. A while.” he tried to play it off like it was no big thing but Gemma knew him better than that.

“A while…Really?”

He nodded “Really.”

She looked deep in thought before she spoke again “But like how long? Why didn’t you say anything before. Why are you saying it now?”

“Like in terms of years? A long time. And I don’t know really. Just didn’t feel like keeping it to myself anymore. It’s been in there long enough.” He pointed to his head and made eye contact with her for the first time. She was staring straight through his soul, looking at him like she never had before.

She twitched her mouth back a forth as she fought a smile and looked back down at her skates, a redness pooling in her cheeks “Do you think it was me that made him want to leave? I mean is there something wrong with me?”

“No.” He said without a moment’s hesitation “I think he didn’t appreciate you like he should have. Anyone who treats you that way doesn’t deserve you. And even then I’m not sure anyone deserves you.”

She looked up slowly “What do you mean.”

“I just think that.” He paused trying to find the words without being too obvious “That your too good for most guys out there.”

She turned her head to the side and gave a short small smile before it faded again “Well I appreciate that but you don’t have to keep complimenting me to make me feel better.”

“I-what?” He frowned and peered down at her.

“I mean it’s okay really. I love that your being so supportive but I’ll be fine-“

“Wait wait wait hold on.” He waved his hand to silence her “I’m not just saying that to make you feel better Gemma, I mean that.”

She looked unsure and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear “Really?”

He nodded and let out a breath, steam filling the air “Of course it’s true. I’ve-I’ve always felt that way.”

“Then why have you never said anything?”

“Because I was your older brothers best friend. I didn’t want to be that guy. We used to beat up those guys. But I’ve always thought that about you. And then Dan came around and I figured that was my last opportunity out the window so I backed off. I just-“

But his rambling was cut off by her taking a giant step forward and smacking her lips against his hard before she jumped back and covered her mouth.

He put a hand up to his lip and then glanced up at her “Ow.”

“Sorry I- oh god sorry.” She was shaking her head mortified, hands over her mouth. She looked so damn cute standing there in front of him eyes wide, cheeks and nose red with a look of anticipation. She was trying to gauge whether he was annoyed or grossed out when he was neither.

He looked at his hand, then her and shrugged and taking a small glide forward “Don’t apologize.” He said softly.

She tucked a strand of hair nervously behind her ear, completely embarrassed that she’d nearly broke all his teeth by trying to kiss him “I just have only kissed one boy before so I have no idea what I’m doing, did I hurt you? Are you bleeding-“

He was smiling and chuckled “I’m fine.” He reached a hand out and gripped the front of her jacket, pulling her closer slowly “Are you okay?”

“I’m-I’m okay. Wait what are you-?” She was looking at him confused as she came to a stop in front of him.

“You said you kissed one boy before, and that’s the problem. He obviously didn’t know anything about kissing.” He reached a hand up to push her hair hair off her cheek and rested his hand there across her jaw and neck, pulling her face closer to his, thumb stroking across her cold cheek as he leaned down, and pushed his lips sweetly against her own, eyes closing. They rested there a minute before he moved them, and Gemma felt her world flip sideways. Kissing Ross wasn’t like kissing Dan. His hands knotted in her hair that was stuck in the collar of her jacket and he pulled her flush against him as he pulled away and came in at a different angle, tongue sweeping across her lower lip slowly. Goosebumps bloomed across her skin as they stood there kissing under the moon.

When he pulled away she let her eyes flutter open to find him staring at her. He smiled slowly and let out a breath.

“That’s how you should be kissed, always.”

She tried to speak but the words never came as she reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, pushing her face closer to his, brushing his with her own.

“Happy Birthday Gemma.” He whispered.

And then he kissed her again.

[mp0625]

Masterlist

Mara, 20 and I'm an American NHL & F1 Fan.

I currently write for NHL, F1, and Top Gun.

My friend and I have a discord for Tumblr Hockey Fans. If you are interested in joining. Click Here!

If you would like to be tagged in a upcoming fic shoot me a message

Requests and asks are Open.

Will write for most players and drivers.

Will not write for:

Tag List Form

Started: 7/22/2023

Last Updated: 3/24/2024

Total Works: 14

Drafts: 19

Inbox: 5

Queue: 1

If you see someone on a team that they’re not currently on that is because it was written when they were on that team.

Hockey Girlies Discord Christmas Fic Exchange 2023

F1

Daniel Ricciardo

Imagine being team mates with Daniel Ricciardo

Logan Sargeant

Lazy Sunday

Oscar Piastri

Aussie! Teammate with Oscar Piastri

Pass the Cranberries

NHL

Boston Bruins

Jeremy Swayman

Under The Moonlight

Carolina Hurricanes

Frederik Andersen

Elsker For @wyattjohnston 's Lowkey LoveFest 2k24

Pyotr Kochetkov

Sun and Sand

Teuvo Teravainen

Jouluiloa For @callsign-denmark for @wyattjohnston 's Winter Fic Exchange 2K24

Colorado Avalanche

Ross Colton

Ross Colton X Reader For @cellythefloshie Birthday Bingo

Florida Panthers

Matthew Tkachuk

Game Time

New York Islanders

Anthony Beauvilliver

Being With Anthony Beauvillier On His Last Day In New York For @swissboyhisch Suprise Birthday Fic

Fairytale of New York For @swissboyhisch for the Hockey Girlies Discord Christmas Fic Exchange

Seattle Kraken

Vince Dunn

Sushi

Philpp Grubauer

Pfirsich

Tampa Bay Lightning

Andrei Vasilevskiy

Svyatoy Patrik

NHL & F1 Crossover

Race To The Net Masterlist

[withwritersblock]

Send Requests :)

Who I write for currently:

Cale Makar

Nathan Mackinnon

Cole Caufield

Kirby Dach

Alex Newhook

Luke Hughes

Who I’m willing to start writing for:

Quinn Hughes

Jack Hughes

Bowen Byram

Nico Hischier

Ross Colton

And you are more than willing to ask for a specific player and I will let you know if I will write for them :)

[loudwolftraveler]

𝔒ℭ'𝔖 𝔑𝔞𝔪𝔢 𝔏𝔦𝔰𝔱 (Pt.1?)

A/N: Hello, hello! these are the OC's Name List, specifically the names of the original characters i have in my fanfic works so far that may publish here soon. I won't add the main cast of the MFJINX SERIES here yet. There will be more to go but these are the focusing OC that will play a role. More characters will also appear in the future ongoing series. 

OC = Original character.

WORDS: 672

---------  -------------  ----------------

In another life & history repeat itself characters.

The Main Cast: Husband and wife.

First name of the husband: Amillo Angles Bernadotte.

: The heir of the Bernadotte family.

: The future emperor of Bernadotte Empire.

: The lover of Sophia.

Second name of the husband: Chester Elsher.

: The reincarnation of Amillo Angles Bernadotte.

Wife's name: Sophia Herbert → Sophia Bernadotte.

: The illegitimate child of the duke Herbert from Herbert Household.

: Empress of Bernadotte Empire.

: The lover of Amillo.

The second name of the wife is based on the reader's name.

—------------

MFJINX SERIES: Mystery or Reminiscence?

.

World 1 (Arc 1): An Ideal Love For Flawed Pair.

-Main Cast of the Arc 1:

Heroine, Employee: Evelyn Wilson → Hero: Elise Wilson.

1st ML, CEO: Zian Hart

2nd ML, COO (MC): Anthony Mitchell

Antagonist?, Chairman: Cyrus Elrod 

.

World 2 (Arc 2): The Mafia's Darling And Her Desires.

-Main Cast of the Arc 2:

Heroine: Natalia Anderson

ML: Liam Ross (R.) Albrecht

ML's Fiance's (MC): Rachel Paterson

.

World 3 (Arc 3): On earth, You're Ours to Claim.

-Main Cast of the Arc 3:

Heroine: Eleanor Scott (Got a nickname of "Ellie")

Heroine's Brother: Jacob Scott (Got a nickname of "Caleb")

1st ML (Pride): Ashmit or "Ash" by Eleanor.

2nd ML (Gluttony): Gaurava or "Raj" by Eleanor.

3rd ML (Envy): Livius or "Livi" by Eleanor.

4th ML (Lust): Sharnaz or "Arna" by Eleanor.

5th ML (Greed): Isidore or "Isis" by Eleanor.

6th ML (Sloth): Morey or "rey-rey" by Eleanor.

7th ML (Wrath): Ursula or "Silas" by Eleanor.

.

World 4 (Arc 4): A world without you.

-Main Cast of the Arc 4:

Heroine: Diana Winfred

ML: Jeremiah Stewart (Subject-099, Nicknames: "Jerry" or "Jeremy")

Side character & The Villain? (MC): Emrin Reid (Subject-0100)

—-----------------

Your heart never belongs to anyone, not even me & A weird dream upon knowing everything.

Hellion Bruesewitz

Liliya Chiara (Cherly Rae possessed this character's body)

Eloise Chiara (step sister)

Isaac Ryder

Winter Grace

Xianna Bruesewitz (The Novel Mc, the daughter of both Eloise and Hellion)

Cheryl Rae (Mc)

—--------------

Sweet Lies (Ocs x oc) (SERIES)

Mentioned:

Ezra Darius

Sylvia Hensley

Cosette Hwang (Mc)

Characters will introduce later:

Ethan Colton

Luka Thomson

Amir Hansley (Older brother of Sylvia)

—-------------------

I would fall in love with a dominant woman like you. (M!Oc x Reader)

Huizhong Asrava

—------------------

The world I never wanted to be (Hsr SERIES) (X Gn!reader)

Benjamin Sylvester

Shin Keiko

Ji-hun

—-------------------

The old tale about once heroes. (SERIES, Miraculous ladybug concept idea) (Ocs x Oc)

Daughter: Magdalena or "Lena" Beaumont (Mc)

Papa: Zion Beaumont

Mama: Madeleine Wynn → Madeleine Beaumont.

Death son?: Theodore or "Theo" Beaumont

And more...

—-----------------------

Reincarnated as a love interest but I dislike the heroine. (Ocs x M!Oc) (SERIES)

Heroine: Daphne Swega

1st ML: Dylan "Sullivan" (The character the mc possessed.)

2nd ML: Isaac Lyle

3rd ML: Mike Andre

4th ML: Max Cecilia (C.) Adonis

5th ML: Helen Henry *Also known as "kierian"

6th ML: Alastair Raven

MC's Family

Older Brother: Chris Adler a.k.a Xavier Zack [Chris Z. Adler] (The mc)

Sister: Kristen Z. Adler

Father: Elijah Zack (Z.) Adler

Mother: Iris Z. Adler

Scarlett Thatcher (Chris' female best friend, also his close confidant in both his model and YouTube/Steamer career.) 

------------------------

That's all, as i told you on my conversation, there's more but i stil don't feel shy to publish those :') Hopefully if I am able to complete those and have a little confidence, i might be able to share those. Btw One is full of scenarios from the romance manhwa while the other one has parts.

Also from the sweet Lies, the prologue is done, probably around corner :)  

Yesterday i was scrolling to the youtube watch few videos here and there, then one of the video make my brain have a new idea 💀 PleAse T-T I can't have more ideas cuz my works will pile up T-T 

(I will write that idea now--)

- July 5

[cellythefloshie]

;; The Morning After The Honey Magnolia Collection

Summary: The morning after you and Ross hook up the first time you struggle to do the impossible: You have to hide it from your parents. And that's easier said than done when his mother finds evidence of a girl having been in his room. Read the Honey Magnolia Collection. Notes: “you” was written as an athlete (softball) recovering from an undisclosed injury that needed surgery to recover from, it left a scar.  Kinks & TW: stepcest, unprotected sex, bathroom sex, trying not to get caught sex. Word Count: 4015

Waking up in the morning wasn’t easy. Not during your recovery, and especially not after the night you had. You had been up too late. The early hours of the morning when you had crept back into your room feeling more like minutes than 4 hours of sleep ago as you lay sprawled out on your bed in nothing more than an old t-shirt. It was all you had pulled on after your walk of shame from Ross’ room down the hall. The lightweight fabric was enough to keep you covered if someone were to show up unexpectedly at your door, but best of all, it wasn’t heavy against the marks he had left on some of the most intimate parts of your body. 

You could feel the ache of them as you rolled out of bed and every step you took sent a quake through your breasts as you moved for a laundry basket of clean laundry you had yet to put away. You sorted through it by the fist full, pushing aside anything that would be too revealing for the breakfast table, and quickly settled on a sundress but made sure to tug a crewneck sweatshirt over top. The outfit wasn’t making any fashion statements with the look, and you were surely going to be a sweaty mess, but it covered up everything you wouldn’t have an explanation for. 

The marks were also the reason you wore your head down and even put makeup on the worst of them, even though you knew you were going to shower after breakfast. You were going to do anything to make sure no one could even think to question anything. 

That was easier said than done as you left the secrecy of your bedroom. You could conceal every inch of your skin if you wanted to, but there was no hiding the just-been-fucked confidence you always carried after a hookup. There was a bit of a hop in your step, and a smile constantly tugged at the corner of your lips as you made your descent down into the foyer. Worst of all, you felt rested for the first time in months and Ross’ mom noticed. 

“You’re cheery this morning,” she greeted you from the foot of the stairs, an empty laundry basket tucked under her arm as she prepared to go about her morning chores. “And awake before noon.”

“I know, weird, right?” you wrinkled your nose at her playfully, “must be all the sun I’ve been getting, all the rest.” You thought out loud with a shrug. 

But she wasn’t looking for an explanation. She was just happy to see you out of bed. “I’m going to be putting a load of laundry in. Do you have anything that needs to be washed?”

“No, I’m good. I still have to put my last load away, thanks though,” you smiled, making sure she knew that you appreciated what she did. You weren’t her daughter, but she treated you like one. 

Which made it all the more bittersweet as you looked to the right, through the archway, and to the living room. The television was on, but silent, the screen faded into that continue watching? message that blanket over the latest Netflix binge. He must have been up later than you had been, or at the very least he wanted to make it look like he was as he lay sprawled up on the couch in a pair of sweatpants and a loose-fitting t-shirt and nothing more to cover him than a throw blanket. He looked at peace as he lay there, his face soft, though you were sure he would have been more comfortable if he had slept in his bed. It left you feeling guilty, so much so that you thought about waking it to apologize. 

Instead, you let him rest. 

Retreating into the kitchen, you found the stool that you had claimed as your own since you were a teenager and smiled up at your dad as he worked at breakfast. He didn’t do much more than glance when he heard the stool drag across the floor before his focus returned to the scrambled eggs and bacon on the stove, but it wasn’t long until he was doing a double take. 

“My daughter, up this early? I must be dreaming,” he quipped, a bit of a laugh in his voice. 

“Ha, ha,” you forced out your mock laughter, “Very funny, Dad.”

“You sleep well?” He asked, the early morning small talk almost leaving you groaning. Any other morning, you would have been able to tolerate it. But the morning after sleeping with your stepbrother was not the morning you wanted to talk about how great you slept. 

“Yeah, great actually,” you said enough to satisfy him as nerves shot through you and you could sit still. Pushing up from your stool, you moved to the fridge and searched for something to drink. You hid yourself behind the fridge doors, carrying out the awkward-for-you conversation without looking back at him. 

Trying to distract yourself from the uneasy feeling in your stomach left your stomach heavy and left you unaware of what was going on behind you until the harsh sound of utensils being dropped behind you left you jumping back from the fridge. Your neck snapped toward the clamor and your eyes fell on your father and Kelly as they stood together, off to the side of the kitchen. They huddled around the laundry basket, looking down, and you watched as your father’s face turned a bold shade of red. He reached down into the laundry basket, and then he was gone - marching off into the living room. 

“Daddy?” you croaked out, your stomach sinking as you followed his stride. Just what had Kelly found while gathering the laundry? And why did not knowing leave you feeling on the verge of vomiting? 

Freezing in the doorway, you watched as your father pulled the blanket from Ross’s sleeping form. Then the pillow from beneath his head, sending it falling to the couch cushion with the gentle force being just enough to rouse Ross from his sleep. But your father didn’t wait for the tiredness to leave Ross’ eyes before he was shouting. 

“What did we say when you came home for the summer?” Your father’s tone was hard, disgusted, as Ross stared up at him with his eyes still heavy with sleep. “What was the one rule you agreed to?”

He was met by silence. That only angered him more, but it finally revealed just what your father was so upset about. From his hand, he threw the familiar glossy condom wrapper down onto the coffee table that rested between them. Then, his voice filled the living room with its booming authority, “No sneaking girls into the goddamn house!”

Hearing those words should have put you at ease, but you could still feel the knot in your stomach and the muscles in your shoulder grew tense as your father reprimanded Ross like some kind of child out for something that didn’t happen. He hadn’t snuck anyone into the house. But you had snuck into his room, and that left you feeling guilty. But not for what happened. You didn’t regret a single second of it. You just felt bad that he was taking the heat for it, but there was no telling the hell you both would be put through if your father found out what happened. 

You couldn’t even bring yourself to look at him in fear that if you looked at Ross the wrong way, everyone would know, but it was so very uncharacteristic of you to stand there in silence. You needed to chirp him for the mess he had gotten himself into. 

“We don’t need your puck bunny sluts coming around here, Ross,” the words that would have once given you so much satisfaction to say, felt almost unnatural leaving your lips. 

But it worked because Ross was looking at you with a slack-jawed annoyance that was the very definition of your relationship with him and your father was quick to point a finger your way. 

“He doesn’t need to hear it from you too,” his firmness remained, even as he spoke to you. But you were only his focus for a moment before his attention returned to Ross. 

“You won’t be doing this again,” your dad pointed his finger at him as if Ross was a small child, and he sat there like one, knowing all too well that fighting your father on this could expose something far worse. “Take her to a goddamn hotel or-” your father let out a long groan, his hand raising to rub over his face before he muttered, “At least you got the brain to use a fucking condom.”

That was the sentence that ended the one-sided argument that Ross hadn’t even tried to combat. He knew better than to go toe to toe with your father over that. But if he had, he would have tried to deny it. Your father would have fought him harder. And it would have been so easy for the family to be sent into turmoil with the simple fact that he hadn’t fucked some random puck bunny, but that the girl he was fucking was you. 

It left a sour taste in your mouth as you gathered around the kitchen island for breakfast. The four of you ate in an awkward silence, with Rob joining you halfway through the meal before he was out the door. And that left the four of you in silence. There was nothing but the sound of forks scraping against glass plates and the occasional frustrated huff from across the table as your father would look from you to Ross who sat beside you with his neck craned down to focus on nothing but the food on his plate. Defeated. 

You wanted to apologize to him for getting him into this mess, but you couldn’t. Not with his mother and your father still at the table. Not when an apology would bring to light what really happened. So, you did the only thing you thought you could to put him at ease. You propped your heel against the rung of the barstool at the counter and let your leg fall to the side slowly. Casually, your bare knee came to rest against his leg. 

Ross didn’t flinch away. Not even as your father got up from the kitchen island and excused himself from breakfast. He had work to do in his office, and his absence eased the tension in the room. 

With just Ross and Kelly there, you brought yourself to look up at him, your eyes almost pleading with their silent apology as his mom reached out to take your empty plate. 

“No, Mom, I got it.” Ross interrupted her reach, his hand reaching and taking your plate before her fingers could meet it. “I’ll clean up after breakfast, it’s the least I can do, really.”

Looking up from how his hand wrapped around the edge of your plate, you took in his mother’s features and how they softened at his words. The plates she held in her hand, she put down at the end of the kitchen island and rounded the corner to wrap her arms around her son before placing a kiss on the dark hair that contrasted her blonde. Then she muttered something to him, something you couldn’t quite hear. You weren’t sure if it was an apology on behalf of your father’s actions or an apology of her own for how things escalated further than she had intended to. But when they parted they exchanged soft smiles and Ross cleaned up the kitchen, leaving nothing but his warm behind on your bare leg. And Kelly’s attention fell to you. 

“I’m going to spend my day down on the beach. Did you want to come with me, and get some sun?” Kelly offered. 

On any other day, you would have accepted, but you wouldn’t be able to get away with wearing your sweater in the July heat. You needed its coverage to hide the marks her son’s mouth had left on her body, and there was no bathing suit in your closet that would even come close to covering anything. So you declined. 

“I’m just going to stay in today. I think I got too much sun by the pool yesterday,” was your quick excuse, and she required nothing more from you. Kelly was good like that. She never did. 

“I’ll meet you down there when I’m done here,” Ross assured his mother, drawing your eyes to him for but a moment before you were abandoning your stool in the kitchen and going upstairs. 

You would have to save your apology for later. 

He would spend his day out on the beach with his mother, away from you and the new tensions you tried to fight and you would fall back into your usual routine. Starting with a shower. You made a quick pit stop in your room to grab your towel and toiletries before moving back down the hallway to the bathroom that was wedged in between your father’s office and your bedroom. 

You piled your things on the counter around the sink and turned on the water as a warning. Anyone who needed that bathroom needed to use it now or get stuck waiting. When there were no quick footsteps along the hall, you moved to close the bathroom door, only to be met with the hollow sound of a palm meeting the surface of the door. 

Ross had snuck his way up the grand staircase and up to the bathroom without you hearing him coming, and he pushed his way into the bathroom so effortlessly it had you stepping back until you stood with your back against the bathroom counter. From there, with your jaw slacked and your hands gripping at the hem of your sweater, you watched as he shut the door carefully and engaged the lock behind him, trapping you inside the washroom with him. 

“What are you doing?” Your eyes went wide, “Dad’s office-”

“Is right on the other side of this wall,” he whispered back, knowingly, his words laced with his devilish smile. It was with that smile you knew he wasn’t there to use the washroom or to grab anything. He was there solely because that was where you were. Your father being in the next room only added to Ross’ satisfaction as he came to stand in front of you at the bathroom sink. And you could only stand there frozen, slack-jawed in shock as his hands found the smooth skin of your thighs and pushed up the skirt of your dress until his fingers found the flimsy fabric of your panties. It only took a single finger to drag them down your thighs, and once he hit your knees, Ross dropped the panties to rest around your ankles. Then his touch left your body and went to the waist of his sweatpants, tugging them down just enough for his already hard cock to spring free. 

A quivering breath coursed through you, your teeth biting down so hard on your bottom lip that it throbbed as he leaned in to whisper in your ear. 

“You going to be a good little slut for me?”

In an instant, as his breath washed over the shell of your ear and the skin of your cheek, your skin blazed hot. If it were any other man saying that to you, you might have slapped them. But you knew why Ross was saying it. You had fed the word right to him in the living room, and it was exactly what defined you as you hoisted yourself up onto the counter and felt the cold porcelain sink against the back of your thighs. 

The hot water clouded the bathroom with steam. The thick, hot air choking at your throat, leaving your breaths desperate as your hands tugged up the flimsy fabric of your sundress for him. And your skin perspired. It was a glistening shimmer of sweat that dripped down the angles of your body before he could even touch you. It left you tugging at your sweatshirt, drawing it away from the curves of your body and up over your head and bearing the marks of Ross’ mouth that mark their path down your neck and to your cleavage before disappearing beneath the fabric of your dress. 

You had almost expected Ross’ mouth to find the skin that he had claimed as his, but instead, he was leaning in, his lips finding yours to muffle the moans that were inevitably going to slip from your lips as his hands found your thighs and guided them open wide. The soft cotton of his sweatpants dragged against your inner thighs and paired with the firm grasp of his large hands around your flesh as teeth hit teeth. 

The first moan slipped up your throat and was swallowed up by his lips as a single hand left your thighs and slipped away. For a moment you didn’t know where it went, but then you felt it: the gentle stroke of the head of his cock against your core. With the careful guidance of his hand, he guided the tip of his length up and down from your core to your clit and back down again. Over and over until your core was slick with your arousal, and that same arousal was dripping down his cock. Then, you felt the pressure of his cock, the very tip of him splitting your walls and leaving you whimpering as his mouth left your lips and found your ear once more. 

“You gotta be a good girl and be nice and quiet for me,” he told you, his voice a low growl in your ear, barely heard over the drumming of the water against the bottom of the tub, “you saw how angry your dad got this morning. You don’t want to make him mad, do you?” 

You answered him with a simple shake of your head, your hair falling into your face at the force. If your father caught you, the two of you would be as good as dead. And that was the very reason Ross was in there with you. Ross wanted to fuck you out of spite for your father. It should have angered you, but it only excited you further. Especially when you knew your father was working at the desk just on the other side of the wall. 

His lips split into a smile as he muttered simple praise in your ear. His face was so close to your neck, you were left craning your neck out hoping he would kiss it, but Ross was all too caught up in your sweet cunt, your walls welcoming his cock in raw. You knew it was dumb to let him fuck you like that. Without protection. But this way, there would be nothing left for your father to find. No evidence that Ross had fucked you there in the bathroom. Nothing for your father to get mad at. 

And so you encouraged Ross, a soft, “You feel so good,” whispered in his ear as your foot ran up the back of his leg to draw him in as deep as you could take him. And that was all you allowed yourself to say. You knew that if you said anything else, moans would follow your words. You had to hold back or risk having your father overhear you through the thin bathroom wall. He might have overhead you already if it wasn’t for the downpour of hot water from the showerhead. And for that, you were thankful. Any soft sound that left your lips joined the gentle, rhythmic drum of water or muffled against Ross’ skin or mouth or hair as he left you reeling on the countertop. 

There was a certain pleasure that you felt when he fucked you like this. With nothing keeping him from you. Just flesh on flesh, two bodies both yearning, a desperate becoming one with each powerful, uneven thrust that left Ross’ hips bucking into yours and his thighs hitting the countertop. It left your legs winding around the back of your thighs, your core aching so close to your release that you didn’t know what to do with your limbs. You wanted so desperately just to coil around him. To wrap your arms and legs around him and feel the strength of his hockey-toned body and leave him to feel as your walls gripped around him. But that would be too great of a risk. 

Instead, your hands found the edge of the countertop, your knuckles paling as you gripped at it, and your legs fell away from him as your cunt throbbed with its pleasure. It left you whining, your teeth biting down so hard on your lower lip you thought it might bleed - and you only bit it harder as Ross let out a soft groan, his sweet praise in your ear as he relished in the feeling of you coming on his cock. 

Then, with a ghost of a moan, came his rushed warning, “I’m going to cum.”

His words sent your stomach into your throat and your body went cold. You didn’t exactly plan with him where he was going to cum. It left your heart pounding in your chest, almost feeling as if you were going to choke on your own tongue before he pulled away from you so quickly that there was a rush of cold air around your body. Then, with his hands stroking his own cock, Ross sent himself over the very edge of his climax and unloaded onto the angles of your pelvis and the thin fabric of your sun dress. 

You could feel the heated webs of his release as they threatened to drip down over your clit and soaked through your dress to be felt against your skin. You hated it when it got on your clothes. It was always so hard to wash out without doing a load of laundry properly and it wasn’t easy to hide from his mother. It sent a look of disdain over your features, and that wasn’t easy to hide from Ross, who stood smiling as he remained standing between your legs. 

“What?” there was a bit of a laugh in his words as he spoke, “it was that, or cum inside you…”

Just the thought sends a shiver through your body from your spine to your toes, and it didn’t go unnoticed. 

“Oh, you would like that. Wouldn’t you?”

And before you could answer, his hands were on your body again, one hand holding your thigh firm to the counter to keep you from slipping away and the other dipping between your legs. With two fingers, he found your sensitive clit and teased it slowly, gathering the cum you had yet to wipe or wash away before his fingers traveled down. Ross parted your sweet folds, dragging right down to your core before he pressed those same fingers inside, cum and all, all the while holding your wide-eyed gaze. 

And all you can do is let your mouth fall open in a ghost of a moan, your body near trembling and he let those fingers rest there buried in your heat. The mess you became in that moment left your legs trembling and Ross could only smile. 

In just under twenty-four hours, the two of you had gone from bickering by the pool to his cum inside you. You had become an absolute mess for him, and maybe he had become a mess for you, too. That, though,  he would never admit, but he would enjoy every minute of it. Luckily for the two of you, summer was just beginning and your parents had made sure they confined you both to the summer home for the duration of it. 

[cellythefloshie]

;; The First Wife   Chapter Sixteen of the Road Wife Series

Table of Contents 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 11  | 12  |  13  | 14 | 15 16

Summary: Back in Tampa for a series of home games, you struggle to find a balance between your work life and the life you had before. Featured Players: Anthony Cirelli, Ross Colton, Pat Maroon Kinks & Triggers: there is no smut in this chapter. Mentions of marking/lingering hickeys, and unprovoked - nonconsensual ass-smacking. Word Count: 9.5k+

TAGLIST: @mp0625 , @equallyshaw , @charles11700 , @swissboyhisch , @wingedwheelprxncess , @luvmmarner, @fandomrejects , @misunderstoodwerewolf , @callsign-denmark , @puckmaidens , @xcicix , @starshine-hockey-girl , @cixrosie

After a single game on the road in Dallas, the Bolts were to play a series of games at home, and for that, you couldn’t be more thankful. Your one night in Dallas had been so eventful that you needed the time to recover. And after two strong victories over the Blackhawks and a back-to-back game, the boys did too. So, you were all given the morning off. There was no morning skate to report to, and since you were home, no appointments to keep. It was a rare day for you to take the day for yourself. 

Your alarm clock didn’t go off until nine. Sleeping in just a little to make up for the late nights you had grown accustomed to. Yet, in your slumber, you dreamt of work. You dreamt of Tony. You dreamt of Ross. It left you shuddering as you swore you could feel the ghost of their touch on your body. Shaking off the feeling, you dressed in the new workout gear you had bought after you were suddenly in desperate need of a new wardrobe.

Thanks Yanni.

You pulled on a pair of sneakers, grabbed your keys, and left out the front door. It was only in the reflection of your apartment elevator that you regretted leaving in such a hurry. When you saw them, you were putting your hair up, the series of marks along your neck that Ross had left there while in Dallas. It had been five days, and while they weren’t so prominent, they still lingered. Reaching the main floor, you made a mental note to cover them with some concealer later, but first, you would finish a run. 

You hadn’t always been a runner, but with the Road Wife program taking up so much of your life, you needed a hobby you could do on your own. Something that you could use to escape and channel your frustrations when reading a book or binge-watching a TV series wasn’t enough. It gave you a chance to think through the thoughts that consumed your mind. And if your thoughts still consumed you, the run often left you too damn tired to care. It had become a habit for you to run during the team’s homesteads when time allowed. 

Your morning runs took you down by the waterfront, and past Amalie Arena, before you would cycle back towards your apartment. It was the same route you took every time. The familiarity of the route made it easy for you to dissociate from the world around you and get lost in the music in your ears or the chaotic thoughts in your mind. And at the end of your route was the coffee shop at the corner of your street and, with it, your favourite cup of coffee. 

It warmed your hands as you cradled it on your way out the door, your headphones still in and your head down. Total isolation from the people and the world around you. It was something that had become second nature to you at home in Tampa. Anything you did outside of work you did alone, and you had grown used to that - but your friends still tried to make their efforts with texts and calls that you ignored. But they didn't let you ignore them now as you passed them in the street unknowingly. 

A soft, feminine touch tugged you back from your stride. Your coffee dropped to the pavement as your hand shot up to push your headphones back to hang around your neck. You had half the mind to scream as you turned on your heels, but your throat was weak and quickly overcome with relief as your widened eyes fell on two familiar faces; Miranda and Chantelle. 

The two of them had been some of your closest friends, but seeing them only brought a moment of relief. Your heart continued to hammer in your chest, your mind almost wishing it was someone else trying to drag you off. You had been avoiding your friends since January when the condensed season had begun. When you had signed your life away and had far too many secrets to have to hide from them. But, to them, it was clear how much had changed since you started your career with the team. Especially since it had been a homestead.

You had been home long enough to attend all your appointments - your preparations for the next road trip. First, you had gotten a facial on your first day back, and it left your skin glowing. Then, your hair and nails were styled to your liking, just as they always were during a homestead. The rest of your contractual pampering would be a little harder to see for them, but it was not how they were used to seeing you. And worst of all, the marks left by Ross’ mouth were still on your skin. You just had to hope that the sway of your ponytail and the bulkiness of your headphones would cover them enough. 

“I told you it was her,” Miranda’s know-it-all attitude consumed her words as she withdrew her hand from your arm, the panic in your features softening as you felt the remnants of your coffee dripping down the front of your calf and into the soft shell of your sneakers. 

“Since when do you run?” Chantelle piped up, still not quite convinced as she stood with her arms crossed over her chest. 

“I ah-” you could feel the sweat dripping down the back of your neck, “It’s just been a month.” You wanted a way out of this conversation, quickly, desperately, especially when you felt Miranda’s judgmental - analytical stare drag up and down the length of your body from head to foot. 

“You look,” she cast a glance at Chantelle, “different.” 

“Must be all the running,” you shrugged, a small smile toying at the corner of your lips. Yeah, you thought sarcastically to yourself, your eyes almost rolling. It was the running and not the getting fucked on a regular. It wasn’t the fact that the wives and girlfriends of the Tampa Bay Lightning players had all but adopted you as their own personal Barbie to dress up and give makeovers to as they saw fit just to please their husbands. 

“Take a break from your running and we’ll get you another coffee,” Miranda insisted, and your eyes dropped to the coffee that stained the ground. You were going to regret not having it later.

“Oh no, I can’t,” you shook your head, your hand raising to your headphones, ready to place them over your ears again, “I work tonight, and Sydnee is coming.” 

“Where’s our invite?” Chantelle’s words were almost playful - almost. You knew her too well to know that she was very much serious. 

“We’ll have to arrange something,” you said, smiling.

It was a false pleasantry you gave them, as you knew all too well that you would screen any text message they sent you and would later send them a quick, sorry, work’s been busy text. And it wouldn’t be a lie. You would be busy. Too busy even for Sydnee, who was your best friend, but they wouldn’t believe you. Yet, you maintained your friendly facade and ignored the drama that would inevitably come. 

“Start a group chat. Invite Rebecca and Sydnee too. You guys can go to the game, and we can all go out for drinks after,” you said. Then, you pulled out your phone from your pocket to check the time. You looked at it for only a moment. The big digital numbers, no matter the actual time, were your freedom. “I’m going to be late. I have to go.” 

You didn’t give them a chance to say as much as a goodbye before your tired legs fell into stride. You hadn’t meant to run again after you had gotten your coffee. But with it on the ground attracting wasps, there was nothing holding you back. Tugging your headphones up over your ears, you let the music on your playlist become the soundtrack of your life as you rushed away from the coffee shop and made your trip home. 

Once you crossed the threshold of your apartment door, your routine was simple. Undress. Put the clothes in the hamper. Shower. Dry off. Dress. Blow-dry your hair. Finally, it came to your makeup. So much more makeup than you ever dreamed of having to put on. Not that you ever did your makeup too heavily for work. You had a certain look you liked to achieve, something polished and professional. But being professional meant hiding every single mark left on your body, and that took concealer, color corrector, foundation and setting powder. You kept it in an outrageous supply, so much so that even a drag queen would be jealous. Even then, you could only hope that it would last all night. 

You were patting setting powder over the angles of your neck when you heard the front door. It’s careful open and shut left air caught in your throat as you give yourself one last look over in the bathroom mirror. You had covered up the marks. Your makeup was something you had gotten much better with since the first time Ross had marked up your neck. And you were more prepared. Fully dressed, and your hair was done; You were ready for lunch. You were ready to face Sydnee. 

Pushing up from where you had propped yourself up on the bathroom sink, you took in a deep breath, as if to breathe in the confidence you needed before moving out into the living room. Sydnee had always been one to let herself in. Not that you minded, you were practically sisters after all. But it left you with a sense of panic as your eyes darted from your couch to your favorite reading chair before scanning over the kitchen for anything that might be out of place - including the sweatshirt of Tony’s you knew was somewhere hiding in your place after returning from your road trip to Dallas. You had meant to give it back, but your appointment with Ross left that sweater to travel home with you. And it thankfully was somewhere out of sight. 

If Sydnee found it, you wouldn’t know how to answer the questions it would provoke. 

And with it hidden, tucked away, and nothing else incriminating in sight, you smiled and let your eyes fall on your best friend. In contrast to how you dressed for work, Sydnee dressed for the game as any fan would be. With her mousy brown hair pulled back into a ponytail, her bangs framed her soft brown eyes. And even while pulled back, the ends of her hair kissed the tops of her shoulders with every stride, brushing over the shoulder patches of her bright blue Lightning jersey. She had paired the fan staple with a white turtle-neck sweater, black jeans, and Chelsea boots. She looked very much the part of a hockey fan, but she had been her entire life. But she hadn’t always been loyal to the Bolts. Born in Chicago, having moved to Tampa for university, she was a Blackhawks fan first. And in ways she still was as she had yet to fully commit to the Bolts as the nameplate on the back of her jersey was still blank. She only really wore it for you. 

“We really need to get a name stitched onto the back of that jersey,” you greeted her with a grin, your arms crossing over your chest as you stood in the doorway. You tilted your head to the side, contemplating just which one player you thought she would like the best. “Point, maybe? I think you’d like him.”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged, saying your name as she put her bag down on your armchair. “You know I’m loyal to my boys.”

You watched as she turned in place. Your lips parted to challenge her with the talent the Bolts had developed over the years, only for words to fail leaving your lips. In her arms, Sydnee held a beautiful bouquet. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” you said, your words laced with your smile as you reached out to accept the bouquet with both hands.

“Good,” Sydnee grinned, “because I didn’t. They aren’t from me. They were outside the door when I walked up.” 

“Is there a card?” You asked with a raised brow. You knew full well that she would have been nosy enough to look. Yet, she put on the act of looking for the card, anyway. 

“Nothing looks like you have a secret admirer,” she grinned as she handed them off to you, “which seems odd because if you have enough time for boys, you should have enough time for me.” 

“Believe me, I don’t have time for boys,” you sighed, reaching out to take them from her hold. The cellophane crinkled under the pressure of your touch as you looked at an empty vase on your kitchen counter. Before the road trip, a bouquet of colorful tulips brightened up your kitchen. And the homestead before that, daisies. Now, the sunflowers would take their place. But you never knew who had sent them. There was never a card. 

“Maybe they delivered it to the wrong address,” you thought out loud and moved into the kitchen. To the vase that you hoped Sydnee hadn’t noticed was waiting for the fresh bouquet. And if she did, you didn’t give her time to say anything, as you were quick to change the subject. “So, game plan. Late lunch here, at the arena before four. You'll shadow me a bit until the fills up and then you will go off and enjoy the game. How’s that sound?”

Sydnee had no complaints. Together, you ate the lunch you had prepared while the two of you caught up on the simplicities of life. You guided the conversation when you had to, giving what little you could offer about the big changes in your life since starting your new job with the Lightning organization. You talked about your travel, and the beautiful cities you had gotten to experience because of them, but you didn’t speak of the players or go into any detail about what you actually did for them. When that conversation started, you deflected to what was going on here in your absence. Which was easy to do when you felt so far removed from your old life that you didn’t know what was going on in your own circle anymore. You asked about her studies as she presumed animal sciences at the university, and you asked about her love life which you had to pretend was much more exciting than your own. Then, when lunch was done and cleaned up after and you were getting into your car to drive down to the arena, the conversation fell on petty gossip to kill the time. 

You were thankful for that. 

It kept your body calm and thoughts distracted from any potential anxiety as you rolled onto the lot and pulled on your lanyard that identified you as staff. Then, you reached into the glove box, grabbed Sydnee’s pass that would allow her to be glued at your hip until game time, and handed it off to her. 

“You ready to work?” you asked her, your voice playful to hide your own nerves. 

“I’m ready to see what keeps you so busy,” Sydnee’s grin was wide as she hung the lanyard around her neck and stepped out of the car. 

The moment your heels hit the pavement and you grabbed your work bag from the bag seat you were straight to work. Sydnee became your shadow as you fell into your routine that started with setting up at the entrance and waiting for the players to arrive. They began to trickle in at first, dressed in their game day best, and offering a casual wave as they passed but only after you had taken their picture. A select few would end up on one of the many social media pages. And every moment of it left Sydnee starstruck as she stood beside you with her jaw noticeably slacked. 

One by one the entire roaster crossed your path. From Stamkos and Hedman to Sergachev and Kucherov, they all offered a little glimmer into their pregame personalities as well. So it wasn’t a surprise to you when you were met by Andrei’s focus that was so easily mistaken by anyone else as coldness, or Killorn’s goofier-than-normal entrance when he noticed he had a bit more of an audience. What did surprise you, however, was that Cirelli and Colton arrived together. 

The sight of them walking side by side, both wearing varying shades of blue, left your head cocked to the side and a single eyebrow raised.  You knew better than anyone the complexity of their relationship. Just weeks ago, Tony started a fight with Ross because of you. Back in Dallas, they had practically shared you. Now, they carpooled? It left you perplexed as you snapped their picture, and met their eyes as they passed. 

Cirelli offered you a friendly hello, mindful of your friend, who stood beside you in awe. And Ross pulled the sunglasses from his face and offered a wink and a nod, offering a silent greeting as he passed. 

The two of them left a knot knotted in your stomach as you shoved your camera into your bag. They were the last to arrive, and that meant you needed to be on the move to prepare for warmups. But first, you would need to get Sydnee to her seat. 

“Alright, we’re done here,” you assured her with a smile, your lips parting to offer what would happen next. But the excitement of what she had just experienced had Sydnee cut in. 

“I didn’t realize you worked so closely with the players.” Her words were those of awe. 

“And that’s only a fraction of it all,” you smiled. She would never truly know the extent of the work you did. She would never know at what level you knew every single player of the Tampa Bay Lightning. “Let me set you up in your seat, make sure you have a drink in your hand all night, and then I’m going to have to get back to work.”

The busy buzz of the surrounding arena was consuming as you took Sydnee to her seats in the Chase Club. You left her there with the promise of meeting back at your car after the game. Then, you fell back into your usual routine. 

You moved through Amalie with ease, your head down and eyes on your screen as you monitored the social media channels and decided just which photos you posted on each platform. And just when someone thought you were in the way, you weren’t as you moved to the side or out of the way without even having to look up or be told to. You knew every shortcut, every detour. Where you were allowed to be and when you had to be there. It was rare that you had a moment to yourself during the game, but tonight you did. 

You found yourself in the corridors between the locker rooms with a little extra time between warmups and game time, so you pulled out your laptop and set up on the table. Your back was to the hallway as you worked, your headphones in as focused on the bright glow of the screen. You paid no mind to the people behind you as they passed, knowing you wouldn’t be in the way of their work as you did your own. And you were extra cautious as you heard the clamour of players behind you. The last thing you wanted was to be in their way and get caught by a stick or stepped on with the full weight of a hockey player on a skate blade. 

Standing with your hips pressed to the edge of the table, as out of the way as you could be, but it wasn’t enough. Somehow, you were still in someone’s way - or rather caught someone’s eye as you stood there dressed in your pencil shirt and tucked-in white blouse. So much so that they went out of the way to touch you - to smack your ass with the firm impact of your hand unleashing a shrill yelp from the depths of your throat and leaving the sting of their touch behind. 

Your hands shot out to brace yourself against the table, your head hanging low on your shoulders to hide the redness of embarrassment that overtook your features behind a curtain of hair. Whoever had done that should have known better. Back home in Tampa, you were off-limits. And the only two brave enough to challenge that? Ross and Tony. But not even they would have put our job in jeopardy like that. 

Turning in place, you had intended to come face to face with the player who had acted so carelessly, so stupidly. You had intended to give them a piece of your mind. But the Bolts’ electric blue jersey did not meet your gaze. No, all you saw was the Florida Panthers’ white and red away jersey. And all you heard was laughter. 

It sent your stomach sinking, and your lips fell into a firm line as you scowled. They must have recognized you from your many trips down to Sunrise, Florida, and someone had to have known that you did a lot more than work for their media team. It wasn’t a mystery that was hard to solve. Not once you had found the courage to look up and meet the playful gaze of ex-lightning player Carter Verhaeghe. 

He had just won the cup with the team last year and was an off-season acquisition by the Panthers. Carter would have known the first wife. He would be very familiar with the Road Wife program. And with the connections, and the friends, he still had on the Tampa Bay roster, it wouldn’t surprise you if he knew exactly who you were and what your role was with the team. 

You swallowed hard as you watched as Carter winked at you, his hand free of his glove and shaking off the sting of the impact against your ass. All too guilty for him to even try to deny, and it sent the players in his company, Jonathan Huberdeau and McKenzie Weager, into laughter. 

They were all too comfortable in your arena. Too confident. And you wanted to say something, you really did. But you didn’t have to. 

“Come on, man. Show a little respect, my girl’s trying to work here,” hearing the all too familiar voice had you turning around, your jaw slacked as your eyes fell on Ross. 

You didn’t know why he had been there, dressed fully in his equipment and towering over you as he stood taller on his skates. Something had sent him out into the hallway, catching the scene as it had unfolded in front of him - and he didn’t like it. It was clear from the scowl that consumed his features, and the strength that was laced into his words. If you hadn’t known better, you would have thought Ross was going to hit Carter - but they were friends once, having played for Syracuse together in the AHL. They were going to be civil, right?

Your stomach was up in your throat as Carter turned around, stopping at the center of the hallways to laugh back in your direction. “She’s your girl, huh, Colton?”

Ross’s jaw tensed as he came to stand beside you, his hand stroking down the breadth of your back. His touch had you tensing in return. Your thighs pressed firm together, and you turned your head to look up at him so quickly it sent your hair cascading down your back - giving Carter the very view Ross wanted him to see. As you took in your deep nervous breath, the collar of your shirt shifted and the marks he had left, that your shirt had covered so well you hadn’t thought to conceal them, became clear enough for the visiting players to see. 

Then Ross spoke again, his words carrying that same confidence as before. “That’s right.”

“Well, when we get done with this game tonight,” Carter had a hint of laughter in his voice, one that was shared with Huberdeau and Weeger who lingered as his back, “send your girl over to the hotel for a little overtime.”

Carter’s words hung in the air for a moment, the weight of them heavy on your chest as the symphony of laughs from the Florida Panthers players faded away. They disappeared down the corridor, wandering off to their visitor’s locker room, leaving you and Ross alone in the hallway. 

A careful step to the side and you were retreating to your work. You kept your head down to hide the embarrassment that you had yet to rid from your face - to hide the tears that burned in your eyes and threatened to spill. 

It wasn’t how you carried yourself at work. You had always done your best to carry yourself with confidence, professionalism and a smile, and Ross noticed. 

“Hey,” he said. 

It was just enough to catch your attention as he reached out to place a hand on your shoulder. His gentle touch guided you around the table and into the doorway of one of the equipment rooms during a moment of calm between warmups and game time. There he reached up, taking your chin between his finger and thumb and guided your gaze up. 

Ross’ jaw was still tense, but his eyes had softened for you. “You alright?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” you assured him, your words clipped and uneven. 

Your ass still stung from the impact of the unexpected slap, but that you could live with. It was what Carter said that left you feeling dirty. Disgusted. You wanted nothing but to fade away, to call it a night and just go home - but you couldn’t shy away from your responsibilities. You couldn’t shy away from the job they originally hired you to do because you had put yourself in the position for something like this to happen. 

As long as you held the mantle as the team’s wife, being sexualized was your reality. And it would not just be by the team you worked for, but by any team who knew you existed. It had happened when Seguin had cornered you in the press-box, and again now with Carter. You didn’t like it, but it came with the job. You would just have to deal with it. 

“Don’t lie to me,” he told you, punctuating his words with your name. “I’ll make this all up to you, okay?”

“Ross,” you said his name as your shoulders rocked with a heavy sigh, “this wasn’t your fault.”

“I know,” Ross sighed, his thumb leaving your chin to stroke over the soft lobe of your lower lip. 

You took in a sharp inhale.

“But Carter, he and I, we’re friends,” he sighed, his gaze dropping for a moment as his head shook, “he’s a good guy, really. I know it’s hard to believe, but he’s just trying to get under our skin. I’m not trying to make excuses for him, but if I can try to make up for what he did because of us, I’m going to.”

You cocked your head, your lips moving against the pad of his thumb as you spoke. “You want to make it up to me?”

“I will make it up to you,” his words were a promise. 

“Then go win this game for me.” Your words had once again found a firm confidence as your stare had held Ross’ gaze. 

He was smiling now. 

You could see it without having to look at his bright blue eyes. His thumb stroked over your lip, his hand stroking over the angle of your jawline. For a moment, Ross’ careful touch left you thinking he might kiss you there in the doorway. And a part of you wanted him to, but he only cradled your face in his hands, his fingers so close to tangling in your hair, as he made his promise; “I’m going to do my goddamn best to get that done for you, sweetheart.” 

The corridor became flooded with blue as the team left the locker room in full gear. They were loud as they hyped themselves up for the game. The chaos had Ross giving you an apologetic look, his head cocking to the side, giving you a silent apology before you gave him a playful shove to go join the rest of his team. His hands slipped away from you like a ribbon, his own holler piercing the air as he fell into line. It was game time. 

Gathering your things into your bag, you carried it with you through the maze that was Amalie before coming to rest on your stool along the edge of the rink. You sat perched there with your camera in your lap and your phone ready to tweet out every development in the game. And while Sydnee was in sight, a drink in one hand as she waved to you in great excitement with the other, not even the presence of your best friend could rid you of the nerves that consumed you. This game meant more to you now than it should. The rivalry between the Lightning and the Panthers was one of the greatest in the league, but tonight the game surpassed the Battle of Florida. A loss for Florida would be a personal victory. One that you hoped would have Carter regretting how he treated you and would have him second-guessing his choice if he even thought about trying it again. 

But beating the Panthers was never an easy feat. Not even while at Amalie. Every game was hard fought, right down to the last seconds, and this game wouldn’t be an exception. At only three minutes and twenty-eight seconds into the first period, Carter Verhaeghe would open the scoring. It was his twelfth of the season and assisted by their Captain Alexander Barkov. The goal had sent the crowd of 3,800 to silence. But that only made Carter’s celebration easier to hear as he jumped into the boards right in front of you. He met your eyes, his smile wide as he celebrated with his linemates Barkov and Marchment and defencemen, Weegar and Ekblad. 

Their celebration left you shifting uncomfortably in your seat as you tweeted out the game update. And at centre ice, the puck dropped and play continued. While you felt on the verge of vomiting, you found a semblance of peace less than forty seconds of play later when Yanni Gourde slipped the puck past Bobrovsky with assists from Goodrow and Coleman.

The surrounding cheers made it hard for you to keep things professional. You wanted to hop up from your seat and cheer along with the crowd. Instead, you snapped your pictures and picked out for favorite for the feed as you announced the game-tying goal. The first period would end in that stalemate after the Lightning would kill off a cross-checking penalty taken by Barclay Goodrow against Aaron Ekblad. And while it was the first penalty of the game, it would not be the last as eight minutes later Hornqvist went to the box for his slashing Hedman. No one would be successful in their power play. 

Through the second period, it would be a back-and-forth game. Which was not limited to the play on the ice, but included the frequent trips to the penalty box. Ekblad would take a penalty for slashing against Gourde, Lomberg for hooking against Rutta, and Hedman would take a penalty for holding Alex Wennberg. Each power play unit would kill the penalty before another puck would reach the back of the net. 

It would come after a strong break into the zone by Cernak. With great patience, he had tried to get the puck to Point, only for it to deflect off Weegar. But it had put it in the perfect position for Killorn to sink it into the back of the net. 

But the 2-1 goal lead over the Panthers would be short-lived. It was with Coleman sitting in the penalty box for tripping Keith Yandle, that Forsling, with assists from Wennberg and Vatrano, would tie the game 2-2. 

They would start the third period the same way, tied and so evenly matched it made your stomach sick. You desperately wanted the lead. For the boys to score so many goals, Florida wouldn’t have the chance of a comeback. And it didn’t seem like it was too much to ask at the five-minute mark when the fourth line took to the ice. 

Colton, Joseph and Maroon were an exciting combination and the go-to bottom line for Jon Cooper. Maroon, with his strength and size, contrasted the speed that Colton and Joseph had on the ice. And while many didn’t think it was a combination that would work, you watched it succeed right in front of you. Pat dumped the puck in deep with Mathieu and Ross skating in after it. Mathieu would get stuck in the corner, but Ross would come to recover the puck behind the net. His wrap-around attempt left you holding your breath, the puck deflecting off the goaltender’s pads before meeting Mathieu’s stick and the back of the net. 

The Lightning would hold a 3-2 lead in the third until Barclay Goodrow would find himself in the box for high-sticking Mason Marchment. A goal from Hornqvist would shorten his time in the box, bringing the game to yet another tie. 3-3. 

Your stomach could only sink further as tensions continued to rise between the players, plays became careless, and penalties continued to be called. First came a high-sticking call against Palat. Then, the same against Panther’s defenceman Aaron Ekblad as he caught Stamkos up high. And while the Bolts had killed off their penalty, the Panthers would not do the same. 

Johnson, with some help from Gourde and Cirelli, would give the Lightning a 4-3 lead with 11 minutes remaining in the period. 

Tension only rose further in those dying minutes. A series of penalties began at 11:29 as Keith Yandle got a little rough with Ross, who did nothing to retaliate but give him one of his cheeky grins and a bit of a laugh, knowing it would get under his skin more than throwing a hit. 

Yandle had only been out of the box 10 seconds when the next set of penalties was called. The officials awarded two to Weeger for slashing and roughing Palat. And Palat would receive a roughing penalty of his own, along with a misconduct that would have him sitting out the rest of the game. 

The penalties didn’t stop there. One last penalty came with a mere 5 minutes remaining in the game. The fourth line was on to defend, to protect the lead they had and kill time faced off against the Panthers' second line: Huberdeau, Bennett and Duclair. You didn’t know what triggered it, if someone had said something in the face-off circle or if Ross was just feeling extra feisty, but he spent 2 minutes in the penalty box for roughing against Jonathan Huberdeau. 

Every second he spent in the box had you watching the clock more than you were watching the game. But the penalty kill unit did their job and forced the Panthers to pull Bobrovsky. In those dying seconds, Brayden would secure the victory with one last goal that would end the game 5-3. 

The victory left you with a bit of a hop in your step as you fell into your post-game routine of preparing for interviews. You couldn’t wait until things could go back to normal when the reporters could all return to the locker room for the post-game. But until then, you set up the table and the computer that each reporter would check in from one place or the other. Then you had to retrieve each player. First on your list was the second star of the game, Killorn. 

Leaving the room they had set aside for interviews, you made the short walk to the locker room that was full of life after the win. The boys sat half-dressed, some still in gear, some already dressed in their suits for the drive home. Some showered, some not, and all in one conversation or another, but not a single one of them, was Alex Killorn. 

“Cap,” you spoke, your voice raised slightly to be heard over the locker room noise. 

Stamkos stood in front of his stall, a white towel fastened around his waist while he ran another over his wet blonde hair. When he heard you, he shot you a crooked smirk, his head tilting in a casual nod as he acknowledged you. 

“Killer in the showers?”

“Wasn’t in there when I was on my way out,” he said, “check with Jason, I think he was having some issues with his blades-” 

You were on the move before Stamkos could finish his sentence. Time was of the essence, and the quicker you got these interviews done, the sooner you could meet up with Sydnee and go home. Your heels clicked against the floor as you moved through the corridors. They were much more calm now that the game was over, making it much easier to go from point A to point B. But your efficiency didn’t make it any easier to find Alex. He wasn’t in the equipment room, and it left your brows knitting as you offered a soft apology to Jason on your way out. 

“Alright Alex, where are you?” you sighed, tapping your foot as you looked up and down the corridor, “medical, maybe?” you spoke to yourself as you slipped down the hall. 

When you arrived, the lights were on, but the staff was nowhere to be seen. Which meant the same for Alex. Letting out a frustrated huff, you were ready to give up. To move on to the next name on your list and come back to Alex later, but then you saw a pair of shadows move behind the cover of one curtain that gave the players and medical staff privacy on a busy night. 

“So this is where you have been hiding from me,” you grinned, “media needs you when you’ve wrapped up in here, Alex.”

You received no response. Not from Alex, and not from a trainer or doctor. Silence hung in the air and the shadows stilled, as if to hope you would move along without a response. You stood there, waiting for some kind of acknowledgement that never came, and it didn’t sit right with you. Something was off. 

“Alex?” you said his name slowly as you stepped forward, your hand drawing back the curtain carefully. 

The rings of the curtain rattled along their support, sending your heart pounding in your chest as the figures became more than shadows in front of your eyes. On the table wasn’t Alex, but another familiar face. Pat sat with his wet hair slicked back, his white dress shirt undone and hanging off his slouched shoulders. But it wasn’t because he was being examined. They would have completed that as soon as he had come off the ice, and you would have remembered him being hurt out on the ice. And the person who stood between his legs, her hands resting on the tops of his strong thighs, was not one of the staff. No, you had never seen her before. 

You would have remembered someone like her. She stood no taller than 5 foot 5, even while wearing the heels she wore that towered higher than anything you would have thought practical to wear. And she was pretty. Memorably so with her long brunette hair that hung down her back in thick waves save for her face-framing bangs that left her green eyes near electric as they met your dear-in-the-headlights stare. 

They hadn’t wanted to be found, the much was clear. But that fact alone didn’t send the petite woman retreating. No, she stayed there right between Pat’s thighs as if she had been there countless times before. And if that wasn’t hinted enough to know just exactly who she was, Pat saying her name left your blood running cold. “Ella, I think it’s time for you to go.” Your chest felt tight as you struggled to take a single breath, and the world around you suddenly felt distant. This was their first wife? The woman you knew so little and yet so much about. She had dishonoured the team, and yet, here she was. You scowled. The audacity she had - and he! What was Pat thinking? The possibilities left your head spinning. It left you uneasy on your feet as you shuffled back, retreating slowly, cautiously as if she were a panther ready to pounce as you stuttered out, “Have you seen Killorn?” 

“He’s not in here,” Ella answered for Pat, her voice sweet, but it hit your ears like nails on a chalkboard. 

Your eyes flicked over to Ella, narrowing more than you intended, and you offered her nothing more than that. Not a thank you. Not a question as to what she was doing there. Just a glare. Then, you were stepping out the door. 

Behind you, you heard a clamour, but you didn’t look back. Not even as Pat called out your name, as he trailed after you. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of some half-assed explanation. You had a pretty good idea of what was happening there before you interrupted them. Nothing Pat said was going to change your mind. Yet he still called after you as you moved through the corridor, your head down to hide the shock that still consumed your face. 

The shock that was knocked straight off your features when you collided with the thick body of another. Looking up, relief consumed you at the sight of Alex. 

“You were looking for me?” He smiled down at you as his hands reached out to steady you in place. 

“Yeah,” you breathed out, your voice unsteady, “media’s waiting on you.”

Nodding towards the makeshift media room, you managed a smile. One that you would wear throughout the interviews that followed, and that hid the uneasiness in your stomach. No matter what you did, you couldn’t rid yourself of it. Yet, you made it through to the end of the night, but there was one thing standing in the way of you getting to go home in peace. 

Pat lingered long after players started going home. You didn’t have to see him to know it. It was something you could feel. His eyes were on your back as he waited for the opportune moment to catch you alone. But you never gave it to him. You walked to and from the interviews with each player on your list. And even as your shift was ending, and all you had to do was walk to your car, you wouldn’t make it alone. 

“Tony, hey!” You smiled as you sought out Tony, one of the last lingering players in the locker room, “you on your way out?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, pushing his dark, wet curls out of his face as he stood up from his seat. 

“Walk me to my car?” 

You didn’t need to ask him twice. Tony would have done anything you asked him to at that moment and you would be forever grateful for that. 

Gathering your bag, you held it close as the two of you walked past Pat with nothing more than a quick “Have a good night” between teammates. Whatever it was Pat wanted to say, he couldn’t say it in front of his teammates. And while you didn’t hear it tonight, the explanation you didn’t want to hear would only come in time. 

Walking out the doors of Amalie and into the night air should have brought you relief. The chilly night air, and the touch of Tony’s large, warm hand against your back, should have been enough to bring you back to your usual calm composure. But the bright taillights of the Panther’s bus still flooded the parking lot with its glow as their trainers loaded the bus with gear. Their players loitered in the night, some on the bus, others lingering by the door. With them, waited a figure you wouldn’t forget. 

Ella. 

You almost groaned at the sight of her. 

She worked for the Florida Panthers, that much was clear. At what capacity? You just happened to be an expert in the matter. To everyone else, she would look like a member of their media team. But Ella was just like you. And while she had just a little more experience, she wasn’t as good at hiding it. Her flirtations were obvious and obnoxious even as she stood in the parking lot of Amalie. She wanted you to see her, for the players to see her smiling and happy. She wanted to draw in anyone’s attention, and while you were doing your best not to stare, you were, and she saw it. 

Smiling widely, she excused herself from her team and sauntered across the parking lot to you. 

For a moment, you considered dropping your gaze and making a run for your car. But Tony’s touch still lingered on your back, and she was right in your path. Her confidence let you in a panic, your feet becoming still and your hand dropping from your purse to clutch at Tony’s wrist at your side. Silently begging him not to leave you alone with her. 

“You must be the new me,” Ella spoke, her tone all too friendly, “about earlier-”

“I don’t want to hear it,” you were quick to silence her. You didn’t care about what she had to say. Even if a part of you was curious as to why she was with Pat after the game, and the vision of them was all too clear in your mind. You weren’t going to let her offer any excuses for sneaking around with your team. The team that had once been hers. 

“I know what you did while you were here. I know why you weren’t asked back this year.” You said, your hand clutched at Tony a little tighter. 

“Do you?” her manicured brow quirked up on her forehead, a sense of amusement in her tone. 

“Seguin-” 

She didn’t let you get out a full sentence before she cut you off with laughter. It drew the attention of the Florida players who lingered by the door of the bus. It had Ross who lingered in the parking lot by Tony’s car, taking a step forward as if he were prepared to intervene. And it even had Sydnee staring from where she stood, leaning back against the trunk of your car, as she waited for you. 

They stared at her, and in turn, they stared at you, but Ella’s eyes had flicked over to Tony, who still stood right by your side. His face hardened as he bit his own tongue to keep himself from saying a single word. At the sight of him, her low chuckle persisted, her head shaking slowly as her eyes found yours once more. 

“You think you’re better than me,” she spoke each word with a coy smile on her lips, “but we’re more alike than you realize. You’ll see that soon enough.” 

Her words sent your stomach sinking as she stepped back and moved for the bus that would take the Panthers to the airport or to the hotel. Where it went, you didn’t know. You didn’t care. Your mind was too consumed by what Ella had said to even consider it. 

You refused to think you were anything like her. That you would do anything like she had done. The accusation alone left your skin hot and your stomach churning on the verge of illness. You needed to get home. 

Pulling away from Tony’s side, you let your eyes drop to the ground as you fumbled with your bag. “Thank you for walking me out to my car,” you offered him the sincerest thank you that you could muster. But it didn’t hide how your voice broke, or the stiffness in your stride as you left him to stand in the low and approached Sydnee, who waited for you. 

“What was that all about?” Sydnee greeted you from where she stood leaning up against the back of your car. “It’s nothing,” the lie tasted sour in your mouth as you moved to the driver’s side of the car. You could only hope with the entire car between you she couldn’t see how your mind struggled to throw some bullshit answer together. “Rivalries run deep, and she’s me. I mean, she does what I do.” 

You were rambling. Struggling to find just the right words to say and string them together, all while on the verge of throwing up.  

The night couldn’t have been more unlike what you had planned for Sydnee. But, of course, the Florida Panthers and their own Road Wife had to complicate things. They left you with too many questions and too many secrets as you had to tip-toe through your conversations with Sydnee or risk letting something slip. Something that could put your entire career and reputation in jeopardy. 

You fumbled with your keys in your purse, the clamour of them hitting one thing and then the next heard in the night air as you drew them out. But then you fumbled with them, trying to find your car key only for them to end up slipping to the ground in the sharp sound of metal hitting metal hitting concrete. 

Lips parted in a silent sigh of frustration. You wanted to scream, to groan, to do anything to express the toll the night took on you. But you couldn’t. You had to remain calm. Cool. Collected. You couldn’t let on to Sydnee that there was more going on here than what she believed there to be. So you bit your lip and fought back your tears as you knelt down to the ground and retrieved your keys. 

It was only then you realized that the car parked beside you had yet to leave and left you glancing back over your shoulder at the players that remained.

It felt as if it were February again. The sight of Ross standing beside the car with the collar of his dress shirt left open and his hands shoved in his tight pant pockets. But it wasn’t Mathieu who stood with him. This time, Tony, with his mess of dark curls and concerned stare, lingered on you as he tossed his suit jacket into the back seat. 

The two of them could have just gotten in the car and left. You would have almost preferred it if they did, but they weren’t leaving until both you and the Panther’s bus had cleared the lot. 

You offered them both a reassuring smile, and Tony matched it with his own. But Ross, he was much shameless even while in the company of your friend. 

“You alright, sweetheart?” Hearing his words had you ready to crumble. You craved to run to him, to fall so effortlessly into his arms and be held by him. But there was no loss of your composure with your best friend ignoring her place in the passenger seat. Instead, she had draped herself over the door, her smile playful as her brow raised. She was all too interested in your encounter to concede. 

“Yeah, I’m good,” you assured Ross.

Giving him and Tony one last look, you leaned down to get in the car, but you froze when your friend still refused to get into the car. Instead, she spoke loud enough for both the boys to hear, “Oh, so that’s why you wouldn’t tell me who sent you the flowers.”

“You sent her flowers?” Tony started, the boys falling into a soft symphony of confusion as you stood still, your back to them as your face fell. 

“No, that wasn’t me,” was Ross’ rushed response, and with it you could feel both of their eyes on your back. 

If one of them hadn’t sent you the flowers, then who had? Your fingers curled around the door of your car, the cool alloy grounding you as you gave them both one last perplexed look. Almost as if to say: Are you sure it wasn’t one of you? Then you spoke, “Thanks for waiting on me, guys. Have a good night.” 

“Good night, sweetheart,” Ross’ words were the last you heard, his charming sweetheart punctuated by the closing of your door. 

You had to bite your lip to hide the smile that threatened to blossom over your features. Taking the steering wheel in your hands, you leaned forward to rest your forehead against them. That had to be enough to hide it.

Of course. You had to run into the ex-road wife and Ross had to be so endearing while Sydnee was there. And she wasn’t going to let you brush it off like nothing had happened. “Sweetheart, huh?”

Biting your lip, you sat up in your seat, turning as you reached back for your seatbelt to hide your smile. But there was no hiding it from Sydnee as you looked at her, almost laughing as you answered her. “Yeah, well, Colton is a bit of a flirt.”

“And does it work?”

“Does what work?” you arched a brow up at her as you started up the ignition and began the drive home through the congested, post-game traffic. 

“The flirting.”

You went silent. Your teeth biting your lip a little harder. The flirting always worked, but you couldn’t tell her that. “Nope,” Your lie was feeble as your foot eased on the brake at a red light. The red glow illuminated the inside of the car and your features as you had hoped the darkness between streetlights would hide your telltale signs of lying to her. 

“So he’s not the one who gave you all those hickeys on your neck?”

Sydnee was smiling. You didn’t need to look at her to know that. Then you felt her finger on the collar of your blouse, tugging it away from your neck. Your eyes flashed up to your rearview mirror. Adjusting it casually, you gave yourself a view of your neck where the friction of the blouse against your skin had rubbed the makeup away. It left the marks Ross had left on your skin all too clear. 

You could have told her it wasn’t Ross. That it was literally anyone else, but she had seen the flirting that he was never shy about, no matter where you were or who was there with you. Telling her the truth would be too easy, and ease your mind of the many secrets you were forced to carry with you because of your contract - but Ross, he didn’t have a contract. There was nothing there for you to breach.

“Okay,” you sighed, “maybe it works sometimes.” 

“I knew it!” You could hear her giddy excitement in her shriek. “No wonder the two of you were trying to play it so coy about the flowers.”

You almost laughed. If there was one thing Ross wasn’t, it was coy - and you believed him when he said he hadn’t been the one to send you the flowers. That was all still a mystery to you, but for convenience's sake, Sydnee just needed to believe he was the one sending them to you. 

“It’s not exactly something we can advertise,” you told her slowly, choosing your words carefully. “Besides, it’s not serious.” 

And with your contracts in place, any relationship you had with anyone could never be. It would just be too complicated - as if trying to conceal it all from your best friend wasn’t bad enough you had resorted to telling her fractions of the truth just so she wouldn’t catch you in a lie. Sighing, you would indulge her in the little things that came with Ross’ affection. You knew she wouldn’t tell anyone. And at the end of the night, there would be nothing more for her to discover or tell. Spending the day with her had been a harsh reminder of the severity of your situation. A reminder of just how hard it was to find a work-life balance when you were the Tampa Bay Lightning’s road wife. 

[cellythefloshie]

;; Coffee, Tea, or Me? Inspired by the Twitter Post

Summary: As barista at Ross Colton's favourite Starbucks the two of you have formed a rather flirtatious relationship that hasn't gone any further than banter and serving drinks - but Ross finds that he needs to make things right after the social media team leaks his coffee order but associates it with the NHL's favourite coffee partner Dunkin Donuts. Word Count: 976

General Taglist: @starshine-hockey-girl @wingedwheelprxncess

In Tampa, Ross had more than enough choices of which Starbucks he could stop at on the way to the arena or the airport, and others closer to home when it came to his downtime. Some were much more convenient than others and fell on his direct route, but no matter his destination he was always making the time to make a stop at a certain location. The Starbucks you worked at. 

Ross found himself there almost daily when they were back in Tampa for a homestead, his order always the same, and his encounters with you just as sought after as the cold brew. The first time you had served him had been such a pleasant experience he had kept coming back - that was what he told you at least. It also helped that he found both your features and personality very attractive. With time and familiarity, you were on a first-name basis, and flirtations were blatant but never went beyond words. Words that he found himself pondering as he walked into the coffee shop for the first time since his 4-game road stint that included games in Montreal, Ottawa, Boston and Carolina. His lips split into a grin at just the sight of you, but before he could let the perfectly crafted line fall from his lips, you were leaning up against the counter with a smile of your own. 

“You cheating on me?” If it had been anyone else making such an accusation his blood might have run cold, but your words were playful and so was your smile. 

“On you? Never.” Ross countered as he came up to the counter in the coffee shop and propped himself up on the counter across from you. Thankfully it was a slow day and there was no line to hold up. 

“Oh really?” you challenged him, your brow raising playfully as you reached your hand down into your apron for your phone. It had only taken you a moment to pull up the picture and offer your phone out to him - and it coaxed a laugh up his throat in an instant. 

The picture had been taken from the Tampa Bay Lightning's social media pages, a large Dunkin Donuts iced coffee cup edited to display his favourite coffee order, complete with one of his favourite goal celebrations in the top corner. 

“Oh sweetheart, it’s not what it looks like,” his words were playfully pleading as a hand reached up and rested over his heart, “you know your coffee is the only one for me.”

You gave him a playful scoff that had him reaching over the counter to return your phone and as he returned it to you the touch of his fingers lingered against your own. “Forgive me, please, I’ll never drink another sip of another coffee-”

“So you did cheat on me!” you were grinning wider now as you threw your head back with a laugh. It had the other baristas starring, but he didn’t mind and neither did you. After his almost daily appearances and the mutual flirtations, they had more than gotten used to your antics. “I don’t know Ross, I don’t think I can trust you with my delicious cold brew.”

“I’ll do anything for that cup of coffee,” his words were desperate as his bright blue eyes held your gaze. 

“Anything?”

“Anything you want, sweetheart,” he proclaimed as you slowly retracted your hand from his hold and slipped your phone back into your apron. 

“I’m going to need to sleep on it, but for now I think I can try to put this behind us just this once - but if I see you flirting with Dunkin again we’re through. My heart’s a fragile thing Ross, can’t have you running around breaking it.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Ross smirked as he remained leaning up against the counter. From there he watched you prepare the same drink he had ordered from you since the first time he had set foot in Tampa. It was there while he was propped up against the counter he noticed that you had changed the chalkboard that often featured location-specific specials and his smile only grew as it read The Colton in an elegant cursive font. Below it was the list of what he liked to add to his cold brew: almond milk and it was topped with caramel. 

“Alright, Ross, we got The Colton for you,” you smile across the counter at him as you noticed his eyes lingering on the sign. 

“You remembered the caramel swirl?” he cocked his head to the side playfully. 

“Have I ever forgotten?” you tilted your head to match the tilt of his own head as you leaned up against the counter again. From there you tapped his order lazily into the register. 

“No, never,” he nodded and placed cash down on the counter with a generous tip. 

“Ross I can’t accept this-”

“Just one of the ways I will make it up to you,” he winked before he wrapped his hand around his cup and raised it in a toast of farewell to your coworkers who continued to gawk, “see you, tomorrow ladies.”

The door chimed as it opened and closed behind him, leaving you standing alone in the coffee shop with your coworkers. They stood, arms crossed over their chest and smile on their lips. “The two of you just need to fuck already,” one quipped, “I don’t think I can take another day of that banter.”

You squealed out her name, your cheeks red hot as your eyes went wide. “It’s not like that-”

“Sure it isn’t,” her eyes rolled, “when he comes in tomorrow to make it up to you, and he asked what that anything you want is, you better say a date or else I’m saying it for you!”

[cellythefloshie]

How did you grow your account and get so many followers and any tips for fics?

When I started this blog, I didn't go into it thinking I would get the following I have. I had just happened to stumble on another hockey fanfic blog and was like hey, I already write that on AO3, I should post it on here too. Growing a following was never my main focus, and getting the followers I have didn't happen quickly. It took a month to hit my first 50 followers. And I didn't hit 100 until September or October of that year (that's 5-6 months after I started this blog). It can take months to hit milestones, but i never really go out of my way to grow my audience. I am much more interested in having and maintaining a community. With that said, these would be my tips for growing and maintaining a community people want to be apart of:

Be a positive presence on the dashboard and with other blogs in the communities you want to be apart of. Like, reblog and comment on posts. Send in asks, etc.

Become active in community events - many blogs host fix exchanges that are great ways to get to know other people in the community!

Host events on your own blog! Kinkmas, Kinktober are just 2 of the different kinds of things you can do to draw some more attention to your blog.

Use your tags! Take a look at the fics you love, and the tags you love and the kinds of tags they use. My go to tags include the name of the player i'm writing for, #nhl rpf, #nhl imagine, #hockey imagine, etc.

Write for who's popular. Writing for certain players will always give you more traction over certain players. For example, all of my Vince Dunn fics get over 100 notes. I can always count on them to do well. Whereas almost all of my fics or Ross Colton get less than 50.

Now to speak to some points regarding my tips for fic writing:

To completely contradict my last point from the last list - Write who YOU want to write not just who is POPULAR. Writing will always be more enjoyable if you are writing for players you enjoy.

If you are new to writing, start small. Write blurbs, imagines, etc. Not everything needs to be a novel/novella.

Write often. Even if you don't like what you've got on the page, any progress is good progress.

Find a system that works for you. Mine is currently as followed: -Outline ( from beginning to end, right down to the dialogue) -Write -Edit (with the help of Grammarly AND ProWriting Aid -Get a Beta (I don't always get a beta, but I will if I'm really concerned about a fic) -Edit again -Prepare the post in drafts -Edit for a final time -Queue for posting

Post on a schedule. This will give your followers a routine to look forward to. I always try to post on Tuesday and Thursdays. If I don't have anything new prepared, I will reblog something that I feel like deserved more love

Have a masterlist that makes it easy to find your fics (and pin it or keep it in your pinned post). I don't have one right now and I am cursing myself for not having one sooner.

Once again, USE your tags.

Hopefully these are helpful tips for you nonnie!