twisted // tyler seguin

sixty nine

(TYLER'S POV)

We were on a pesky losing streak that seemed to never end. Little mishaps- turnovers, too many men penalties, fighting majors- all of these added up to the big picture, which was dropping down two spots in the standings. We were now standing 3 points out of the last wild card spot in the Western conference.

What made all of this worse was that I was doing horrible as well; only 3 points in my last 5 games. Everything was screwing with me mentally, and to top it off? Savannah was adding to my plight.

Her health was deteriorating from being off her medicine from so long, and I was getting bitched at by her because of it. I never wanted anything but the best for her because she deserved it, but her attitude was out of control. Her anxiety caused most of her snide remarks, and she couldn't help it, but did that really grant her an excuse? Did I still have the right to be upset?

I didn't know, and I told myself to forgive her. Savannah was never hurtful by nature, so it was impossible to stay angry at her (but then again, it always was). But something this time around told me that things weren't right.

Savannah proved my theory when she ripped out a thong from a girl named Megan that was, allegedly, "In my suitcase". On everything, I did not have sex with her. I tried to prove to her that I was being honest- and I was- but she wasn't buying it. The panties were dry and had no type of wetness in them. Savannah counteracted that by claiming it was a thong, and that they were dry since I might've yanked them off. Excuse my brashness, but I wouldn't fuck a one night stand with her panties off. She disregarded that as well.

In the end, there was nothing I could do but explain to her the dramatics a girl would go through to be able to say, even in the slightest, that they slept with a hockey player. I guess I couldn't get too mad at her for not understanding, considering the circumstance she met me under.

Nonetheless, I still loved her. Even throughout the rough drought that the Stars went through, that finally ended thanks to a 1-0 win over the Red Wings. Two points was better than none.

I guessed Savannah must've watched the game from home as well, since she was a bit more chirpier when I got home. She greeted me as she leaned on the threshold of the living room, giving me a sly glance. Savannah was up to something; I could feel it in her aura.

And I was right- she ended up having sex with me that night. She was unusually adamant about it, as if she desperately needed to get off. And it wasn't just once that happened either- she came three times. In one night. Was I confused? Hell yes. But did I complain? Fuck no.

Savannah gave me head for what felt eternity before making me fuck her senseless. I went hard on her for as long as I could, and although I was exhausted between pleasuring her and winning a shitty game of hockey earlier that night, her moaning made it all worth it. Her hair was growing, and her hair was developing a dirtier, blond-ish hair color. I only noted this because of the extended amount of time I pulled on it, spouting unnecessary dirty talk into her ears.

Afterwards, she was quiet. She laid on top of me, tracing the tattoo on my rib. Her anxiety got to me; an uneasy feeling settled over me. "Sav, I've been really shitty lately with everything. I'm sorry."

"What makes you say that?" She asked.

I sighed. "I don't know, I've just been in this funk over everything lately, like with the losing streak and stuff. I'm getting caught up, and I don't want you to feel like I've given up on you."

Sav stayed quiet and nestled herself closer into my chest. Body language wasn't speaking loudly enough for me at this point. "Sav, at least say something. Please."

She lifted herself up onto her forearms, giving me a bothered look. "I know you haven't given up Tyler. You don't have to pressure yourself over me."

"It's the least I can do after all you've given me." My hand went through her long hair. Damn, she was fucking gorgeous.

She gave me a heavy sigh before laying back down. "You're too good for me Tyler."

-

Days past, and on one morning I finally saw Savannah taking her medicine for the first time in weeks. Her behavior remained erratic, and at times even worsened prior to her refill. She worried me. A lot. How long would it be before her withdrawal symptoms went away? When would she understand that the puck I gave away to the fan in the crowd the other night wasn't a girlfriend from high school I was seeing again?

But things got worse. Before her refill, Savannah would glide around the house with a devious look on her face, taking shots of Fireball and any other brown whiskey I had any chance she got. Her sex drive was on 1,000 and she was extremely unapologetic about it. She would fall onto my shoulder drunk, claiming that she needed a "spanking". The behavior was surreal to me.

I confronted her on it multiple times. Sav's only valid excuse was that she couldn't do anything until she got her medicine, which would take a while to restock due to it not being as popular as other medicines that are requested.

The day after she got her medicine refilled, I came home after a game to a quiet house. The TV wasn't on downstairs, so I checked to see if she might've been sleep from a nap she attempted to take- Sav was no where to be found. I shifted my attention to the second level of the house, checking my room first. Nothing was on in my room, and oddly enough, the same occurred in her room.

My panic heightened as I checked every room in my house. Everything came up short. It was damn near 11:30 at night- where the fuck was Savannah?