puccbunni

[puccbunni]

NEED ME? ━ L.N

in which you’re on vacation with your ex boyfriend, the only man who’s been able to make you cum in recent times.

warnings; smut, unprotected sex, eavesdropping, cocky lando, ex lovers, conversations of masturbation and inability to orgasm, hair pulling, oral both receiving, overstimulation, praise, slight degradation, choking ect.

it was a throw away question. one lando probably shouldn’t have brushed off.

“you’re sure you’re fine with her coming?” max had asked so casually despite it being on this tip of his tongue for the last hour, eyes not lifting from his phone to see the way lando looked at him with raised eyebrows.

the driver said your name in confusion, even chuckled. “of course. why wouldn’t i be?” lando followed; a rhetorical question. he knew why max was asking such thing.

he watched as max shrugged, hummed mindlessly as if he didn’t have a response prepared.

“wouldn’t catch me wanting to share a roof with my ex,” max mused; putting his phone down and finally meeting lando’s eyes, glare more so, quick to put his hands up in defence. “just saying. something to think about,” max quickly added.

he had his best friends best interest at heart.

“so what? we tell her she can’t come?” lando scoffed, shaking his head as he leant back into the seat he was occupying. “we’re friends. hasn’t been an issue before.” lando dismissed.

and he wasn’t lying. you’d broken up almost a year ago, which was concerning at first considering you shared the same friend group. were friends before lovers.

but it worked, you’d remained friends. saw each other every now and then, in a group setting. you weren’t as close, obviously, but it wasn’t awkward.

“no i know,” max huffed; even rolling his eyes. “maybe two villa’s is something to think about, that’s all.” max shrugged once more. he wasn’t just thinking of lando, but you as well, his other dear friend.

the brit shook his head, not giving in to the worry max seemed to hold. “not necessary. no different than being at the same hotel.” lando concluded.

he’d seen you on nights out, had conversations with you on boats; you still got an invite and paddock pass to his home race.

there was nothing to worry about. if you two weren’t capable of being friends, such thing would’ve been exposed.

that’s what lando thought anyways.

standing on the deck of a ten bedroom villa in the south of france however, he realised maybe he should’ve considered max’s words more carefully.

small doses of you seemed to differ from your constant presence.

the break up was civil, lando was grateful for such thing. it’d been him who ended things, purely because he felt as if he couldn’t give you the time you deserve. it was a cop out, he feared, realising things were almost too good between the pair of you.

he wasn’t sure he could commit to putting you through a relationship where you wouldn’t get the time and treatment you deserved.

you took it well, an angel in fact; you wanted to hate him for it. but you couldn’t bring yourself too. selfless enough to put the peace of your mutual friends and him first. plus, losing him entirely left a bitter taste in your mouth.

you’d mourned the relationship, cried in private and cursed him to your best friend; and moved on. well, appeared to have.

it went unspoken, amongst the group; in front of you two at least, and between you two as well. not exactly something you were ready to laugh at yet. it just seemed to go… unaddressed.

until it was night two, dinner at a fancy restaurant with maybe a few too many bottles of wine meant piling into ubers to get back to the villa.

it sort of just happened, lando shuffling into the car behind you; leaving you in the middle of him and max; pietra on max’s lap and tom in the front.

your senses were consumed of him immediately, not able to avoid him considering you were practically pressed into his side in an attempt to give pietra enough room.

you glanced up at him once, smiling sheepishly to see his eyes already on you.

“you still wear it,” lando hummed casually, pinky finger reaching to brush over the bracelet he’d bought you a few months into your relationship, grazing your wrist as he did so.

your cheeks went a shade of pink at the observation, and if it weren’t for the fact you were wine drunk you probably would’ve made up an excuse as to why the piece of metal still found it’s way onto your wrist everyday.

“it’s my favourite,” you replied; glancing down at the piece as your hand moved to fiddle with it, small smile playing on your lips.

you missed the grin spread on lando’s face, a sense of pride fulfilling him as he recounted the stress it had caused him just picking out the damn bracelet. he was relieved to see you still wearing it, for some reason.

“i’ve got good taste.” lando bragged, eyes practically begging for yours to meet his again; smiling in amusement when they did as you nudged him.

you were suddenly even more aware of the closeness, the way your knees were touching, how his arm had stretched to rest over the headrest behind you. it was forced proximity sure, but an odd sense of familiarity that you hadn’t felt in a while was accompanying it.

“most of the time,” you mused, earning a nudge back ━ which had a giggle escaping you, one you attempted to hush; not wanting to draw attention to you and lando’s conversation.

if it did, the others in the car would’ve seen the way lando’s face lit up at the sound. he hadn’t made you laugh like that in months, he’d forgotten how good it felt to do so.

he’d almost forgotten how easy you were to be around. how easy it was to fall for you in the first place.

it was as if the universe was punishing him for such thing, because suddenly you were all he could think about once more.

that night, he was simply relaxing in his room; when you came waltzing in.

“p,” your voice hummed as you knocked; pushing the door open before lando could muster a response from inside. “do you have my top━ oh shit, sorry!” you’d cut yourself short when you found yourself standing in lando’s room. not pietra and max’s.

who was luckily just lounging on the bed in his joggers, not far from switching the lamp off and going to sleep.

but he had been shocked to see you enter his room in just a towel.

“you’re fine,” lando chuckled; having sit up. “we swapped rooms this morning… figured they should have a private bathroom,” lando explained; watching as your face softened in some sort of relief.

you hadn’t been crazy. regardless, still embarrassed; the redness on your cheeks clear as you nodded, cringing ever so slightly.

“right; my bad, sorry,” you repeated; not even wanting to imagine what else you could’ve walked in on.

lando simply chuckled, shaking his head as his eyes glanced over your figure just once; unable to help himself. having to swallow to not let himself think back to what he knows is underneath the towel keeping you modest.

“i’m gonna go,” you declared; sheepishly smiling as you turned on your heel; cringing once more now that you were out of sight, not hiding the urgency as you practically fled his room and slammed the door behind you.

lando hadn’t realised he was holding his breath until you left, body relaxing as he flopped back onto the mattress; a curse leaving his lips.

the next morning, you were there again. obviously. yet he couldn’t see you, nor could you see him. so technically he was eavesdropping; but it hadn’t been on purpose.

lando was out on his balcony first, which was above yours it appeared; mindlessly scrolling through his phone before arabella’s voice became audible, who you were rooming with this trip.

“since when did nicolas get ripped,” she’d posed to you, peering at the man who was dipping in the pool; your eyes following her gaze from where you both sat in deck chairs; smoothies in hand.

“he’s always been cute,” you pointed out; shrugging ever so slightly as you adjusted the sunglasses atop your head, rolling your eyes the moment you caught glance of arabella’s grin.

“and he’s always been into you.” arabella chimed, and you should’ve expected her to steer the conversation in such direction.

lando whoever, who hadn’t scrolled past the tik tok which was playing for the fourth time now, had not expected such words.

his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. you and nicolas? yeah right. you two were close friends, he knew that much. but nothing more. surely not.

“we’re friends bella,” you dismissed; shaking your head. slightly flirty friends as of recent, you’d admit. but just friends.

“so? doesn’t have to stay that way,” arabella had grinned ━ and lando felt betrayed; as if it should be him the pair of you were talking about. not nicolas.

“yes it does.” you laughed. “i’m not dating within the friend group ever again,” you spoke in such certainty it had lando confused, he didn’t think it faired that bad the first time.

but he also wasn’t opposed to your declaration. not that he was close to nicolas, in fact he probably knew him the least. but he was a brother of a childhood friend, who’d tagged along the last few trips. and lando had no complaints of the guy.

“don’t be silly,” arabella huffed. “i’m not saying fall in love with him. just that he could end the sex drought you’re stuck in.” arabella hummed, your eyes widening as you hit her softly.

“what? no one can hear us!” arabella spoke dramatically, and you rolled your eyes; no argument because you figured she was right.

however she wasn’t, because lando was still listening. and his interest had suddenly spiked.

“i am not… stuck in a sex drought,” you huffed; not sounding one bit convincing as you glanced at the pool. “men just suck. i’ve given up on having an orgasm.” your words were dramatic, and playful, but still a bit of truth to them.

suddenly lando felt guilty for overhearing, or purposefully listening, but he couldn’t help but be intrigued.

your words made no sense to him; considering nights with you would always lead to multiple orgasms for both of you.

and it wasn’t as if you were short on options.

“gotta do everything yourself these days,” arabella sighed out dramtically in agreement; but she had a boyfriend, and your friendship with the girl wasn’t one for many secrets; you knew she was only ‘relating’ out of sympathy.

truth was; since lando, nothing or no one could compare. not even your own damn fingers.

“can’t even get myself off.” you huffed out almost ashamed, and you only whined when you met arabella’s shocked eyes and slack jaw.

lando suddenly felt intrusive, and flustered from the idea of you touching yourself; one he’d grown familiar with due to long distance. suddenly he was standing and ready to walk himself inside in his room.

“is your body like… broken?” arabella sounded bewildered, and you could only huff.

you’d blame it on stress, or any of your medication if it was possible; you’ve heard stories, knew there could be many reasons as to why your sex drive and urges have suddenly changed. none aligned with your circumstances however.

“just deprived i think,” you sighed.

lando needed to get his mind off your sexual need’s immediately, deciding to go on a run with max to occupy himself. to get you off his mind.

and it worked, until he got back to the villa. hot and out of breath, he found himself in the kitchen ━ pouring a glass of water with ice, eyes wandering out the fold out doors that exposed the luxurious back yard. decking, sun lounges, a pool; and his closest friends.

and his ex girlfriend. in a little bikini. with another man’s hands on her.

he couldn’t help but scoff at the sight, you resting on your stomach as nicolas rubbed sunscreen into your back ━ watching as you grinned and spoke up to him momentarily. you were flirting, he knew that look.

his takeaways from his… eavesdropping, was that you didn’t plan to pursue nicolas. so what the fuck was this?

he wanted to laugh, you were going to seek answers to your problems in nicolas? he almost felt offended; if you needed good sex so badly he felt as if he was the obvious candidate.

“careful mate, you’re staring,” max’s words snapped lando out of his thoughts; causing him to glare at the man quickly, bringing his glass to his lips, unaware that his grip was so tight his knuckles were white.

max’s amusement only escalated, eyebrows raising as he chuckled quietly.

“i wasn’t.” lando murmured, leaning back against the counter. “just didn’t know that was a thing,” he tried to shrug off; eyes returning to where you now sat up, rubbing sunscreen into nicolas’s back now.

had he been oblivious to the pair of you?

“i don’t think it is.” max shrugged, following lando’s gaze momentarily, not overanalysing the sight. everyone was friends here.

lando looked to max in doubt, to check if he was being serious.

“does it matter if it is?” max questioned, sassily too, almost a challenge; and lando was quick to scoff ━ mustering up the best chuckle he could to appear as unbothered as he wanted to be.

“no,” the mclaren driver answered almost too quickly, clearing his throat slightly. “i hope it is. would be a good match,” he overcompensated; left to only flip max off as he chuckled and hummed unconvincingly.

“whatever you say,” max mused.

lando wished he was being honest, but as time passed by it became quite clear he was lying.

dinner that night you were sat at opposite ends of the long table, like usual; regardless, lando’s eyes were trained on you for the majority of the night.

you and nicolas of course. who’d snagged the seat next to you.

forced to watch as you shared food, laughed and chattered away in your own little world.

lando felt sick from the sight; that used to be him. should be him. and while he could only blame himself for it not being him, it was a cruel reminder of what he’d lost.

he felt utterly helpless however, because there was nothing he could do.

he couldn’t even express his dismay to anyone as he watched nicolas help you in the car. left to watch as you both giggled and stumbled up to the villa ahead of the group.

he wanted to intervene, to make his presence known to hopefully at least make it awkward. but he couldn’t bring himself too.

not when you’d been such an angel in the breakup, made things so easy for him from the start of the relationship to now. it just wouldn’t be fair to ruin this for you.

even though it was all he wanted to do.

he noted how you two were first off to go ‘sleep’ that night, halfway through the movie that had been put on. and he suddenly wished he’d downed a few more glasses of red at the restaurant, maybe then he wouldn’t have the capacity to brainstorm up everything and anything you and nicolas could be doing tonight.

he wasn’t going to say it was what kept him up, tossing and turning and unable to fall asleep; but it definitely played on his mind.

it was starting to make sense to him at least; he hadn’t been around you without distractions since the breakup. it suddenly became clear how helpful those distractions are.

3:42 the clock read.

lando hadn’t gotten a second of shut eye, and after two hours of laying there; he conceded. deciding to get a glass of water as if that would be the solution to all his problems.

instead he was just met with the problem itself; you.

surprise, surprise. nicolas was not the answer to your prayers.

you were already keen to tell arabella ‘i told you so’ when you returned to your room. having spent the night in nicolas’.

he was a nice guy, until the clothes came off.

it was nothing new, you on top; he came. you didn’t. he then tried to get you to finish with his fingers, and you faked an orgasm when it became clear he wasn’t finding your clit any time soon.

your frustrations had now multiplied, it felt pathetic. you were ready to give up.

you snuck out the moment he fell asleep, in the kitchen to get a glass of water and for a few moments to yourself.

“shouldn’t be surprised you’re up,” lando made his presence known, having debated running back to his room when he noticed you occupying the kitchen.

typical.

“needed a drink,” you hummed sheepishly; and for some reason when your eyes met his you felt intimidated; as if you needed refuge, turning back around to the fridge to fill your cup up with ice.

maybe it was because you were already sexually frustrated. or the fact you were stood with your ex boyfriend after sneaking out of another guys room.

“same,” lando hummed; moving behind you to grab a glass for himself, and you could feel him waiting behind you as you poured water into the glass.

“nice night?” lando asked when you moved aside so he too could fill his glass, not looking at you for the time being so you wouldn’t decipher the motives in the question. he didn’t need you to know how concerned he was with your night.

you nodded quickly, humming as you still had a mouth full of water, leaning against the counter now.

“yeah, yeah,” you spoke; pursing your lips. it had been. until it wasn’t. “restaurant was lovely,” you smiled; shifting on your feet slightly as you took in his appearance, even in the dull lightly.

his messy curls that look slept on, slightly tired eyes. he looked cozy.

lando nodded, so much on the tip of his tongue. maybe if it was a different hour of the day he’d have the common sense to not speak his mind, but he was slightly sleep deprived and going insane from his own thoughts.

“you know my balcony is above yours,” lando told you; randomly, your eyebrows furrowing ━ coughing out a slight laugh. you weren’t sure where this conversation was going to lead, your guess was awkward silence. not him blurting out something… irrelevant.

it took a few moments for it to dawn on you, the slight curve of lando’s lips into a smirk causing your eyes to widen in realisation.

you’d only been out on the balcony once today.

“oh my god,” you mumbled; cringing as he chuckled, shaking his head ever so slightly. “shut up!” you whisper yelled, leaning forward to whack his arm, which only had him laughing once more as his hands flew up in defence.

“i wasn’t eavesdropping! i swear,” lando mused, shaking his head as your eyebrows raised.

“great, so you just happened to hear all about my sad sex life,” you huffed, and lando couldn’t help the small smile that was refusing to leave his lips; always having adored the sight of you flustered and sheepish.

it didn’t help, the sight of you wearing what seemed to be just an oversized shirt. reminiscent of how his shirts would drape over your body.

“yeah,” lando confirmed sympathetically, causing you to whack him again; no force in your actions as you groaned audibly.

you couldn’t think of anyone you’d rather not hear that conversation; ever so grateful you hadn’t been completely honest with arabella.

you would die of humiliation if you’d told her how you compared every man to lando, how you found no one was able to make you feel anywhere near as good.

but regardless, there was a level of comfort. you trusted the man in front of you.

“nicolas though hm?” lando spoke light heartedly, reminding you of the man you’d just been in bed with.

was it bad he’d slipped your mind completely? having forgotten that he was who sparked such conversation this morning.

“did he make you cum?” his follow up question had you dumbfounded, having not expected such blunt words as your lips parted. “can i ask that?” lando added with a reassuring laugh. but you knew that look in his eyes.

they were darker than usual, he was staring at you intently; practically begging you to step closer.

“no,” you cleared your throat, opting for honesty. “he didn’t.” you huffed, eyes avoiding his for a moment as if you were ashamed. as if it was your fault.

the relief lando felt was pathetic, not that he wished a bad time upon you. or anyone for that matter. but god it felt like the door had been swung right open for him.

he was right; of course nicolas wasn’t going to do it for you.

“i know you can make yourself cum.” lando chimed, pushing himself off the counter and taking a couple steps towards you; ridding any distance as he stood in front of you. “used to be able to at least, seen it myself,” he told you as if you could forget.

you swallowed intently, the tension now almost suffocating. sleeping with an ex was something you swore against; recipe for disaster. but it seemed awfully appealing when it looked like lando did right now.

your cheeks were pink, thinking about the countless times you’d gotten yourself off on facetime calls with the driver, purely because neither of you could wait any longer to see one another again.

“not the same anymore.” your voice was barely above a whisper, it didn’t need to be; not when he was only centimetres away, looking down at you as if he was ready to ravish you.

lando’s eyebrow raised at that, eyes flickering across your face.

it wasn’t the same, you’d worked out the hard way. you only relied on your own devices when you had no other choice; and with that would be lando on the of phone with words of encouragement and direction.

“what, need me to talk you through it again?” his words were teasing as his hand moved to cup your cheek; your stomach turning at the thought. at the fact he seemed like he knew that would do it for you.

you let out a slight breath, shaking your head but you held little confidence in doing so.

“need me to touch you?” he added on, offer sounding almost like a request; words so hushed you could’ve missed them. but you didn’t, you heard him loud and clear.

his eyes were pouring into yours as if he pitied you, but the smirk on his face showed he wanted nothing more than to be the one to solve your problems.

you didn’t even need to think about it, no ifs or buts entering your mind; nothing could make the idea of him seem unappealing.

“please,” you mumbled; eyes pouring up into his, watching as a wicked grin spread on his features; one that made your knees weak.

it was all lando needed to hear, lips pressing against yours in an instant; it coming back to the pair of you quickly. feeling so natural, the way your body melted into his touch; the way your lips moved against each other.

your hands finding a grip on his shirt as his spread across your hips.

lando didn’t waste any time; he wanted to make you cum.

he wasn’t sure if it was because it seemed like a challenge, or because he missed you; but god did he want nothing more than to make you feel good:

his knee pushed between your thighs first, your legs spreading; immediately aware of the finger he was tracing up your inner thigh.

as much as lando missed the feeling of your lips against his, he loved watching you react to every touch and feeling. pulling away but not creating much distance as his fingers brushed over your clothed folds.

you took a sharp breath, shifting your weight to lean against the counter as the anticipation built within, eyes locked on his as he teasingly brushed your clothed clit as well.

he could feel your soaked panties, a wet patch that you knew wasn’t there when you first entered the kitchen.

“you know it doesn’t make sense,” lando started speaking through a breath; his fingers pushing your panties aside with ease, swiping through your folds; spreading your wetness to your clit. “because you’re always so easy for me baby,” he practically cooed as he slipped two fingers inside you.

your jaw fell slack, hips pushing against his hand lightly as you whimpered; cheeks hinting at his taunting words which you’d almost forgotten about and how crazy they drove you.

his free hand returned to your cheek, cupping the side of your face and adjusting your head to ensure you were looking up at him; his head tilting ever so slightly as he gazed down at you.

“so responsive,” he added in a hum; looking incredibly smug, thumb settling on your clit ━ and the moan that escaped you as he circled your sensitive bud had lando’s jaw clenching. he’d missed your pretty sounds.

he was toying with you, teasing. his fingers moving slowly, thumb only lightly circling your clit. yet you hadn’t felt this good in fucking forever, face contorting in pleasure proving such thing.

lando could get lost in the sight, not able to help himself from wanting to give you more.

his fingers gradually picked up the pace, thumb applying more pressure now; but it was when he curled his fingers, grazing that spot he never failed to miss, that you hadn’t been able to find, that a slightly louder moan escaped you.

“ah, ah,” lando hushed you; tapping your cheek lightly. “gotta be quiet baby,” lando hummed through heavy breaths, hating that he had to ask such thing of you.

he wanted to hear you lose control, hear you scream his name like you had countless of times. but he’d hate to be interrupted and have the current sight cut short.

you whined quietly at the request, biting down on your bottom lip as you tried to keep any noise at bay; knowing you had no choice. waking anyone up would be less than ideal.

but somehow, the thought of being caught was the least of your concerns.

your back arched when he added a third, thumb still expertly playing with your clit; your quiet whimpers and moans were growing in volume once more.

lando took matters into his own hands, the hand cupping your cheek shifting so he could tap his pointer finger on your bottom lip; and he had to shut himself up this time as you invited two digits past your lips without second thought.

“fuck,” he mumbled out; eyes fixated on the way you looked up at him with his fingers in your mouth; so similar to the sight of when you’d suck him off. his hard on was almost painful.

your moans were muffled now, thankfully, as your hips pushed forward once more; slowly losing control over your body as the pleasure continued to build.

you’d made a mess on your thighs, his fingers working in and out of you perfectly; beginning to curl his fingers repeatedly had your eyes rolling back.

“yeah, right there baby?” lando mumbled; despite you unable to respond. “gonna make a mess on my fingers yeah? think you deserve to cum,” he smirked ━ and if you could’ve you would’ve cried out, nodding quickly at his words.

your stomach tightened, it was sudden; more sudden than you remembered, lando having caught on to the fact you were cumming before you did; squeezing his fingers as you came undone.

his body was practically holding you up against the counter, vision going white for a moment as your muffled moans filled the air, hips bucking involuntarily once more.

lando wanted to curse himself for ever depriving himself of such thing, watching as you shook in front of him; fingers moving to let you ride out your high, until he was pulling them from your panties, and mouth respectively.

your eyes fluttered open, nothing but awe as you gazed up at him through hooded eyes; panting ever so lightly.

he was smiling cockily, if he didn’t know the root of your issue before, he did now. the way you needed him.

you couldn’t even crush his inflating ego, not when he’d made you cum so hard in a matter of minutes; giving you what you’d been chasing the past few months.

he was about to kiss you again, after moments of admiring your face; but the sound of a door shutting had the moment ruined, reminding both you and him of where you are and what you’re meant to be.

definitely not meant to be caught having a moment at 4 in the morning.

lando was quick in taking a few large strides across the kitchen, positioning himself on the other side of the island as you quickly tugged your shirt down and ran your hand through your hair.

when pietra walked in, it was an innocent sight. plenty of distance between the pair of you, not enough lights on to expose your flushed cheeks or lando’s glistening fingers.

you pretended to be surprised as you brought your glass to your lips, leaning against the counter because your legs were still shaky, lando nodding towards the blonde.

“can’t sleep?” lando hummed in question.

“need to fill my water up.” pietra nodded with a smile, eyes flickering between you in suspicion for a brief moment as she realised this was almost an awkward thing to walk in on. you and him.

if only she knew.

you nodded in agreement, raising your glass of water as lando let out a small chuckle.

“if you need a late night snack, the donuts are great,” lando spoke again; your eyes falling onto him, and you were sure your face was bright red as you watched him bring his fingers to his lips; licking them clean.

you coughed on air, playing it off as if your water went down the wrong way; pietra oblivious as she nodded with a smile.

“i’ll keep that in mind.”

the smirk he’d sent you was sickening, and with that he was saying good night and excusing himself.

lando ended up needing a cold shower that night, with his own hand and images of you burned into his mind.

you were hoping your head would be clear when you woke up, but it was only more scrambled.

you’d gotten what you wanted, was it greedy to only want more?

“good night?” arabella had questioned you, sitting next to you on the long dining table; bowls of cereal in front of pair of you; and the smirk on her face was quite telling.

except she didn’t know the half of it.

“yeah, yeah it was good,” you hummed; eyes shifting to the other end of the table; where lando sat, already staring at you. the mischievous glint in his eye had you looking away quickly, the sly smirk not helping you in trying to play it cool to arabella.

you knew he was listening.

“did your… problem get solved?” arabella attempted to ask without outing you, so oblivious to the fact lando could easily piece together her words.

your eyes narrowed towards her, as if to say ‘shut up.’ which she only looked back at you with wide eyes, finding herself quite discrete.

“well?” arabella pushed, whisper yelling.

“yes,” you huffed; in hopes she would shut up, you could feel lando’s eyes burning into you. the man who solved your problem, unbeknownst to arabella who thought it was nicolas who was responsible.

“ah! how exciting,” arabella grinned; standing up and taking her bowel to the kitchen, only then did you let your eyes fall back on the british driver.

who looked oh so amused, you had to flee; following in the girls steps.

it set the tone for the next few days; longing looks, tempting smirks and lingering touches.

you couldn’t bring yourself to go out of your way and seek more of him; despite how much you wanted it. nicolas had been forgotten about, failing to explain your sudden interest and now lack of in the guy.

lando was all you could think about. how couldn’t you? he’d fingered you in the kitchen, bringing you to a mind blowing orgasm you’d been craving; one you hadn’t experienced since him. and once again, it had gone unaddressed.

the tension was clear; you got peace from the fact he was in the same boat as you.

you hated that he’d walked off so smug that night and you yourself had nothing to brag about, left to accept the fact that you needed him. had missed him.

and he knew it.

so maybe you were tactical, every day the dresses got shorter. bikini’s got smaller. you wanted to see him squirm.

which was easy.

it was ridiculous, how often you felt his gaze burning into you; feeling the heat on your skin from such thing. you’d blame the hot summer sun for the the constant blush on your cheeks but in reality it was him.

made to feel better by the way his jaw was constantly clenched. hands fiddling with one another. leg bouncing impatiently because he was furious with the fact you were no longer his, he couldn’t whisk you away and tear your clothes off like he wanted too.

left to simply stare. dwell on the facts. wish that he somehow gets a moment alone with you again.

there were sliding doors.

two minutes alone underneath the cabin on a boat, both trying to find something to drink. he swore you were about to kiss him before max came bouncing down the stairs.

you’d all gone out one night, somehow it was only you two left at the bar. lando was convinced this was it, he was going to drag you off to the bathroom.

but then arabella appeared, demanding shots.

you’d never admit that you went out to the kitchen most nights, hoping he too would be awake at such ridiculous hour again.

you tried not to get frustrated, even with the knowledge there was only a couple days till you’d be flying back home to reality.

finally however, you got lucky.

lando had gone on a run; unbeknownst to you, who had slept in.

you rejected plans of going to a winery, choosing for a day by the pool to save energy to go out tonight like planned.

your group of friends had attempted to protest your decision, but you insisted. bribed them with a promise you would do some baking while they were out.

that’s where lando found you.

stood in the kitchen. of course.

tiny bikini. typical.

and no one else in sight. lovely.

“smells fucking amazing.” lando hummed; slightly breathless as he sauntered into the kitchen, moving to stand against the island ━ a safe distance between the pair of you.

the voice had startled you, jumping slightly as you turned around.

you smiled appreciatively at his words, attempting to not stare at his exposed torso. tanned skin, beads of sweat decorating it. his muscles only more prominent as he crossed his arms, flexing invitingly.

“would feel bad letting such a big kitchen go to waste,” you explained; shrugging ever so slightly as your eyes returned to the chocolate chip cookies you were currently making. refuge from the sight of him.

he chuckled, and nodded; not that you saw. but his eyes didn’t leave you.

he should go up to his room.

“who’s home?” he couldn’t help but ask, feet planted. he wasn’t going anywhere.

the question had you facing what you were trying to ignore; the fact it was just the pair of you. it was dangerous knowledge.

“just us,” you spoke through a breath. if the tension wasn’t clear before, those two words had it falling upon the pair of you like bricks.

lando nodded once more, lips pursing. you were so tempting. this was what he’d been hoping for. he was impressed he even had the mental strength to consider running off. hiding in his room till your friends returned.

that idea didn’t last long though. moving towards you, you heard him approaching; his presence was demanding.

he was behind you, causing you to freeze. breath stuck in your throat.

“you’re driving me crazy.” he’d whispered, despite no fear of anyone overhearing; and you had to shut your eyes for a brief moment when his lips grazed your ear, ensuring you knew just how in reach he was.

you found some solace in his words, confirming your suspicions. reassuring to know you weren’t the only one going crazy. the only one feeling nostalgic.

“how so?” you played dumb, bottom lip rolling through your teeth ━ regardless your head tilted aside as his lips grazed your skin again, his breath fanning your skin.

you heard him grunt, and it would’ve made you giggle if you weren’t fighting off the urge to jump his bones.

“don’t act like it’s not on purpose.” lando huffed, hands moving to play with the fiddling strings of your bikini, fingertips only just brushing your skin.

you had to draw in another breath, suddenly feeling exposed and vulnerable. you needed some sort of power, just a physical reminder that he too was struggling despite his admission.

so you turned on your feet, eyes flickering up to his as you shrugged your shoulders; breaths slightly irregular from the closeness. right in front of you. trapping you against the counter.

“know you haven’t forgotten that all you need to do is use your words if you want me to fuck you,” lando spoke before you could, oozing cockiness despite his wandering eyes and tense jaw; his patience wearing thin.

once more you were cornered in the kitchen by his attractive frame and blunt words that had your thighs squeezing together.

“goes both ways,” you chimed; worried if you didn’t speak now you wouldn’t get a word in. you knew how this went; it was only a matter of time till you were a mess in his hands.

his eyebrows raised, he even scoffed; if he wasn’t so eager for you to go on he would’ve reminded you it didn’t.

lando always had a kink for making you beg.

“i already got what i wanted,” you hummed; hands moving to rest on his toned abdomen, running down and across the muscles before finding the waistband of his joggers. “something you want?”

your teasing tone had lando remembering just how worked up you got him, how frustrating and almost annoying you were. how annoying it was to deal with your antics that was.

“the other night was more than enough for me baby,” lando mused; not cracking, even with your hands on his body. “always look so pretty when you cum.”

you wish his words didn’t have such a visible effect on you. how flustered you got clear by the way the blood rushed to your cheeks, even while you stood here playing with the waistband of his pants.

it was pathetic; neither of you wanting to crack first, wasting precious time because you both really thought you were above this.

able to be friends. exes who wouldn’t go back to each other.

you knew he wasn’t entirely lying; of course you could remember how you were gifted a man who got off from getting you off. how he’d spent nights with his head just buried between your thighs. making you cum countless of times before he got his dick wet.

“cold shower treat you well?” you huffed; not letting him get away with such thing. as if he wasn’t standing here with the need to fuck you.

he smirked at your words, your attitude more so; the playful banter having been something he’d missed. something that wasn’t the same since things became platonic.

“did the job.” he laughed, hands still ghosting over your hips. “jealous i can still get myself off?” he couldn’t help but chuckle; and your jaw dropped at him using confidential information against you.

your hands still on his stomach, whacking lightly which he only chuckled harder at; and if you weren’t embarrassed you’d be taking in the way the smile was lighting up his face.

“that was not something you’re meant to use against me,” you practically grumbled; eyes narrowing up at him and he practically awed at the sight, adoring eyes and all as his hand moved to cup your cheek. his grin not matching the sympathetic eyes.

“i’m sorry,” he mumbled jokingly as he leant forward; not giving you time to reply as he put the both of you out of your misery, lips connecting with yours.

it wasn’t what you’d both expected, the kiss to finally ease the tension that had been building ever since a few nights ago in the same spot; the kiss was slow. passionate and deep, but not rushed.

it didn’t last long; but was nice in the moment however. to feel him.

the urge to feel more however was soon too prominent.

your hands that had linked behind his neck soon tangled in his hair. the grip he had on your waist soon moved to your ass, squeezing the flesh within his hold which had you leaning into him.

he lazily dragged you back with him, his back hitting the kitchen island as he practically held you against his body; lips moving in sync.

you felt his hard on with the movement, contained by his joggers; your own excitement jumping as your hands left his hair to snake down between your bodies; palming him.

the groan against your lips only motivated you; and while you wish you could do what he does, stand here and tease him; you were too keen to get your hands on him. to hear more of those pretty sounds he makes.

so you simply smiled up at him as you pulled away; bending down and settling on your knees; hands tugging his pants and underwear down with you; revealing his cock.

his breaths were a lot heavier as he watched you, leaning back against the counter ever so slightly, gaze fixed downwards as a small smirk tugged on the corner of his mouth.

he hissed as your small hand wrapped around him; thumb swirling the precum ━ you loving every bit of knowing how turned you got him from just a few words and the sight of you.

he wouldn’t ever deny it either; no one did it for him like you did.

“look so pretty on your knees,” lando praised; eager to gain back some control, despite knowing he’d do anything you asked of him right now; your hand feeling much than his did the other night.

you were eager to continue to please, so you didn’t waste any time in taking him in your mouth. it was as if he knew such thing, by the way his eyes were peering down at you.

his head fell back at the sensation, one he’d missed ━ arms flexing as he gripped the counter; a few curses strung together tumbling from his lips as you practically took him in whole first go.

his tip hitting the back of your throat did little to deter you. it was natural, as if you’d done such thing only a few days ago; not months ━ second nature as your tongue swirled his cock.

your eyes remained up, looking through your lashes as your head bobbed ━ knees uncomfortably shifting against the tiles but it was the last thing on your mind with the beautiful man above you.

taking in the way his abs flexed, neck strained and lips parted as you sucked him off ━ gagging occasionally but both of you knew that was no issue.

“missed this fucking mouth,” lando grunted, hand moving to tangle in your hair; both to keep it out of your way and to just have some sort of hold on you.

he was blindsided with pleasure, more than he remembered he’d be. your bikini did little to leave much to the imagination from his angle, watching as your breasts bounced with every movement. matched with your doe eyes, his jaw was slack.

you hummed as he tugged your hair lightly, the sensation one you always welcomed; and he too was reminded of such as he felt the vibrations around him. tugging again with a little more force.

his groans were gradually becoming more regular, hips bucking once or twice ━ pushing his cock further down your throat each time.

“just like that baby, always so good for me,” lando breathed, eyes screwing such momentarily as his head fell back once more.

you almost whined at the vision, wanting to scramble to your feet and kiss at his skin, feel all over him.

and he’d be happy to let you, he was hesitant in having you get him off first regardless; you hadn’t left much room for argument with good reason.

but right now he had no complaints, moans growing slightly louder in volume ━ grip tightening on the strands of your hair. he didn’t give you any warning as he came, but you didn’t need any.

the way he twitched in your mouth, you didn’t miss a beat ━ swallowing all you could; revelling in the way your name left his lips.

your mouth left him with a pop, gazing up at him to meet his adoring eyes, staring down at you as if you were the greatest thing to grace the earth.

because he did think of you as such. you continued to amaze him, he didn’t grow immune to such thing; just had managed to avoid the fact for a while now.

you stood to your feet, relieving your knees of the discomfort; a coy smile plastered on your lips at him panting and flustered.

you felt even, for the other night; reassured you weren’t the only one in need.

lando couldn’t complain either, couldn’t throw a playful comment towards you ━ not when you stood there with messy hair and swollen lips. all he could think about was turning you into a whiny mess, desperate to have you at his mercy again.

it was clear neither of you knew what to say in the few moments of silence; shamelessly admiring the other, catching your breaths. it wasn’t awkward however.

you were happy to feel his lips on yours once more ━ his hands not shy in wandering your body this time, sliding down to your thighs and hoisting you up immediately.

he was swift in turning around and placing you on the counter, stood between your legs as he hummed against your lips.

it wasn’t until his mouth ducked to your neck, then your collar bones, becoming harder to ignore as your head fell back, growing hot from the kisses he placed where-ever he could, that you spoke up.

“should go to your room,” you managed to get out, watching him through hooded eyes as he simply grabbed the material of your bikini to let your breasts fall free, kissing at the skin of them afterwards.

it wasn’t that you were worried on being walked in on, you had the house to yourselves for at least a couple more hours. you knew that. more so just the knowledge this wasn’t your house.

his eyebrows raised as he looked back up at you, hand sprawling over your stomach as he pushed you back slightly; your body blindly following the suggestion as you leant back on your hands.

“i paid for this villa baby, if i wanna fuck you on the counter i will,” lando murmured, hands spreading your thighs further apart; putting you in no position to argue you.

how could you? his words sounded like a promise, one you could only hope he would keep.

you nodded pathetically, suddenly aware of his hands resting high up on your inner thighs; suddenly aware of your own arousal and need for him.

he discarded of your bikini bottoms with ease, admiring your frame for a few moments as his hand reached to squeeze your breast, nipple rolling through his fingers moments later.

“lando,” you breathed; almost in warning, almost a whine. your legs were still spread and you were already resisting the urge to squirm. your patience non existent.

he only grinned, a slight chuckle maybe as his hands pushed your legs further apart once more.

“i got you baby,” lando hummed. “always so needy for me, you need me yeah? don’t you?” he spoke teasingly, tone painfully sweet as his fingers traced over your soaked folds.

you wanted to curse his obvious teasing, point out how you hadn’t been so cruel. but you knew it’d be no use.

you were scared to admit such thing, huffing as your hips bucked upwards momentarily.

“want to hear you say it.” lando grunted when he realised you weren’t planning on speaking; pinching your clit to get his point across, a strangled moan escaping you as your lips parted, falling into submission.

“need you.” you whined almost shamefully, head falling back as if the ceiling would offer you refuge from his hard stare. “please,”

your pleas were always music to his ears, so much so he debated with the idea of teasing you some more; to draw more whines and please out of you. but the way you were spread for him, so ready; he couldn’t help himself any longer.

you yelped at the sudden feeling of his mouth on your clit, sucking at your sensitive bud; not expecting such feeling as your eyes rolled back.

his hands manoeuvred your thighs to place your legs over his shoulders; giving him full access to your core as sweet moans started to escape you.

“o-oh my god,” you whimpered; eyes flickering to the sight of his head between your thighs ━ back arching as his tongue swiped through your folds, assaulting your cunt relentlessly as if he was starved.

you’d been reminded of how good his fingers were; so much so you hadn’t even considered getting his tongue again.

his large hands were squeezing your thighs, a bruising grip to keep you in place; eating you out expertly.

“lando━ feels so good,” you moaned as if that wasn’t clear by the way your hips were pushing against his hold. your right hand left the counter, moving to tangle in his curls, something to grab.

his blue eyes ventured to the sight of you momentarily, and he groaned into your cunt as he took note of the way your face was contorting in pleasure, how your body flinched with every move he made.

whimpers and moans were free falling, lando enjoying every single one ━ glad you could be as loud as you wanted, as loud as he made you.

you knew you were approaching your high shamefully fast, but had little room to care when you’d failed to reach it so much recently.

lando knew your body too well, could tell by the way you were tugging on his curls and creating more force against the hold he had on your thighs that you were about to cum.

he wanted you to let go, tongue flicking and nose bumping your clit ━ you orgasmed hard, suddenly; cumming on his tongue with what almost sounded like a squeal.

he didn’t stop, letting you ride out your high ━ before pulling away, wiping at the corners of his mouth.

you were mistaken however in thinking you would have time to catch your breath, not getting a word out before lando was moving only one leg off his shoulder and sliding two fingers into your entrance suddenly; thumb landing on your sensitive clit.

your body almost didn’t know how to react, falling back onto your hands that found the counter you sat upon once more to stabilise yourself.

“s’ too much,” you whimpered ━ legs attempting to squeeze shut, failing with the angle caused by one leg draped over lando’s shoulder, which allowed his fingers to hit deep within you.

lando hummed in amusement, knowing how much you could take. knowing you always said that, just to whine and cry out if he were to stop.

“too much?” he mocked; fingers curling and your body jerking. “want me to stop?” he breathed; smirking oh so cockily because he knew the answer. chuckling as you shook your head ‘no’ incredibly quickly.

“didn’t think so,” he huffed; thumb speeding up on your clit, rolling over the bud continuously. it was pure ecstasy, the overstimulation overwhelming your entire body.

his breaths were heavy as he admired you, the way you were shaking beneath him. reminiscent of how easily he could you like this, of the nights he made you cum four or five times before fucking you.

it killed him he didn’t have the time to do so again. but he couldn’t possibly complain right now.

“making a mess baby, all over my fingers,” lando spoke; the filthy sounds of his fingers moving in out of you filling the room, and you weren’t sure you’d last much longer when he entered a third. “so greedy. gonna cum again aren’t you?”

it was like he was three steps ahead of your body, leaving you to whine and nod pathetically.

“yeah? that what you want? to cum again?” lando spoke once more; watching as your head fell back, your eyes screwing shut and it satisfied him to see you feel the pleasure he was giving.

he was hard again, purely from his name sounding so fucking incredible as you moaned and moaned, from the perfection you were.

his hand grasping your cheek had your eyes flying open as lando tilted your head forwards to look at him, eyebrows raised in expectance.

“words pretty girl,” lando reminded, chin still between his thumb and index finger ━ struggling to focus on him with the numbing pleasure that was causing tears to form.

you nodded, before processing what he’d said. words. right.

“please lando,” you gasped; eyes pouring into his, pleading with his as your back arched and legs shook. you weren’t sure you’d be able to stop yourself. “gonna cum,” you whined.

lando felt it had been far too long to be cruel, so he simply hummed in appreciation; smiling lazily as he pushed you over the edge as he curled his fingers once more.

your vision went white, screaming his name as you came again, all over his fingers.

lando’s bottom lip rolled through his teeth at the sight, able to take in every moment, no restraint for either of you and it felt fucking amazing.

his hands gently moved your leg off his shoulder, stood between them as his hands massaged your thighs comfortingly, giving you a few moments to come down and catch your breath.

your eyes fluttered open, and immediately you were smiling stupidly at the sight of lando; his own grin mirroring yours as he hummed quietly.

“you’re so beautiful,” he whispered; unable to stop the compliment from escaping him, and your smile only grew; knowing you’d disagree if you caught sight of your tangled hair and flushed cheeks. 

it had your stomach flipping, men compliment you all the time. only lando would gain such a reaction.

“got another one in you?” his question was gentle; the sparkle in his eye daring, and you had no hesitation in nodding.

“need you inside me,” you mumbled, causing the driver’s smirk to return to its rightful place ━ glad your wants were shared.

you may have gone a long time without, but your stamina hadn’t faulted.

lando was tugging you to the edge of the counter at that, and you easily got lost in the kiss that he placed upon your lips; rough and messy as you melted into his hold.

it’d caught you by surprise, when he tugged you down onto your feet, spun your round and bent you over the marble surface; a gasp escaping you.

“missed you so much,” lando sighed; ushering your legs apart as your breath hitched in your throat. you didn’t know what to focus on, his words, your position or the feeling of his hands on your ass.

the confession wasn’t one you’d hold onto, you knew better than to cling to words uttered during sex. but god it felt great to hear.

“missed you too,” you assured him back, moan slipping past your lips as you felt his tip press against your folds; but he made no further movements.

your hips shook slightly, attempting to entice him ━ so needy despite having cum twice already. you just wanted him. all of him.

his hand moved up your back, tangling in your hair and creating a makeshift pony tail ━ one he tugged on immediately, your head snapping up.

“what did i say earlier? about using your words?” lando leant forward, lips grazing your ear; cock pressed against your entrance, causing you to cry out.

your body was overstimulated, tired; tired of his teasing. out of practice to predict his wants.

“want you to fuck me,” you whined quickly, rushing your words out as your hips pressed backwards. “need you lan, please,” you whimpered; sounding oh so desperate lando couldn’t possibly deny you.

he entered you without any more warning, bottoming out as your walls wrapped around him; your gasps intertwining as you gripped the counter below you.

the cool surface against your front did little to cool you down, moaning at the feeling of being so full. full of him again, after so long.

too long.

“always take me so well,” lando grunted in your ear; giving you a few moments to adjust before he was dropping your hair and standing up straight ━ hands finding your hips now.

his thrusts were harsh, rough and deep; not too slow or too fast, ensuring you felt every inch of him as your aching cunt squeezed him.

every move had your body jolting, moans escaping you; the counter and lando the only reason your legs were able to stay upright.

“so-so good,” you stumbled out, eyes rolling back as your body fell limp, unable to process the pleasure you were feeling. what you’d been deprived of and craving.

the driver too was losing himself in the feeling, head thrown back as he moved in and out of you ━ sounds of skin slapping filling up the large and empty space.

it was a mutual feeling, as to why the fuck this didn’t happen sooner. how on earth you two had been in such close proximity throughout the months and not gotten to this point yet.

safe to say keeping your distance now would be difficult.

lando felt the need to be closer, as if he needed more of you despite having you already at his mercy.

his hand found your neck with ease, wrapping around your throat and guiding your head up ━ causing you to stand up right, back against his chest.

he didn’t apply pressure, yet, but just the feeling of his large hand wrapped around the base of your neck had your legs feeling weaker; split open on his cock meaning lando’s body was the only thing holding you up now.

“feel good?” lando’s question was just him chasing praise, knowing you were fucked stupid; but he couldn’t help but want to remind you just who was the reason you could barely form sentences.

you nodded as much as you could in his hold. always nodding, he could ask or say anything and you’d find a way to say yes.

“only i can make you feel this good hm? only i can make you cum?” lando didn’t stop running his mouth, basking in the fact it was him that had the tears spilling out of your eyes. a sense of pride washing over him.

you choked out a yes, his thrusts having only gotten faster ━ and when his hand applied pressure to your neck you were almost certain you were in heaven.

“so perfect, so fucking perfect for me baby,” lando grunted in praise; and the kiss he pressed to your shoulder blade was a vast contrast to the treatment of your cunt.

it really was too much, the few tears and whimpers made that clear to lando; you were only moments away from cumming again and the thought alone had his own high dawning on him.

“come on angel, cum on my cock. cum for me,” he was speaking in your ear again; and you practically screamed as your third orgasm hit ━ body falling limp in his hold.

the way your walls squeezed him had him cumming with you, groaning as his forehead rested on your shoulder ━ erratic breaths filling the room as he stilled inside you.

all his touches were suddenly delicate, pulling out of you as he moved you to lean against the counter, still holding you up slightly as you caught your breath.

it was a comfortable silence, his hands ghosting over your waist as you pressed your eyes shut for a few moments.

you’d expected some sort of regret. an immediate now what? for one of you to panic or flee.

but instead, neither of you wanted the moment to end.

“want to join me for a shower?” lando broke the silence, a half smile that had you feeling an odd sense of relief.

one he felt too when you smiled right back, and nodded in agreement.

he’d chuckled, you would even go as far as to say he was grinning; hands grasping your thighs and picking you up with ease, carrying you off towards the bathroom.

when your friends returned you had been on the sofa, lando out by the pool ━ strategically placed to avoid suspicion, already under the assumption someone would’ve brought up the fact it happened to be you two who stayed back today.

chatter filled the room immediately, lando trudging in to greet everyone. you having stayed seated, purely because you didn’t trust your legs.

“burnt cookies y/n?” max had spoke across the room; having been first to stumble upon the overdone batch sat on the kitchen island you’d spent the last 15 minutes sanitising.

your cheeks flushed, purely because you could sense lando’s eyes burning into you.

you could picture the cocky smirk plastered on his face.

“yeah. my bad,” you laughed sheepishly.

and you were glad to be the only one paying attention when lando passed the back of the couch, finger grazing your shoulder as he did so.

“my bad,” he corrected; your eyes meeting his smug ones in passing.

━━

a/n: did y’all miss my shitty endings???

anyways idk what this is but here it is

unedited atm so apologies xox

as always appreciate feedback so so much, love u all and hope u enjoy 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

[puccbunni]

lolita ☆ cs55

genre: age gap (10 years), porn with plot, affairs, forbidden romance, angst, mentions of suicide, mentions of drugs, tragedy, erotic literature

word count: 14.9k

You were young, alluring, floating through a disastrous life with the touch of a thousand angels. Carlos was successful, irresistible and someone who often kept a distance from catastrophe. Never in a million years did he think he would have a complete moment of weakness…Especially the week of his wedding. 

nsfw warning under the cut!

18+... sexual tension, penetrative sex, dry humping, riding, size kink, oral sex (f and m receiving), semi - public sex, deepthroating, praise, fingering, handjobs, lots of dirty foreplay, slapping (like once AH), a bit of edging, overstimulation, a bit of crying, sucking on fingers, squirting - i should stop now, oh god.  

inspired by this and this !

STOP AND READ:

This by no means - in any shape or form - is something that should be admired or looked up to. It does deal with serious topics such as: grooming, suicide, and drugs. While the reader is of age (19), this is not my way of impulsing my own readers - especially younger ones, if by any chance they come across this - to follow this mindset. Dark themes will take place and if that is not something you are comfortable with, then that is okay, I definitely have more light hearted fics in my masterlist. “Love stories” aren’t always filled with flowers and rainbows, they can also be hurtful and confusing, often misunderstood. This is fictional. Given, this is inspired by Lolita and Blue Velvet by Lana Del Rey (*everyone cheers*) – what that means is that this story will not have a happy ending. Verses of Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov are also mentioned (extremely controversial book - as it should be).

cherry here!…hi, guys! i hope you all enjoy and i’m gonna do it now: I’M SORRY. 

She was as dangerous as poison could ever be - with no good intentions. She was malicious, sweet laughter that would make anyone fall in love. An Angel walking on Earth, curiously making it her playground. 

He was intelligent. A man of few words, but also simply so, the seven deadly sins all wrapped up in one. Keeping a distance from things he knew would bring him no good.

But in order to understand, we would have to take you back to where it all began. 

Where Paradise met Hell.

-

Growing up in Italy for some odd reason made you out to be the girl you were. Men there would throw themselves at any opportunity if they saw a single daisy looking girl in eyesight. At first it felt as if you were walking a tightrope; you knew it wouldn’t be the wisest idea to fall straight into their traps. Except, slowly, it made sense.

They knew how to sweet talk someone so young and naive - you’ll give them that. It only took one taste and that was the moment you knew. 

You liked them older.

Men fucked in a way boys never would. Every single one would always put your needs first - but there was this one man that had you realizing how fucked up you could be in order to get what you want. That’s one prize you’d cheat to win.

And that’s a story for later.

-

Moving away for college was the best decision you felt you would ever make in your entire life. Given, Italy was home, but the people in it weren’t. Often, you find yourself missing your rendezvous but studying abroad in Spain wasn’t much different.

Note; you didn’t grow up with a tight knit family. Your mother was a drug addict with half of her days knocked out on the couch, your father was someone who was occasionally in the picture. He tried his best.

And your older sister, Ollie? 

Well, you’d honestly forgotten you even had one. 

Some may say that you’re a whore, a slut, a homewrecker, or any other Spanish slur that spits Madrid, but you never cared. You were having fun and why were you the one always being blamed? Perhaps, men, too, should think with their heads rather than their dicks.

Which is how you find yourself still repeating the familiar pattern you had started a long time ago. Riding your professor shouldn’t feel this good. Mierda, he would groan as you bounce up and down like a bunny. Mewling, you shake the feeling of remorse. Not when he felt this good. 

Your phone ringing is what makes you stop, him still inside of you, twitching. Ciao? His calloused fingers would slide up to pinch your nipples as you lightly gasped. 

“Tesoro! Haven’t heard your voice in so long.”

Your father’s tone makes you wince at the reminder. Occasionally, he would check up on you in a way you would assume other fathers did for their daughters. You could never hate him, though. In his own way, deep down, he still cared.

“Papi, how are you?”

Sliding off of his lap, you zip your dress back on as you pace the lecture room. Bored, he takes out his secret whiskey from under his desk. Your sister is getting married in a few weeks! I was thinking you could fly back home so you could join us. The thought alone made your stomach churn as you bit down onto your thumb. Signaling at the older man, you click your fingers, hinting for a glass of your own. He obliges, handing it to you.

“I’m busy with summer courses. Maybe I can send a gift?”

You try everything in the book in order to get out of what seems like a crappy, dull, Italian wedding. It had been ages since you last stepped foot there. In no right mind would Ollie’s wedding be the one to change that. But he says things that get to you. I haven’t seen you in years. Neither has your sister. She misses you, you know?

You bite down on a snarky remark as you down the rest of the gold liquid. Last time you spoke, she promised that you were dead to her. That she never wanted to hear from you again. In the moment, it hurt, but you grew used to the idea. And what younger sister doesn’t pick up on what older sister says? Now, you despised her as much as she did you.

“Ovviamente. I’ll be there.”

-

It’s hot as soon as you land. That you didn’t miss. Ale, your fathers chauffeur, picks you up with a bright smile. Saddened, it dawns on you that you hadn’t seen one of those in ages. He’s nice. Let's you sit in the passenger's seat as he introduces himself. He mentions he has 5 granddaughters and has been married for almost 50 years. It’s sweet. Makes you feel human.

Pulling into the driveway, you almost want to correct him. This isn’t my fathers house. You must be mistaken. Only, he says he isn’t. That he had recently moved into his Italian mansion a year ago. You’re skeptical for a minute, but realize you can’t be one to tell. Years have passed; things change.

Still, that didn’t stop you from gawking at the ginormous house that sits on a hill; overlooking all of Tuscany. It even had a beautiful view of the ocean. Why couldn’t you grow up with this?

“I’ll inform your father that you have arrived safely.”

Taking it all in, you slowly pace the entrance, analyzing everything in sight. The crystals hanging from the chandelier, large - expensive - portraits, shiny mirrors. Quirking your head to the side, you glide over to the golden trophy sitting in the middle of the spacious entry.

Carlos Sainz Sr. : Rally Driver of-

“That belonged to my father. He passed away a year ago.”

Startled, you grip onto the trophy tighter as you slightly jump in panic. You curse yourself for being caught as you delicately place it back down before turning your attention to the booming voice.

Instantly, you’re hit with lust. Standing in front of you is a tall man - around his 20’s, perhaps - dark brown eyes narrowed down on you like knives. Messy, untamed, brown hair. Large nose, plump lips, dark brows. His figure is something you can’t wrap your head around that even exists. Richard Mille's watch clung onto his wrist. Giorgio Armani pressed up against his chest, it almost looked as if it didn’t fit due to his rippling muscles. Woody, rich, scent filling up the room. 

He was the most beautiful man you had ever laid eyes on. 

“I am so, so, sorry.”

Your voice is so soft, it has him intrigued. You wore a short pastel yellow dress that didn’t leave much to his imagination; paired with converse and tube socks. Rosy tint on your cheekbones from the humidity. Berry lips. Wide, innocent eyes. He’d be lying if he said you didn’t take his own breath away. Even though you stood far enough away, he could still smell your vanilla perfume. 

Inching closer, he waves you off. “I was kidding. My father is well and alive.” You tippy toe nervously before planting your feet back down. 

“That’s not a nice thing to say.”

And he’s surprised with your response. Yet, he finds himself extending his tan hand out to you. “I’m Carlos.”

Carlos. His name sounds as attractive as his appearance. Strong and sure. But also…dark. You shake his hand, legs quivering at his warm touch. Deep down, he knew how much he affected you - it’s something he’s grown quite accustomed to, having people admire his looks, but it took a lot to not show that you had the same effect on him.

“Nice to meet you, Carlos. Do you work for my father?”

Amused, he lets out a deep chuckle. Even a simple sound like that had you pressing your legs together, arousal dripping in between. 

“You don’t know who I am?” You shake your head, confused. Should you? He smiles. “That’s okay. We haven’t met before…Though you should get to know me since you’re already here…”

Wait.

“You know,” he leans his head a bit, floppy hair following, “Ollie.”

No, no, no.

“It’s so nice to finally meet my fiancée’s sister.”

Foolishly, you try your best to hide your surprise. How does a man like him end up with a bratty, narcissist, like your sister?

What was so fucking special about her?

Envy fills your veins as you try to show that this hasn’t phased you. Excited cheers echo down the hallway as your father runs over, embracing you into a warm hug. You’re here! Wincing, you lean into his touch, eyes still trained on the magnetic man. 

Only then, did Ollie fly down the stairs, immediately running into Carlos’ arms. Making a big deal out of it, she kisses him as she runs her hands against his chest. 

“Come here, tesoro. I’ll show you where you’ll be staying.”

The entire time; Carlos kept his eyes trained on you. 

-

It didn’t make sense. Part of you knows it never will. You’ve only just met him, but you can tell he must’ve been fucked in the head to willingly choose someone like Ollie. Sure, she seemed sweet and kind, but she was anything but that. 

Dinner that night is carbonara. Carlos is extremely talented. He cooked this just for you. Tight lipped, you thank him, looking down at your plate to avoid his burning gaze. 

“How’s school?”

Turning to your father, you remind yourself that you were here for him; because he wanted you there. That’s all that should matter. “Very good. Thank you for asking, papi.”

The sound of glass hitting the table erupts as Carlos hurriedly goes to pick it up, quickly murmuring a strong apology. His dark gaze shortly flickers past you. It leaves you squirming. 

Clearing his throat, he takes a sip of his wine. “Where do you study?” Spain, you tell him as he beams. “No way. I was born and raised in Madrid. Moved to Italy a few years ago for work.” Letting out a laugh, you find the coincidence funny. He moved from Spain to Italy and you moved from Italy to Spain. 

“What do you do for work?”

“He’s a Formula 1 driver. Drives for Scuderia Ferrari,” Ollie weasels in as she smirks down on you. Anger bubbles inside of her when your attention remains on the Spaniard. Drumming your fingers against the table, you lick your lips. Formula 1? He’s about to explain it all up until Ollie butts in once again. She rubs his hand, a glistening ring shining right in front of you. You physically have to force yourself to look away. “Oh, amor, she doesn’t know what that is. She’s too…young.” 

You know she’s trying to make a weak point: you’re only a baby, therefore, you don’t compare to her. And yes, you are young, 19, but it was stupid of her to think that it bothered you. You tsk before leaning back against your chair. 

“Of course, my mistake. I forgot I was still a pure flower instead of a wilting one.”

Ollie’s face switches to bright red as she grips onto his hand. An entertained smile slips onto his lips before flattening back out. He rubs her hand, trying to calm her down. You can’t stop the jealousy burning from within.

“I didn’t mean you, Mr. Sainz.”

The 29 year old brushed you as if nothing, a smile displayed. Eyeing you both, Ollie suddenly stands up, chair screeching. Why don’t you help me bring out the cookies I baked? Ever so gracefully, you nod. Following after her, you stop suddenly as she spins, hair slapping her face. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing here? Are you here to ruin my life with your existence?”

“I might.”

Her left eye twitches as she growls angrily. If she didn’t make it this easy to tick her off, then you’d be bored, but luckily for you, it was unchallenging to get under her skin. “This is my wedding; my future husband - so don’t fuck that up like everything else you’ve ever done.”

You try to pretend as if her words didn’t affect you as you stare back blankly. Marching over to the counter, she opens up a box of cookies before sliding them onto a polished dish, leaving you standing there alone.

-

You thank the higher Gods for not letting you cross roads with Ollie for the next few days. Though, you’re a bit bummed out that you haven’t seen Carlos much either. Peeking out the window, you could see the way a group of workers hurried to set up for the joint bachelorette taking place later that night, right on the beach. The waves look magnificent, so without a second thought, you slip on a bikini before rushing out the door with your necessities. 

Lathering a goop of coconut sunscreen, you hum softly to yourself. Weren’t you going out with your sister? Looking up, you see Carlos standing in front of you with his face slightly scrunched up from the bright sun. His cheeks looked as if they’d just been pinched. “Where to?”

He takes a seat next to you. “She said she was going out to go buy a few flowers for later. Said she would invite you.” You shake your head, already bored with the idea.

“You know her,” you tap your head, “Forgetful.”

He cocks his head to the side as he shuts his right eye for a moment. “You two don’t get along, do you?” You try making up a silly excuse. Of course we do. We’re sisters. But he’s looking right into your orbs as if he sees right past your weak attempts. “You’re right. I could be wrong.”

It stays quiet for a while - only the soft breeze being heard. You can see him from your peripheral vision; eyes shut as he takes in the moment of peace he hasn’t had since dawn. Long lashes fan his face, freckles scattered all over. 

“Aren’t you too busy to be talking to me?”

“No. Plus, I should take time to get to know my future sister-in-law. Especially since I don't know anything about her even after dating her sister for 7 years.”

7 years.

Squinting at the waves, you slide your sunglasses on. “There’s not much to know, but I can try. I’m 19 years old, studying abroad in Spain, and grew up in Italy. I love the ocean, love a nice cup of hot chocolate - even though I’m allergic - so I only allow myself small sips during the winter. I like to pretend I know how to dance and I kill it in karaoke.” He laughs. You can’t dance? “Unfortunately, I can’t. Once, during my friend's wedding reception, I twirled right into her cake. I spent the entire day on supervision.”

“Dios mío…Remind me to watch out for you on our wedding day.”

Our wedding day. His words slightly sting as you pinch your nose swiftly. Standing up, you brush beads of sand off your legs. Your eyes roam the area before you find your father waving you over. “I should go,” you say as you look down at him. His brown eyes scan you before nodding and standing up. He, too, looks over to where your father waits to introduce you to a group of businessmen. He frowns and that's when you realize just how revealing your bikini might have been, only it's too late now.

“Papi always taught us to greet our elders.”

He clenches his jaw, eyes closing for a second. When his gaze meets yours, you almost choke with how dark and twisted it’s become. “Aren’t you too old to be calling him that?” Confused, you tilt your head.

“Calling him wh- Papi?”

He grinds his teeth together - and then just like that - he’s smiling again. 

“Forget it. How would I know?”

-

Standing next to an empty table, you watch as Carlos and your sister dance along with everyone else. This party has allowed you to pick up on the fact that they seemed to be a much more important couple than you had anticipated. Everyone looked at the Spaniard as if he were a God himself - and being quite truthful - you would agree. There was nothing about him that wasn’t flawless. 

Then, Ollie, just looked like any other person. Her eyes were bright, but any time anyone would walk up to him, her stare would become threatening. As if she was his owner and no one else could get close enough to breathe the same air.

Everyone here was older; that much you could tell. Attendees were accompanied by girlfriends or fiancée’s of their own. It made you feel a bit childish, since you clearly were the youngest one there. Reaching out for your margarita, you twirl the straw.

“Not having fun?”

Your attention directs itself to a dirty, blondish, brunette. He looks a bit tipsy, face flushed as he smiles sweetly. He’s tall, handsome. But not as much as Carlos.

“Max,” he introduces himself. Politely, you shake his hand. He points to the large group that dances on the sand. He lets out a croaky laugh. “They could get a bit much sometimes.” You laugh, nodding along with him. He continues talking to you. Brings up how he knows Carlos from driving with him; except he’s signed to Red Bull.

“Everyone here is invited only if they're a driver, huh?” It’s a lame joke, but he laughs and throws his head back as if it were the most fascinating thing he’s heard all night. 

“It’s a small circle, but I promise, they're all nice lads.” Discreetly, he takes in your appearance. The way your black dress dances with the wind. Painted red nails glistening under the golden lights. 

You were beautiful. Tragically, beautiful.

“You know the groom or the bride?”

“Bride.”

He nods, taking a sip of the beer bottle he had been nursing. You both continue your conversation for a while longer. He’s Dutch. Recently 26. You mention your headache before he brushes his fingers against your hand. Looking down, he pulls away before clearing his throat. He apologizes and asks if you would like to dance. A soft melody now plays and you find yourself taking his hand. It's big as yours disappears into it.

Almost as if he’s shy, he carefully slides his hands down to your waist. You giggle as you throw yours over his shoulders. “I hope slowing down helps get rid of your migraine. Sucks. I get lots of those during race weekends.” 

“It is. Thank you for caring.”

He’s sweet. You can tell with the way he blushes when you mention the way you like his dimples. Slowly, you find yourself enjoying his company. You’re in the middle of laughing at some stupid joke he just told, when someone rudely clears their throat. Carlos’ smile appears bitter as he shakes his head.

“I’m sorry - I’ve probably killed the mood.”

“No problem, mate. We were just talking.”

He clicks his tongue before turning to you. Under his scrutiny, you feel as if you’ve just been caught smoking weed for the first time. Dazed, you hum, waiting for him to say something. You know it’s not your place to feel as if he owes you an apology, but you can’t help it. 

“Ollie said it’s best if you went to bed.” You let out a sarcastic laugh. Since when does she care if I get a good night's rest? He huffs before running a hand through his hair. “She - she…Just do as you’re told, please.”

Now you’re bothered. Up until that point, you were actually having a good time. Dumbfounded, you turn to Max as he smiles understandingly. Pursing your lips, you apologize. Tippy toeing, you lean up to press a kiss against his stubble. He smiles.

“See you around?”

“See you around, Maxie.”

Walking into the lonely house, you let out a sigh as you pour yourself a cup of water. The summer heat had completely dehydrated you. You could still hear the soft beat playing from outside as you sway in the kitchen. You were upset - angry - that your sister had cut your night short. And any other time you would have put up a good fight, but thought it’d be best to not make a fool out of yourself. Especially in front of people you barely knew.

The door sliding open has you alert as you look up. Carlos silently makes his way in as he groans with exhaustion. Loopy eyes match yours as he clears his throat awkwardly. “So…What were you talking about with Max?”

“Nothing that should concern you.”

His jaw clenches, a large hand running along it. Stepping closer, he takes your cup of water before chugging it down. It leaves you hot and bothered just how close he is. It’s a mixture of salt and musk, his scent. It makes your head spin. Lazily, he takes a step back before nodding.

“Right. Have a good night.”

-

Carlos knew he had messed up. He had no right lying and saying Ollie had ordered for you to go to bed. That was completely him. It’s just that - seeing you with Max, laughing, smiling, made him seethe - when he knows damn well that he shouldn’t. It wasn’t like he was your boyfriend, after all. 

So, he was embarrassed. He kept his distance. In his head it made sense. If you weren’t near then he wouldn’t feel the need to keep his eyes on you all the time. The house felt lonelier, colder without you sliding down the hallways. Rightfully so, you had spent your days locked up in your room. The only person that made happy was Ollie.

Either way, maybe it was for the best. He had a ton of shit to do. Starting with changing their honeymoon destination for what seemed like the millionth time that month. First, it was the Maldives, then Cancún - God - he knew that in a few hours his fiancée would come up with a new place. 

“I know, I know we said that, but it’s changed.” He paces the office, stressed. “Can you please just make it fucking happen?”

“Ouch.”

Turning his attention, he sees you peeking at the entrance, phone still pressed up against his ear. Pouting, you enter, sweet aroma filling the room. Excusing himself, he ends the call. “Need anything?” He honestly cared for your response. It had been days without seeing you and he was afraid he blew it before he even had a chance to marry your sister. He told himself it was only because he cared for your relationship with Ollie. But fuck that - he knew not even you both cared that much about each other.

Shaking your head, you walk closer. “You sounded mean. Not a nice look on you, Mr. Sainz.” You’re teasing. You had to be. 

“That wasn’t mean. It's called being straight forward.”

Ignoring him, you curiously eye the dark office. Books, trophies, helmets. Letting out a snort, you pick up the nearest picture frame. In it, it’s Carlos and Ollie, smiling wide. Tears brim her eyes as he looks down at her. The sight makes you want to puke. 

“When was this taken?”

“The day of our engagement.”

You hum, already setting it back down. You can’t help but picture the impossible. That in the picture it was you instead of her, that you wore that diamond ring, that he looked at you. 

Fuck her, honestly. 

“Why’d you propose?”

He’s thrown off by your question. He’s expecting you to bring up the fact that it was a joke, but when you looked back for a response, he found himself with a dry mouth. Because I love her?

“Jesus,” you shudder, taking a seat on top of his desk. His eyes wander down your tan legs as you rest them on top of his chair. You're playing mind games - he’s well aware -  and still he found himself following them. You were the worst temptation out there. It’s as if you knew the power you held. “I bet fucking her is a chore.”

Shocked at your words, he finds himself dumbstruck. He knew you two didn’t get along, but what the fuck happened for you to aim such insults? 

He knows Ollie. Sure, she was a bit much at times, but she was nice. She was pretty. There was no need for your vile words. 

You can tell he’s about to get defensive about her and that makes you shrink. Willing, you had handed him a reason to choose her over you. 

Looking back at the picture, you purse your lips. “Sorry. That wasn't the right thing to say.”

“You should leave.”

You’re embarrassed over him kicking you out, but you knew you had crossed the line. So much for a peaceful afternoon. You comply, jumping off the desk. Not before making your way over, pressing your soft lips against his neck, which was the only place you could reach, even after tippy toeing. You felt him get stiff. 

“Excuse my manners, Carlos.”

Skipping out the door, he’s left with a single thought. 

He’s fucked. 

-

The next morning, you’re forced to spend the day with your sister. Whether it was for running errands, fighting; it didn’t matter. As long as you made your father happy. All he wanted was for his girls to get along. 

“Go,” Ollie growls as she hands you your bridesmaid dress. Snatching it from her, you slowly climb up the stairs to your room. 

It’s a beautiful dress. Strong, dark, cherry red. Just like blood. It hugs your curves the way you’ve always thought all dresses should. For that reason, too, it made you look…older. Trying your best to get rid of the wrinkles, you smooth it down before making your way back. 

Papi loves it as he starts throwing out compliments. You look beautiful, tesoro! You are a true gem. His eyes are bright and proud as you stand there with a shy smile. And though you thanked him, nothing else mattered but the man right in front of you. 

The Spaniard had just gotten back from a meeting. He was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to eat and sleep the rest of the day, but as soon as he saw a balsé Ollie and an eager father-in-law, he was interested. She had told him to go relax; practically pushing him away. But as soon as you walked down those stairs, he swore his heart had never melted with such a sight. 

His eyes became fixated to the point of no return. You stand there like a divine temptress. A siren who was mixed with innocence. Enough to drool over, but also, to adore from afar. Someone he could worship. If God decided this were his last day on Earth, then he would happily follow, since he finally felt as if his life were complete. 

His big brown eyes are glued onto you as your father spins you. Ollie’s attention flickers between her younger sister and her fiancé. Tears fill up her eyes as she springs off the couch. You’re not bothered by it; don’t even bat an eye. That is until Carlos quickly runs off after her. That was a slap to the face as you show off a wounded smile to your father who stands there lost at the sudden commotion. 

Later on that day, you find yourself trying to forget it all with watered down tequila. That’s really all you could find in such short notice. Leaning against the balcony, you study the soft waves, cold wind causing your skin to flash small goosebumps. 

“Disgusting,” you mumble as you finish the rest of the alcoholic drink. Who knew a simple encounter would set you off?

“Woah there. Are you okay?”

Max cautiously steps closer as you shrug with a sigh. What was there to say? I’m a horrible person. I’m a horrible sister. And yes, we might not get along, but never in a million years did I think I would be falling in love with my future brother-in-law. 

“What are you doing up so late?”

Sheepishly, he raises his cigarette. Letting out a low hum, you raise a brow. “Can I have one?” He knows he shouldn't be the one to give a teenager a form of drug, but you looked so upset, so drained, that he felt as if you needed it. Lighting it up, you bring it up to your lips as you squint at him. He laughs. 

“First time?”

“No. It’s just been a while.”

You’re still not looking at him, but he notices the way you let out shaky breaths. The way you softly pinch your forearm. He frowns. 

“I know we only just met, but do you want to talk about it?”

And maybe it was the gist of the moment. Or that he was being sweet - showing that he cared, but it worked because next thing you knew, you were kissing. He lets out an erotic moan with the taste of your lips. All a mix of cigarettes and tequila. This is wrong. He was friends with Carlos and you were only doing this in a moment of weakness, but you just couldn’t stop. Neither could he. Not when you tasted like a thousand crimes. 

His large hands grab your ass as you gasp, brushing against his cock. He hissed as he pressed his lips much harder. Surely, you will have bruises tomorrow. Adrenaline rushes through your veins as you grind against him. Clumsily, you both make your way to the couch that’s nearby. Straddling him, you continue to dry humping. Slowly, but surely, the warm sensation between your legs starts to form. Panting, you pull away as he tries to angle his face closer to yours. You smile tauntingly. 

“You know what you remind me of?”

You hum, leisurely picking up your filthy actions. He bites back a smile as he grips harder onto your hips. 

“A Lolita.”

A menacing smile looks down at him before you kiss down his thick neck, soft bites being left behind. You can’t recall the moment you start bouncing on his cock, or when he sprawls you open like a map, kneeling down in front of you. It’s all a haze; a delicious one, too. You’re falling like a feather from your climax when you hear a thud. Did you hear that? No, he would mumble as he peppers kisses onto your soft skin. 

The tides are crashing harder now, signaling that the night was growing older. Timidly, you share a goodbye as you start to skip your way back into your room, but one last thing caught your attention.

A broken flower pot on its side and dirt trailing into the Italian home. 

-

More days had passed since your last encounter with the devilish Spaniard. If you were ever in the same room, he wouldn’t even glance at you. He would simply just walk past by. He was mad. Upset about something. You tried to think of what it might’ve been, but when he walked into his office with an infuriated expression, you decided it was time to call a truce. 

Knocking, you flinch at his sharp tone when he commands you away. Ignoring it, you still step in. Head thrown against his chair, man spreading, he has his eyes screwed shut.

“Are you okay?”

Your tone is sticky like honey. It annoys him the way it strings him in. Drumming his finger against the large chair, he angles his head to look at you. You’re almost scared to ask again, so you decide to stand still until he speaks up. 

“Why’d you do it?”

Puzzled, you purse your lips, waiting for further explanation. What was he talking about? Did you do something to make him upset? The thought alone made you feel queasy. When he notices you still don’t understand, he clicks his tongue. 

“Why would you fuck a friend of mine?”

Oh. Was it possible that this was something he was jealous of? Bewildered, you know you can’t deny it so you start to word-vomit. I am so sorry, Carlos. He came onto me that night - he kissed me first. I was confused. I was lured in by his words. I didn’t know what I was doing-

His eyes soften up as you try your best to break it down. But you were a liar; a good one. You knew damn well it was all you. You had kissed him first. You threw him under the bus and you knew that. Did he deserve it? No. Of course not. But you couldn't handle the Spaniard being mad at you.

He signals for you to get closer. Securely, he grasps your hand and hauls you onto his lap. It’s embarrassing how wet you’ve suddenly become; how your mind replicates a plate of jello. 

“I’m sorry he made you feel like that.”

His rough fingers slide up and down your arms and even that leaves you buzzing. Suddenly, you feel feeble. You assure him that you were fine - that it was no big deal. The way he looks at you is what gives you the confidence to lean in closer. A trace of panic slashes his face for a second. He should probably stop this before anything else happens. There was nothing okay about your ass pressed up against him. Or him craving to taste your plump lips. 

“He didn’t make me feel anything I haven't before.”

Your implication irks him far too much, he starts to consider this all an unhealthy encounter. He can’t stop the images of you being with other men. Someone else kissing you, pleasuring you. Whilst your words were suggestive, your features were anything but that. Wide eyes stare back at him, slightly crinkled. Moving your body, you scoot closer as if you weren't already. He growls as he pinches your hip. Then, you're kissing his neck, and he should be pushing you off, but he’s too far gone to pick up on how wrong this all was. I’m sorry I’ve upset you, Mr. Sainz. I didn’t think you would care who fucked me or not.

“I-I don’t. It’s just that you shouldn't be doing stuff like that. You’re too young for all that.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” You narrow your eyes. “I’m wiser than one might think. I’m mature enough to know who can and can’t fuck me the way I like.” Your gaze focuses extra hard with your confession. As if it were meant for him.

Pressing your ass one last time against his tight pants, you leap off, giggling. 

“Take care, Carlos.”

-

It's a business dinner, your father fills you in as you sit nearby, enjoying a bowl of ice cream, hairollers dangling around your head. Pouting, you reach up to clip one back into place. He smiles.

“You know, lots of young, talented guys are going to be here. It could be a great opportunity to meet someone.”

You make a face at his idea. “Yeah. No, thank you.” Marching over to him, you gently pat his cheek. “I’m not here to meet anyone.”

Signhing, he grabs your hands. “Can I ask you something?” 

“Sure.”

“Are you and Carlos…” Choking on your own saliva, you push away. What? No. Of course not! Why would you even think that? He lets out a breath of relief. “It’s nothing. Ollie just brought it up, but I told her you would never actually do something like that. I know my precious girl.”

The door creaks open as Satan herself walks in, followed by an Angel. First thing you noticed are their intertwined hands. Ollie tries to be coy as she flashes the action right in front of you. She mainly greets your father as she sticks by Carlos like a piece of gum. Hello, he would say to you as you bite back a smile.

“What are we talking about?”

“Your sister might have a boyfriend by the end of the night, that's what,” your father jokes as you slap his shoulder. Boyfriend? The Spaniard’s eyes burn you, subtle threat evident. Ollie fakes a smile as she tugs him back a bit.

“Wow. You know what? That might actually be a good idea. Could help with how uptight you are. But I’m confused, boyfriend as in Max?”

Fury fills you as you shoot daggers right at her. Ollie’s eyes twinkle with satisfaction. You’re dating Max? “Of course not, papi! Ollie is just being a bitch.”

“No, no, no - I don’t think telling the truth is being a bitch. You should be happy, baby sister! You sure sounded like it when you let him fuck you out in the balcony.”

Shocked at her words, you can’t bring yourself to look at your father who stands disappointed. Ollie, that's enough, Carlos warns as he squeezes her hand. She yanks it away, jewelry clinging against each other. 

“My bad. Shit, I forgot. I forgot no one knew what a slut you are. Opening your legs for any man around you. We’re lucky you’re not attracted to your own father.” She lets out a sour laugh. “Now, that would be fucked up.”

“That’s low, Ollie,” you spit, skin feeling as if it's on fire. You know where all this pent up anger is coming from, but she had no right to make up shit for fun. What kind of sister does that? Embarrassed, your eyes flicker to where Carlos stands with a hopeless expression. Licking your lips, you force yourself to walk away.

Slamming the door shut, you let out a loud scream. Why? Why was she always like this to you? A hard knock is what makes you wipe your tears away. Ollie slithers her way in. It hurt you how proud she looked. As if she had achieved something spectacular. 

“The fuck - Are you crying?”

“What do you want?”

She takes a seat on your desk as she dusts off imaginary lint. “I just want to talk. The way sisters do.”

Ricocheting off the bed, you march over to her as you glare. “Sisters? No. You’re nothing of mine.” Ollie yawns as she rubs her eyes. Then, she clears her throat.

“Do you want to know why I hate you? You’re so stupid you probably don’t even know, but don’t worry - that’s what older sisters are for. I’ll explain it to you. Do you remember, Romeo?”

You do. It hits you all at once; the memories of the first man you ever slept with. He was nice - kind enough to teach you what a man likes. He had jet black hair, a smirk always lingering on his lips. He was tall and a local from where you grew up. He was the perfect experience. 

But that still didn’t make any sense. What did he have to do with Ollie?

She lets out a wet laugh. Already, you can see her own tears as she tries to quickly wipe them away. 

“I loved you; I did. You were my sister before my enemy. But I also loved him. He was my first love. Promised me a home high up in the hills. But do you know what it feels like to see someone you love fuck your little sister against a wall?”

We probably shouldn’t-

Don’t worry. I’ve got you. No ones going to see us. Men love a good thrill.

“You and him…”

She licks her chapped lips. “We had barely started dating.” 

“I didn’t know - I swear to God, I didn’t know!”

If you had, you never would’ve looked his way. Ollie was everything to you growing up. You admired her. Loved her. That’s why it broke you when she started pushing you away as if you were some disease. Later, when your parents got a divorce, she didn’t second guess it when she made the decision to stay behind; causing you to leave with your mother. She never cared for you after that and you never knew why.

But now you did.

“I was young…Younger than I am now, how was I supposed to know?”

“Well, I’m glad we agree on something. You truly don’t know anything.” Strolling over to you, she smiles at your desperate state. “Which is why I’m not making the same mistake twice. Stay away from my husband.”

-

Ollie’s words felt as if they had opened up past scars. You meant what you said. Romeo would have been someone you would have disregarded if you had known the truth. But like always, you were the one with the entire blame and that you didn’t like.

Despite wearing a pretty dress - one that everyone gawked at you for - you felt ugly. Has it always been this way? Maybe it did make sense as to why she despised you. Playing with your bracelets, you try to pretend you’re interested in meeting your fathers investors. You feel completely exposed when they all stare straight at your chest area.

“How are we all doing?”

They all look up at the Spanirad as they start spitting out their congratulations for his upcoming wedding. He thanks them before checking up on you. His eyes connect with yours. Butterflies swirl inside your stomach as you smile weakly. He’s the first one to truly talk to you that night. To show he cares about your wellbeing rather than the way your dress fits you. Though, you looked stunning as always. Excusing yourself, you make your way into the kitchen, looking for something stronger.

Serving yourself a shot of vodka, you throw your head back, burning sensation sliding down your throat. Coughing, you grip onto the counter. Soft moans whisper in between the walls. You stop breathing for a minute as you try your best to identify where it might be coming from. Striding closer, you press your ear against the closet door. Fuck, a mans voice groans. This is not something you should intervene with, it's not your right, but that all changes when you hear a name that makes you burn all over again. So fucking tight, Ollie.

Pushing the door open, you see your sister banging one of your fathers investors. Ben, you think his name is. Honestly, you could care less. Briskly, she pushes her gown back down as he zips his pants. You let out a cold laugh as you clap in amusement.

“Oh, God. This is great. Amazing. You really outdid yourself, Ol.”

Stepping forwards, she grabs your arm harshly as she tugs you out. “How much did you see?”

You purse your lips as you theatrically scrunch your face up in pleasure. “Oh, Ben! Fuck me! Oh, oh, yes, baby, right there!” You bow. “That much.”

“How old are you, sweetheart?” The brunette says as he scans your body. Ollie glares at him as he steps back.

“Not a word of this to Carlos.”

“Why would I keep this a secret? He deserves to know. What do you think, Benny?”

Panicked, the older man shakes his head as his eyes plead for mercy. That’s enough. Raising your hands up in defense, you grin back at Ollie. “You’re not mentioning anything if you know what's good for you.”

“Oh, yeah?” You tilt your head back. “And what’s good for me?”

“If you tell him anything of what you just heard - saw - then I’ll just tell him how you’ve been bending over for every man in this house. Charles, Lando, Lewis, Pierre…you name it.”

“He won’t believe you…”

She laughs sinisterly. “No, I think he will. I mean…You’ve already done it before.”

“Hey,” his soft voice enters the room as you turn to look at him. The Spaniard’s eyes dance between you and your sister and Ben. “Is something wrong?”

Ollie shakes her head with a bright smile as she walks up and kisses him. You flinch. “Nothing, amor. We were just talking.” She runs her hands through his hair as his eyes remain on you. 

“Are you okay?” 

Nodding, you grind your teeth together. “Yes. Ollie was just introducing me to Ben.” Awkwardly, the man waves from behind you. Slowly, Carlos nods.

“Papi asked me to introduce them. You know - with the whole ‘boyfriend’ thing!”

“He was serious about tha- Oh. Okay.” He reaches down to take your sister's hand as he eyes you and Ben. “We should probably leave you two alone then.”

Hastily, you nod. “Sure.”

-

If you were willing to try and fix your relationship with Ollie before, then that was long gone. This is what you knew her for. A pretender. She wistfully makes everyone believe she’s some sort of saint, when really, she’s a wolf in sheep's clothing. She’s a hypocrite. She has a man that everyone desires and she does this? 

You hated her.

You hated seeing the way she beams when Carlos’ mother gives her a necklace that belonged to her own mother. She didn’t deserve it. Or the way his sisters helped her slip in and out of her dress, making sure it's perfect for the big day.

Still, you try your best to be a supportive sister. Especially around the woman who raised a man like Carlos. Biting down on your lip, you take a sip of your champagne as Ollie disappears behind the curtains with the lady who is taking some last minute measurements. Reyes smiles warmly.

“We didn’t know Ollie had a younger sister.”

You smile. “Best well kept secret, right?” The older lady laughs. Your heart warms up as you notice it's the same way Carlos does. Ana and Blanca grin.

“Well, we’re glad to finally get to know you. Might I add, you’re beautiful. Those eyes!”

“Thank you,” you blush.

Ana takes a sip of her drink before clicking her fingers. “That’s what you remind me of! You - Carlos - almost have the same puppy eyes!” She turns to her mother. “Mamá! What’s that saying? Soulmates look alike…Something like that, no?”

“Be quiet, Ani,” Blanca hisses before smiling apologetically. “Excuse her - she can be a bit invasive.”

“No problem,” you reassure as you bite back a smile. Ana frowns.

“Lo siento, I don’t mean to come off as overbearing. It’s just that you do…”

Reyes clears her throat as she winks over at her daughter. “Don’t misunderstand us, please. We love Ollie, we do! It’s just…you’re different.” She examines you. “I like you.”

Their words stick with you like a post it. Do soulmates look alike? Playing with the sand, you circle your finger agonizingly slow. Why did their words matter so much to you?

“I always find you alone.”

You stick your tongue out at Carlos as he chuckles at your childish behavior. You pat the sand, inviting him to join you. What are you doing out here? You point at the ocean. “I told you it was my favorite place.” 

“Ah. I see.” 

You sneak in a quick look before looking straight ahead. “Nervous?”

“About?”

“Marrying a monster.”

He gives you a deadpan look, bumping his shoulder to yours. “She’s not that bad, you know.” He glances at you. “Ollie has been there for me through so much. Through my failures. Through my accomplishments. She’s the one who convinced me not to quit racing.”

“You were thinking of quitting?”

He nods. “It’s not as easy as it looks. It fucks you up mentally. But she…” He smiles. “She helped me overcome that. I thank her everyday for it.”

It’s a bittersweet feeling hearing him talk about her like that. On one hand, you’re thankful that she had made him realize that he should carry on doing what he loved. On the other, you knew her true reasons. She loved having a famous fiancé; someone she can brag out to the rest of the world.

Somewhere, far away, you hear a melody. It’s low enough that if you didn’t pay close attention, you wouldn’t catch on to it, but you did. You grab his hand, leading him to stand up. He quirks a full brow. 

“Want to dance?”

“I thought you said you didn’t know how to.”

“Nice memory, old man.” You gently kick some sand towards him. “But I feel like dancing. Plus, you should be practicing.”

Tugging you closer, he hums. “Alright. Only because that's true.”

His hands feel warm against you - so much so - it feels as if he’s on fire. An ease comes to it, too, as you both sway under the moonlight. You giggle when he spins you, dress flying around you like petals. The way you grin makes his heart speed up in a way he’s never felt before. It’s alarming. He pinches your hip as you yelp.

“Mentirosa.”

“Wha- No, I’m not! Can’t dance to save my life.” Clumsily, you dig your toes into the sand. He winces playfully. 

The air grows heavy the moment he brushes your hair behind your ear. Your eyes flutter shut as you lean against his warm hand. One look, and he’s hooked. It’s meant to be something lighthearted, but the way he wishes to feel your soft lips against his indicates that it’s not. He’s tried his best to see you for what you are; his fiancée’s little sister. Someone he shouldn’t find himself caring if they slept well, ate their three meals a day, or that they didn’t talk to any other man that wasn’t him or your father. This was sick and twisted and yet…

His lips meet yours as your eyes spring open for a nanosecond before letting yourself go under. It feels as if you’re exploding like firecrackers on a Fourth of July. Something about the way he cradles your face endearingly has your head spinning. Knees become weak, but his grip is secure. It’s better than you could have ever imagined. His tongue fights for dominance and when you don’t give it to him, he squeezes your ass. Moaning, you open your mouth and that's all it took. He kisses you the way you’ve seen in movies - only better. He’s hungry - desperate - for you as you smile against him. Biting down on his bottom lip, he groans as he kisses you harder than before. You were beginning to think your lips were about to snap. 

Letting go, he stands there, staggered. He’s ashamed when he realizes that he regrets nothing. You both stay quiet; only waves crashing and heavy pants being heard. At first you think he’s going to apologize, and maybe that might have been the case, but no words would come out. Pressing a peck against his swollen lips, you smile.

“Goodnight, Carlos.”

-

Carlos rues the day that he kissed you because that only made things more complicated. He couldn’t find a way to not look for you when he walks into the garden, full of family and friends. Or the way he would want to punch Max when he made you laugh. But there is also something sweet. Like the way you would gossip with his sisters and share stories with his parents. He had never seen them laugh and smile so much, not even with Ollie. 

He flinches at the cold hand that wraps around his own. Faking a smile, he presses a soft kiss on top of his fiancée’s head. Continuing the clicking against her glass, she smiles widely. 

“Grazie a tutti per esservi uniti a noi!”

Everyone claps and a few of the drivers whistle. Rolling your eyes, you lean your head against your father’s shoulder. His heart skips a beat. Ollie continued her speech filled with thank you’s, thank you’s and more thank you’s. Your father kissed your cheek before making his way up to his eldest. Taking the microphone from Ollie, he starts to share warm felt memories about her. You have to admit, you’re jealous about their bond. Somewhere in the past, that had been viciously stolen from you. He notices the way you shrink with sadness and he finds himself about to walk over to you when Ollie laughs awkwardly. Amor. It’s your turn.

“Right.” Fixing his rolled up sleeves, he smiles at the crowd of guests. “Uh…Well like my fiancée said, we’re extremely happy to have you all here. It takes a lot to get this many people out here all at once.” A few laughs echo as he continues. “This means a lot to me, too, to have my friends and family. To have met new faces.” His gaze flickers past you as your breath hitches. “Many ask me what about Ollie made me fall in love with her…And I’m here to be as brutally honest as I could get. I love the way she makes me feel as crazy as the ocean. I could spend calm days with her and not worry about getting bored. Or I could find myself getting into trouble. Ollie has made me a better man. Because of her I know what true love is…” His loopy eyes meet yours. “True love are the waves that meet the shore.” 

He lets out a sheepish smile. I want love like that, Lando yells out as he downs his glass of milk. Everyone claps and cheers and that’s where your nightmare begins. 

Let’s give it up for the happy couple! Kiss, kiss, kiss!

The chants continue as Carlos let out a nervous laugh. That’s something private between me and her, he tries but finds himself being booed. Leaning down, he pulls Ollie in for a peck before pulling away with a tight lipped smile. He hates himself for his sudden realization.

Kissing her suddenly did feel like a chore.

With all the whoops and whistles being thrown out by friends, he finds himself trying to find you. It doesn’t take long as he notices you had picked up on your conversation with the Dutchman. His jaw clenches. 

“Maybe Ollie’s younger sister would like to share a few words.”

Why would he say that? Frozen, you choke mid sip. Me? Your father beams as he nods excitedly. Oh! That’s such a great idea! Unfamiliar faces turn to look at you as they wait. Taking in a deep breath, you nod as you make your way over.

As he hands you the microphone, he can’t stop himself from grazing his fingers against your hand. Coughing, you yank it fast. 

“Ciao a tutti.” Everyone greets you back as you lick your lips. You take a moment to figure out what to say, but there’s not much. Cringing, you try to come up with anything. “As some may know, I’m Ollie’s sister…And I could go on forever about how great she is-” You suppress a sarcastic laugh as Carlos knowingly winks. Your nerves ease up. “But I think I should talk about the man who makes my sister the happiest. Carlos Sainz…When I first met you, you seemed uptight - more than the Grinch - but slowly I got to know the man that even my papi swoons over.” 

True, your father laughs. “You’re kind, respectful, and charming…Ollie is one very lucky girl. But there’s something also sensitive inside of you…Despite the permanent frown on your face, you still seem to like days by the ocean. Maybe it's a reminder that peace still exists or maybe it's the way…” Looking up, you see everyone staring deeply. Suddenly, you feel like this might be oversharing as you twirl your dress. “...Or maybe it's the way your face lights up when you take my sister dancing on the sand. Uh…Thank you for making her happy.” Handing the mic back to Carlos, you smile weakly at the strong claps. 

“That was quite sentimental,” Max points out as you bite down on your finger. Was it too much? He shakes his head. “Don’t worry. It looks like you and Carlos get along well enough. I, for sure, thought he hated you with the way he looks at you.”

“Oh. Yeah.” You pause. “I thought so, too.”

-

Aside from the fact that the wedding was approaching quickly, the mansion was quiet. The silence can almost be heard; it's scary. Carefully, you fix your dress as you skip down the stairs barefoot, lollipop painting your lips red. 

Peeking around the corner, giddiness fills your body as you snatch a handful of pre-washed cherries. Earlier that day, your father had scolded you for finishing the new batch. Popping them into your mouth, you hum a song as you kick your legs against the kitchen counter. It creeps you out the moment a chill runs down your spine. As if someone were watching.

“Boo!”

“Santa mierda,” you yelp as you clutch your heart. Laughing loudly, the Spaniard bends over as he gasps for air. You pout and kick his knee. “Cabrón, you scared me! Warn a girl!”

“Fuck - I’m sorry.” His lips form a thin line as he stands firm. Slowly, the corners lift up, wobbly at his poor attempt to not burst out laughing. You frown.

“You’re fucked up.”

Again, his laughs echo the dimly lit kitchen. “Can I have some?”

“No. They’re mine. Grab your own.”

He narrows his eyes. “Aren’t you on cherry prohibition or something like that?” You gasp as you look around before flipping him off.

“Keep your voice low or papi will disown me!”

He zips his lips as he whispers. “I won’t tell a soul. But I want one of those in exchange.”

Tapping your finger against your lip, you pretend to think about it before nodding. You extend your hand out, a single red cherry for him. You’re waiting for him to take it and leave to where he came from, but what he does instead has you swallowing a lump down your throat.

Crouching down, he opens his mouth as he picks up the cherry, lips slightly wrapping around your fingers. This was triggering you as you tried your best to keep sane. But there was no way of going about that when he looked up at you with deep, brown eyes. Licking the red juice sliding down your hands, he steps back. He licks his lips before swallowing. It amazes you the way his Adam’s Apple jumps up and down; thick neck begging to be sucked on.

“Fucking delicious.”

Blinking, you look down at the rest of the cherries in hand. All of a sudden they seemed like a sultry fruit rather than a drupe. 

“Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Of cours-s-e.”

Stupefied, you throw the leftovers straight into the trash bin. You had no clue what made you do that. A small chuckle escapes past his lips as you shut your eyes in embarrassment. Maybe they weren’t as sweet as you made them seem. Too mortified to speak, you keep your eyes focused on the way your feet hit the wood as a distraction. It takes all of you to not run away as he steps closer once again.

“Is there something in that dirty little mind of yours?”

The room feels hot all of a sudden as you shake your head. There’s no words in your vocabulary when he stands this close. You can smell his cologne mixed with shampoo. If richness were a scent then this would definitely be it. His hands cage you in like a butterfly behind glass. Clicking his tongue, he steps aside as you let out a shaky breath. Taking the opportunity, you jump off the edge, bare feet slapping against the cold tiles. Cuidado, he mutters when you almost slip from the sudden action. 

“If you need anything I’ll be upstairs.”

Not sure why you said that, but it seemed like a rationalized excuse. Por supuesto. And that would have been the end of your night. That would have been another successful day of not falling for the forbidden apple. You had held out for so long; the kiss didn’t count. But it only takes a few steps for him to clear his throat. Almost as if this were your secret language, you spin and you find him staring after you; dazzling eyes following your every movement as if he’s trying his best to decipher anything you do.

Smiling wide enough for your eyes to look as if they had a smile of their own, you think - fuck the consequences - as you clumsily run up to him; jumping like a kid onto a tree. Legs wrap around his torso and his hands hold you close to him.

“Do you-”

“Yes,” he whispers. “Since the first day you walked through those doors: yes.”

If you had thought you were obsessed with his kisses before, you were wrong. So very wrong. Because now you were addicted. He kisses you with urgency as you run your hands through his locks, so soft against your fingers. He grunts when you tug on it. 

His kisses were stimulating enough for you to plead for something. Anything. Smirking, he pecks your nose before leading you both upstairs. It amazed you how he could continue kissing you as he hurried to get to the bedroom. Noticing him making his way into his and Ollie’s, you pull away. There’s no way you would let him do that. You spin your finger lazily through his hair.

“How about mine?”

He doesn't care if he fucked you against the floor, he needed you. Kicking the door shut, he throws you onto your bed as you squeal. He smiles fondly as you brush your hair out of your face. He’s had his fair share of girls. Models, nepo-babies, Ollie, but none of them compare to you. 

He was almost scared of touching you again, even though that’s exactly what he wanted. Doe eyes stare back at him as his cock gets harder at the sight. Ollie had always tried her best to look at him that way, but you didn’t even have to try. It naturally happened. Nothing about this felt forced.

You look untouchable. Like a complete goddess waiting to be ruined. Carlos, you would say as you squeeze your tits, eyes struggling to stay open. Carlos, please. Don’t be mean. Towering over you, he shakes his head.

“Linda, I could never be mean to you.”

Slipping your dress off, he groans when he sees you weren’t wearing anything underneath. He shuts his eyes as he tries to not finish inside his pants, which by the way, were starting to hurt. He pinches your nipple before slapping your tits. You hiss. 

“Please tell me you did this for me and no one else…”

“You know it’s always been for you.”

With that, he stands up as he yanks his shirt off; jeans and boxers following right after. A bit worried, you find yourself staring at his rock hard dick. You had never been with some as big as him; it kind of looked as if it would split you right open. That didn’t stop you from wanting it, though.

“Don’t worry. I’ll prepare you nice and good, cariño.”

His lustful tone snaps you out of it as you nod. His fingers rub your wet folds as you cling onto his bicep. C-Carlos. “I know, baby, I know,” he coos as he focuses on the way your face pinches. He slowly starts slipping his finger in as you gasp at the thickness. So big and long. He chuckles. “Oh, come on now. It’s not even fully inside of you yet.”

Stunned, you look down and sure enough, it isn’t. You almost cry out when you notice it’s barely even the tip. “I don’t think it’s going to fit.” He kisses your temple as he slips his finger back out. 

“Let’s start off with something else then.”

You almost pass out when he angles himself in front of your pussy. Glistening clit stares back at him as he moans. So pretty, he thinks as he touches you slowly. He stops himself, though, as he goes in for kitten licks instead. You squirm. His large hands pushed you down against the bed, to keep you in place. 

“Do you want me to make the ache in between your legs go away?”

“Yes.”

His pink tongue teases you as he hums. You bite down sharply. “You’re going to have to stay still. Relax, bonita.” Following instructions, you close your eyes, trying your best to not think of the handsome Spaniard. As if that were possible. Impressed, he leans in again as he licks you, picking up your pre-cum. Oh, fuck. 

Then it’s almost as if Carlos is taken over by something as he dives in like some animal. His stubble burns your legs, but you’re too fucked out to even care. You’re sure you're being loud, but how can you not be when he licks and sticks his tongue inside of you, exploring places you never knew existed. You choke back a moan when he rubs his nose against your clit, only adding to the euphoria. 

“Yes. Oh. Fuck, yes.” Looking down at the brunette, you find him taking in your appearance as he rubs himself against the sheets; a way to try and pleasure himself. And that’s enough for you to cum all over his face. He smiles as he greedily tries to drink up everything you give him. He knows he lost control, but he loves the way you were able to keep up. To take everything he gave you.

And that was only going to multiply.

“You taste so fucking sweet,” he groans in between your legs, picking up the white nectar. Crying out, you push his face away as you gasp for air. He sucks your tits as you take a break. His tongue swirls around your bud as you wiggle against him like a fish that jumped out onto land. He laughs. “Can you handle my fingers, now?”

No, you whisper as you push him away. But he knows you’re giving up too soon. He knows there’s an animal inside of you and he’s just waiting for it to decide to join him. He ignores you as he slides his fingers down to your center. You mewl against him. “Hey, hey, I got you, cariño. I’m right here.” 

His voice makes you clench harder against his fingers as he grins like a kid at a candy store. Slowly, you start dripping more than before, making it easier for his fingers to slide in and out of your hole. Can you handle a third? “Yes,” you respond, eyes still screwed shut. Hot air hits your ear.

“There she is…Good girl. Justo asi.”

Picking up speed, his fingers reach the gummy part inside of you as you scratch his arms in an attempt to remind yourself to not black out. His long fingers cross, doing figure 8’s as he touches your g-spot as if he knows your entire body better than any map. Leaning up, he bites down onto your nipple before sucking hard. You should be embarrassed with the way you squeal and shake against his actions, but he just made it so hard not to. Much to your surprise, if you dare believe it, he does the thing you last expected.

He adds a fourth digit.

“No, no, no,” you pathetically chant as your eyes fly open. He cocks his head to he side as he clicks in tongue as if seeing you struggle filled him with pride. 

“Ah, ah, ah. Just trust me; do you trust me?”

He didn’t need to ask because he knew you did. I do, you whimper out as you start grinding against his fingers. Amazement fills his dark eyes as he looks down to where you clench around him, juices sliding down his arm. It only takes a couple of more swirls before your shriek, velvety walls clenching around him as you reach your climax. 

Bringing his fingers up to his mouth, he licks your cum as if it were a meal he’s dreamed of having his entire life. Your mouth hangs open as you watch him lick them clean. You’re sure he’s going to fuck you now, but that flies out the window as he lays down as he drags you onto his face.

This man had stamina. Lots of it. You're trying to beg for a break of some sort. I can suck your dick. Give you a handjob. Just please let me rest. But he wasn’t even listening. 

Maybe somewhere deep down, he knew this would be the only night he would have you to himself and if that meant no pauses, then he would push all your buttons.

Like a starved man, he starts licking you all over as you grind against his face. The way he sucks on your clit and adds his fingers make you squeal as you push down harder. His nose rubs against you in such a way, it has you seeing stars. He seems to be enjoying that though, as his moans vibrate against you. Biting hard onto your lip, you try to distract yourself as you reach behind you for his rock hard cock. The moment your small hand wraps around him, he growls like a lion.

Smug over his reaction, your hand slowly starts jerking him off as he eats you out with more urgency. It takes all of you to control your actions as he shakes his face in between your legs. S-slow down, Carlos. He grunts as his actions speed up, but so does your hand. Gripping onto his erection much harder, you furrow your brows as you twist your wrist. Choking on your juices, he opens his eyes wide, whimpers flying past his lips.

Smiling down like the devil, you nod as your hand picks up its pace. Now it's his turn to be groaning with pleasure. He seems to have forgotten what he was doing as he takes in strong whiffs of your aroma. You shudder when his warm breaths escape to warm up your dripping pussy.

His cock twitches and he seems to snap right back into it; already diving back into your hole. Lurching forward, you grip onto his hair as the other remains wrapped around him. It’s a game to see who can make the other cum first, and you were not about to be the loser. 

Lively, you circle your thumb around his pink tip as he groans and finishes all around your hand. Sucking hard, he bites gently onto your clit as you screech and trap his head between your thighs. Shaking, you twitch against him as you reach your third orgasm that night. Huffing, you roll off him as he laps his tongue.

The way he looks at you makes you want to ride his face all over again, but you know you needed a break if you didn’t want the night to end so soon. Kneeling in front of him, you raise your ass up high as you lean down to wrap your lips around his cock. He flinches, slightly sensitive, but doesn’t dare push you away. Instead, he rubs your face with his calloused thumb; encouraging you. There's something so hot about the way your lips stretch around his fat cock. The way drool exits your mouth, messy blots of mascaras on the corners of your eyes.

Light of my life. Fire of my loins.

Gagging around him, you squeeze your eyes shut, feet curling up along the way. For sure, your throat would be bruised tomorrow, but you didn’t mind. In fact, you wanted that. Deepthroating him as best as you can, your small hands wrap around the rest of his length. He was huge. Dirty slurps bounce off the walls. You try your best to not pull away when you feel his sticky pre-cum connect inside your throat. Not when he looked so good with his head thrown back. His thick neck is a clear display. With his large hands wrapped around your hair as he fucks your face like theres no tomorrow. Spanish curses flowing past his lips. 

“Que linda. Arrodillada como una santa.”

When you giggle around his erection, he groans, head thudding against the headboard. His mind quickly slips over to Ollie - but not in the way one might expect. It hits him like a truck when he compares her to you. With Ollie, she would last at least 20 minutes before calling it a night. He pretended not to mind - he would never force her to do something she doesn’t want to, of course - but once she would knock out, his large hand would slide down past his boxers, looking for a new release. 

Then there’s you, ever so pretty. It seems like with everything you do, you want more. You sucking him off as if you’ve done this for him a lifetime ago. Sure, you’re struggling, but that only makes him harder. You’re trying to keep up with him and it’s working. Now, it’s like he’s the one trying to keep up. Swallowing, your throat closes around him as he flies forward, voice cracking as he presses for more. 

Glossy eyes look back up at him as you repeat your action. With one last blow, he pulls out as he cums all over your face. His dick immediately gets hard again when you smile wide, fingers going to pick up his mess. Greedily, you pout as you wrap your lips around your finger like the lollipop you had been sucking on a few hours ago.

“Fuck,” he mumbles, abs contracting together as he tries his best to even out his breaths. 

“Will you fuck me now?” 

You’re moving at a snail's pace as you lick his sweaty neck. A chill runs down his spine with the feeling of your warm tongue. Grinding slowly against his thigh, you throw your head back with pleasure, wet lips rubbing against him. He smiles.

“You’re a dirty girl, you know that?”

“I thought that’s what you liked about me, papi.”

In a flash, he flips you onto your back as he hovers over you like a giant. A beautiful, beautiful, giant. His large muscles he works so hard for stare back at you as you admire with an open mouth. It looks as if he could carry mountains on his shoulders. Dilated pupils admire you as you let out a pathetic whimper. Long gone were his brown eyes as they now appear completely black. Sensual.

“Then you should be fucked as such.”

With that, he swings your tan legs over his broad shoulders, practically bending you like a pretzel. You pat yourself on the back for all those pilate classes. Jerking himself off a bit, he looks straight at you, making sure this was something you wanted. The way you bat your cartoon eyes is all he needs to slip inside of you.

First thing he notices is how tight you are despite him already stretching you out to perfection. Raw moans leave both your lips as you try your best to adjust to his size. You had been with men before - that’s all you really knew - but no one’s cock had ever made you burn with such satisfaction. More than satisfaction. He’s reassuring you with his words in order for you to relax.

I’ve got you, preciosa. Just let go for me. I’m right here.

Still, you can’t help but squirm underneath him. His fingers make their way to your mouth as you stare back confused. Suck, he commands before forcing them in. Caught off guard, you gag around them for a bit before your tongue begins to twirl around them. Your cheeks burn up as you hear your low mewls. Ah- ah- ah, you cry out against his digits as he grins down at you. Retracting them, he slides them down to your clit as he starts rubbing small circles.

“Oh God.”

Instantly, you open up against his tired cock as he hums. There you go, he praises as you make it easier for him to thrust into you. You should both be ashamed of the way gushy sounds bloom from your mixed cum. Or the way he pounds into you so hard and fast that it has you sliding further back against the bed, hair tangling along the way. His fingers dig into your calves as he holds them in place.

“Mierda,” he wheezes as he throws his head back, ripping his eyes away from the way your puffy clit envelopes around him. Pants and whimpers escape you as you arch your back from the fulfillment. 

Carlos is a man - you know that - but in this moment; right now: he’s proving it the way a scientist would their hypothesis. His cock brushes against your g-spot as you gasp at the sensation. He’s looking at you as if you held the key to all secrets. 

The keys for the gate to Heaven.

Though he knows that this all feels like Heaven, he deserves nothing but Hell for cheating on Ollie. But that’s the least of his worries.

“Does that feel good, bonita?” 

Wide eyes look up at him desperately as you nod to the point where your neck starts to ache. Yes - Oh God, yes. So good, Carlitos. Yeah, baby - right there. Snapping his hips harder against you, your mind goes foggy with the way his hair flops around him. Sweat causing long strands to stick to his face. Beads of sweat drip down your legs as he presses sloppy kisses. His cheeks look as if he’s been out in the sun for hours. 

In this moment; he looked immortal.

“Carlos, I’m gonna-”

“Hold it.”

Like a doll, you flop back against the bed as you start to leak acid. No - please. Don’t ask me to do that. Feeling a sharp sting, you gasp. His hands dives back in to massage your cheek after slapping you. He cocks his head with fake sympathy. “I know you can do it,” - thrust - “Wait for me, yeah?”

You have no word as you wail - tits bouncing with every assault from his hip. Your stomach burns with the way his abs glisten, with the way his bottom lip juts out, or the way his muscles shine with a layer of sweat as they hug your legs like a teddy bear. 

He was yours. In this moment, he was yours.

“Alright, linda-” He brushes your hair out of your face as he wipes your sweat with his hand. “Cum for me?”

It’s an out of body experience the moment you squirt around his dick - the way your tummy feels like it's on fire. Sore groans leave his lips as he finishes inside of you, brown eyes trained on the way you gush around him. He freezes in place at the feeling. You squirm for a few seconds below falling limp against the bed. The room smells like nothing but filthy sex. 

Pulling out of you, he carefully places your legs back down before kissing your ribs. Then your bruised tits. Then your cheeks, forehead, and lastly, your lips that taste like home. Sighing against him, you try your best to remember the way he kisses you as if you're the only form of oxygen that exists. As if this were a dystopian world and you were the only source of survival.

He pecks your lips once more before brushing his fingers against your temple. “Get some sleep.” Yawning, you nod as your eyes flutter like a butterfly's wings. Will you stay? And he doesn’t know what takes over him when he says-

“I will.”

-

When you wake up you notice it’s still dark out. The moon shines, eyes flickering around, looking for the Spaniard. You let out a low breath of relief when you see him sitting on the edge of the bed. 

“Ollie,” he whispers into the phone as he runs a hand against his jaw. “...I made a mistake.”

Your heart stops with his words. He makes sure to speak low, thinking you're sound asleep. She - I - it was a mistake. She’s just a kid…Fuck. She’s just a child. Your heart shatters with the evident blame in his voice. You weren’t a kid. Sniffling, you stop breathing when you realize you’re crying. He pauses for a moment before standing up and making sure you’re okay. Bringing the phone up against his ear, he shakes, already walking out the door.

“Where are you? Let me just see you, amor. I’ll explain it all.”

-

There’s a saying that goes: You know, a heart can be broken, but it keeps on beating, just the same.

You would personally like to punch that person in the face. It’s not true. It doesn’t beat the same - because then why does it hurt everytime it pounds against your chest? Why is it hard to breath when the priest says-

“You may now kiss the bride!”

Everyone’s faces are blurry; cheers sound far away. You can’t be too sure you're standing upright as your father beams at the sight of Ollie pressing her lips up against Carlos. The way his hands slide down to her waist as shows her off proudly like some champion ring is what hurts the most. You feel flames all over your skin, letting out a flinch when your fathers signals for you to clap, too.

You don’t know what happened after that night. Whether Ollie forgave him or not - though clearly she had. Maybe she didn’t know about you the same way he didn’t know about Ben. This was all starting to feel like some nightmare. But it’s very much real life with the way the newlyweds hold hands, smiling brightly as guests throw a mixture of confetti and baby breath.

“Nice ceremony.”

“What? Oh.” You shrug towards Max as he points over at the couple. “Y-yeah. It was…”

He goes over his next words for a moment because Lord knows that if he has it all wrong then he would appear to be the biggest jerk to ever exist. “You fell in love with him, didn’t you?”

“I-I-I’m not sure I understand,” you trample over your words as your cheeks burn the same color of your red dress. He shares a small smile.

“It’s okay. I won’t tell anyone.”

Walking away, you’re left alone, second guessing everything. The violin seemed too happy. The guests seemed too bright. All of this was fake, couldn’t they see? Pursing your lips, you try your best to hide your broken heart as you catch up with old friends. How is college? How does it feel like having a brother-in-law who drives for Formula 1? Must feel pretty great, right? 

The night is boring. Half of it you spend faking smiles and the other you spend trying to avoid the Spaniard. Life was better back in Spain, where ironically, he was never around despite it being his home country. You’re in the middle of conversing with the Dutchman - who quite frankly is an honest listener - when Ollie walks up looking like a ball of whipped cream. Can I talk to my sister alone, please? Max’s concerned eyes ask if you’re okay with that as you nod. Slumping away, he squeezes your knee one last time.

Blue Velvet plays as she fixes herself onto the stool right next to you. “Have you tried the cocktails? They have cherry flavored; your favorite.” Something about her sweet voice makes you unsteady as you raise a brow. She shows off her veneers. “This is weird. Sorry. I’m just so…happy.” 

“Good to know.”

“But enough about me!” She places her left hand over yours, shiny rock sitting perfectly. You wince. “I want to talk about you! How’s school?”

“Like you care.”

She pouts. “I do now…” You furrow your brows. What do you mean now? She gasps. “Oh, you poor thing! You don’t know I know!” Your stomach drops. “Well, you know, as your older sister, I’m also your guardian since our mother is too fucked up to look after you…And a little birdie filled me in on your reputation back in Spain.” She giggles as she takes a sip of your drink. “Doesn’t surprise me, though. It only makes sense that you keep messing around with men old enough to be your father. You always had a thing for those.”

“What does this have to do with anything?”

Ollie grins ear to ear when she notices how annoyed you’ve become. “Carlos told you he was born in Madrid, right? Okay, well, he also has a whole bloodline there. And let’s just say, a cousin of his - my goodness, his daughters are beautiful - is a professor at your Uni.”

No.

“And well this birdie also told me how you’ve been sneaking in and out of his lecture room, late at night. And I wonder…What have you and him been doing behind closed doors?”

It can’t be. 

Professor Vázquez de Castro, he says as he extends his hand out, eyes roaming every inch of your body.

Suddenly, the name sounds familiar. The surname is Carlos’ extended one. Ollie’s eyes shine. “I see it’s clicking.”

“What do you want from me?”

“I want you to leave me and my husband alone. I want you to grab your things and leave. Don’t look back; just leave. Don’t contact papi ever again. I don’t want to hear a single thing from you. It’s bad enough you’ve already fucked my spouse.”

She knows. He told her. And they still got married. 

“Ollie, don’t…”

Tugging your hand harshly, she slaps her phone on it. And you don’t know how, but in it, it’s a video of you riding your Professor - Carlos’ cousin.

“Leave or I’ll show this to him. Your choice.”

Wet sobs leave your mouth as you shake your head in disbelief. How did this happen? Who took this video?

“Ollie, please…I love him.”

Her gaze sharpens as she takes the phone back and stands up. “You know what to do.”

Bringing your shaky hand up to your lips, you stare in shock. Wobbly legs walk past Max as he asks if you’re okay. One last smile looks back at him before you brush past by. 

Carlos is craning his neck, looking for you. He had confessed that night, but so had Ollie. He was breaking off the engagement. Spilling apologies as she cried against his chest. Despite it all, he still cared for your sister. But he knew it wasn’t going to work out. He was ready to leave when she brought up the tape of you and a cousin he didn’t even know he had. I’ll get her expelled. Don’t do this, Carlos. And so he stayed. He knew how much you loved school, regardless of what others might think. I just want to help others, you swooned one day by the pool. It’s what I wish someone had done for me.

You get to him before he spots you as you tap on his shoulder. He fills up with worry when he sees your red brimmed eyes. Sheepishly, you take his handkerchief as you wipe your rosy nose. What happened? Who made you cry? You shrug.

“Carlos…I love you.” He blinks. You let out a wet laugh as you lean up to kiss him. You didn’t care who saw anymore. This was it. He doesn’t seem to care either as his hands wrap around your waist. Holding you close, as if you might vanish into thin air. He was the waves, you were the shore. Pulling away, you wink. “Save me a dance, yeah?” 

Then, you’re walking away. Becoming smaller as you stroll over to the Italian house. Clutching his chest, he chokes: I-I…I.

“Carlos!”

Turning to face Ollie, he sees her waving him over to the giant cake. 

“Coming.”

-

Running into the quiet house, he calls your name. He looks behind every door, hoping to find the girl in red. Stumbling up the stairs, he swings your door open. He breathes heavily when he doesn’t find you, even here. Panicked, he grips his hair in despair. Only then, does it occur to him to open the restroom door, hoping to not scare you.

“¿Bonita?”

Silence. He still pushes it open as he carefully walks in, finding no harm in checking. And why? Why couldn’t he be as truthful like you were? Risk it the way you would have willingly done. Why did he let you walk into the house alone?

Falling to his knees, he desperately crawls over to your lifeless body, dark blood flowing from your wrists. 

As red as your dress.

He must be dreaming. This can’t be real. Surely, it can’t.

“No, no, no.” He drags your limp body into his arms. He can’t even pinpoint the moment his tears flow down his face. “Bonita, no. No. No. No.” The Spaniard cradles your colorless face into his hands. He gently taps your face a few times, but almost stops breathing himself when it only rolls back. Blood stains his white shirt. “Hey, hey.  C’mon, please. You want me to say it?” Hurriedly, he picks up your head as he kisses your lips over and over. He winces when he feels how chapped they’ve become.

“It doesn’t feel forced. I’m not saying it because I think it’s what you want to hear - I love you. I do. I love you as infinite as the ocean. I love the way you laugh, the way you trip over anything in your way, the way you say my name…I love you.” 

But he knew you weren’t listening. Not anymore. 

A piece of him died that day along with you. After that, life was a sickening blur. He’s out of it the moment he hears your father yelling out in agony or when Ollie screams at the gruesome scene. 

None of it mattered anymore.

[puccbunni]

[puccbunni]

smile you're on camera — lando norris

when miami hits different... lando norris x you (femreader) | 1.8k rating – 18+ (sex, coarse language) masterlist

“That all looked sufficiently cringe.”

Lando’s gruff laugh echoes as he slid the balcony door open for you. You had been watching him for the past half hour filming promotional content for the Miami GP, each one cheesier than the last and you couldn’t help but admire his work ethic – even if it meant watching him make a complete fool of himself in the blistering heat.

A grumbled “you’ve got no idea” paired with a deep sigh in reply was all you were going to get and a sweet kiss pressed to the back of your head.

He helped you collect the book you’d abandoned in lieu of watching him glow in the golden hour and retreat inside from the humidity, still suffocating as the sun set off in the distance. The sweet relief of the air con as you stepped inside provided a little bit of respite while Lando shuffled around the room, closing windows and doors, trapping what cool air you did have inside your hotel room.

“I have something to show you…”

Lando sheepishly declares as you splay out on the hotel bed, grumbling through a jaw splitting yawn, “What is it?” “I stole it.” That got your attention, shooting up from where you were laying down, “But I’ll take it back tomorrow… after we’ve used it.”

Sitting in his hot little hands was a camcorder that had seen better days, scratches on its lens and all. Lando watched your shocked expression fall to one of annoyance as you sat back on your hands, eyebrow quirked and scowl present on your pretty face.

“Absolutely not.”

“Aw come on,” He drawls, holding the camera up to his eye – the other squinted behind the viewfinder, “I swapped in one of my SD cards and I know you’re into this kinky shit. Admit it…”

Lando kept the camera up, the little red light that was on all of those old school recorders flashed in the dark. Your eyes were rolling when his grabby reached out for your hip, “You’re out of your mind.”

“That’s the effect you have on me, baby.”

A soft hum slips from your lips feeling the pads of his fingers tracing down the outside of your thigh, too easily convinced by the man who consumed your every thought; every desire. You missed him when he was gone, the days spent with him slimmer as the season lulled on. So, maybe having something to reference on those cold, lonely nights was excuse enough to indulge the idea. And he was right – you are into this shit.

“Just make sure you can’t see too much,” You whisper into the air, giving the green light.

Lando’s little noise tells you everything. He's excited about this; you can tell by the way he nips and presses a couple of sloppy kisses to your cheek before scurrying off to set up the camera. He was a giggly mess thinking about how fucking lucky he was to be with someone who was up for anything. Equal parts classy and devious – just the way he likes it.

“Hop up on the bed so I can frame you,” He sweetly instructs, eyes trained on the small screen lighting his dark features, ocean eyes a moody blue.

You do as you’re told and crawl up onto the comically large bed, propped up on one elbow with hair a mess. Lando smiles when he shifts focus onto you – the sheer white dress you were wearing flaunting everything he loved about your body. All curves and supple skin, pebbled nipples peaking through – the silverware you had secretly added to them as a surprise for him peaking through under the fabric.

“You are so fucking pretty,” He almost whimpers; a warm flush washing over your sticky skin. It was hot in the room you were in and the way Lando was eyeing you from behind the camera was searing.

“Can you take the dress off for me?” his voice was a lower octave than before, eyes still watching your shadowed body moving across the messy bed.

“Not sure how to make this look sexy but…” You huff, carelessly tearing the thin material over your head and throwing it to the side, “your wish is my command.”

Lando chuckles quietly and strides over to you, no longer able to keep his hands off what was his. He hopes there’s enough space on his card for what he was about to do to you – because in reality, this was selfishly for him to indulge in when you weren’t near, to feel like you were close when you’re a million miles away. You sat on the edge of the bed, eyes following his as he reaches out and presses down your hair, frizzed up by the dress sitting on the floor beside his feet.

“So cute,” He admires, “And somehow even sexier…”

He leans down and meets your craned neck halfway in a tender, reassuring kiss, “If it gets too weird just say, baby.”

His words were just loud enough for you to hear, not for the camera – just you, “Oh, you know I will.”

He laughs into the kiss, knowing that you were in full control of this situation – he was under no illusions when it came to your dynamic. It was laced through your entire relationship, the fair balance of power – of give and take. But tonight, all he wanted was to make you feel good and so he rested between your already shaky thighs and pried them apart, basking in how seduced you are by his little ploy.

“You pretend like this shit doesn’t turn you on but look at you,” He revels, one solitary finger brushing languidly through your folds and earning an impatient growl.

Lando wasn’t in the mood for teasing – the battery life on the camera and your legs wrapping tightly around his head made sure of that. He helps you shuffle back on the bed, hands gripping your hips as he rearranges the shot – you caught a glimpse of the blurry reflection of the two of you naked on the camera lens and it sent a pang of doubt down your spine, chilling.

“I hope we don’t look disgusting when we watch this back.” It was an honest thought – one you hope doesn’t kill the mood.

“You look so unbelievably hot,” Lando hums, kissing the top of your shoulder before pressing his hand to your lower back, “Lay on your front and I’ll fuck you like this…”

You raise a sceptical eyebrow, “From the back? This is getting real porny now.” But of course you do it, positioning yourself on your stomach, backside up with a playful smirk that had the man behind you grinning like an idiot.

“Might as well put on a bit of a show just in case this does get out somehow,” Lando teases, earning a swift round arm to the ribs. He grimaces in pain but you knew behind those flirtatious blue eyes, he loves it.

“Well you better fuck me good, huh? Wouldn’t want people thinking you’re a dud shag…” Now it was your turn to taunt and Lando’s reaction was the exact one you were praying for.

A hasty smack to your ass that had been brushing against his clothed cock for better part of a minute; it wasn’t a hard but it certainly wasn’t timid, either and the moan that slipped from your lips had him itching to rearrange your insides. He smoothed over the reddening mark and pressed a sweet kiss to your spine before pushing down the waistband of his sweatpants, freeing himself between your thighs.

“Don’t hold back those sweet sounds, pretty girl. I wanna hear you, okay? I want everyone to hear you…”

“Same goes for you, handsome.”

Your eyes flutter shut as you surrender to the delicious stretch he gives you. Weakly pushing back but making no head way in adjusting. A whimper falls from your mouth before the squeal when Lando lunges forward, pushing deeper with a sadistic grin lining his bitten lips. He was sweating already – tanned skin glimmering against the darkening sunset while every muscle on his stomach contracted, delving further into your depths.

“That’s it, Lan,” You sputter out, blowing stray hairs out of your face so you can get a good look at your boyfriend, “Move it just like that – yes…”

And he did, rotating your hips tantalisingly slow to begin but gradually building up his long, delectable strokes – the sounds of skin slapping and shallow breathing heightening all of the senses. In the midst of his relentlessness, you manage to slip your hand between your thighs, toying with the sensitive bud begging for your attention. Lando’s strained hum of approval when he felt your back arching sent a rush of blood to your fingertips.

“Tell me how good it feels when you play with yourself?” He asks, hunched over and kissing the nape of your neck when you opened your eyes, giggling at the wispy curls tickling your skin, “Is that how you do it when I’m not around?”

“God, yes… But wish you were always here, baby.”

“Do ya imagine me fucking you like this, huh? Begging for that pussy to come around my cock?” He probes, receiving a moan in response – your brain short-circuiting from the orgasm quickly approaching, easing you over the edge.  

You buried your head at first, shying away from the little red light flashing in your rolling eyes until Lando gently encouraged you to ‘show him your pretty face when you come undone’. It was all whispers and moans and absolute bliss when you resurfaced, pupils blown out from both sides as Lando reached over you and flipped the small preview screen around.

“Look at yourself,” He grunts into your neck, losing control of every single fibre of his being as he pumped into you.

“Fill me up, Lan. Make a mess…”

“If you say shit like that to me, you're gonna make me– fucking… fuck,” He sputters out, chanting your name, and before you can even blink, you feel that familiar twitch inside you.

The one that almost always triggers another high, extremely close to losing yourself to the white hot pleasure all over again.

Lando collapses into your slick back, his warm release pooling as he catches his breath and holds you tightly. You look up at the camera – the red light still flashing as you muster up every ounce of energy remaining and pick it up off the tripod. You hold it stupidly close to his flushed cheeks that are pressed into your skin, eyes closed.

“Any last words before I turn this off?” You ask, Lando slowly lifts his chin up and rests it next to your face. You smile at how equally fucked out and sleepy you both appear, blissfully satisfied by your work. His voice is gravelly when he tries to speak, clearing his throat before trying again.

“Um, yeah so make sure you like the video and subscribe if you haven’t already…”

“Stop!” You shout and smack him in the shoulder – Lando groans with faux pain into your neck as you turn the camera off and wriggle out of his strong grasp.

“You are unbelievable!” You jest, swatting his tickling fingertips away.

“What? I could’ve said stay tuned for part two…”

a/n – happy new years everyone x

[puccbunni]

Too Far Gone - Part Thirty Three

Series Masterlist

A/N: This takes early to mid August

Warnings: Drinking, swearing, cocaine use, smut, sick kids and hospitals

Word Count: 6000

A/N: This takes early to mid August

Warnings: Drinking, swearing, cocaine use, smut, sick kids and hospitals

It is cold and wet outside; a crazy fall storm was rolling off the lake, ripping through the streets of Toronto. But no amount of rain or wind was going to stop them from celebrating Becks’ birthday. Wearing a tight jumpsuit that matches the colour on her lips with a plunging neck and wide legs, her hair was curled and twisted to the side. Tia looked fucking hot.

Fluffing her hair in the mirror, she joined the crowd of people at the island and took a celebratory shot with the birthday girl. And then they took another, and another. And before they even left to go to the bar Tia, along with everyone else was buzzed. Her and Emily were lost in their own conversation, and she was tucked tight under Thomas’s strong harm. He had a beer in his hand, laughing at something Max said, while his hand softly drew circles on her bicep.

After returning home from Kylie’s house sixteen days ago, having spent hours in the blistering heat - and never managing a step past the bus stop, Tia phoned Thomas. The second the door opened he tried to apologize, but Tia shushed him with a kiss. He kept trying and trying to apologize, and she kept kissing him and kissing him, but once she dropped to her knees pulling his pants down with her, all words were lost on him. He attempted to return the favour, but his tongue was short of the mark, and once Tia realized it wasn’t going to happen, she faked it and he didn’t even notice.

That night they went out with his friends to Early Mercy, and in the VIP bathroom the cocaine was once again brought out. Tia took some. Then she took some more and then some more and when they walked to Thomas’s at 3am he quickly had more lines set up on the counter. Within minutes of taking them she was bent over the table, fully clothed with underwear shoved to the side. Handprints were left on her ass and bruises on her hips, but she didn’t care.

They never did talk about what happened at the club. Instead, they fucked, and they fucked again. They stopped and had some water, and once they each took another line they fucked again. It was after 7 before they finally passed out, and they slept until 2 when Tia had to frantically run home and shower before Taylour arrived, excitedly telling her about the 200 seashells he found and brought back to Toronto for her to see.

Over the next two weeks Tia only went to the club twice - any time Auston had Taylour, her and Thomas have basically been glued at the hip. That’s why she had been looking forward to this day for weeks, introducing him to her friends.

Then Taylour fell sick, whining and crying, clinging to her. He would take children’s Tylenol and his fever would drop, he would have a bit more energy and ask for jello or some juice, but as the medicine began to wear off, she could see him slowly getting worse. He would be hot, so Tia would run him a cool bath, then he’d be cold, so she’d bring him to her lap with a warm fleece blanket. She didn’t go anywhere for days – internship included - barely even manage to sign on for her online classes.

When Auston picked him up last night, it was obvious he was still feeling ill. He didn’t afford Auston the usual greeting – beeline for his legs with a big hug – instead he barely cracked half a smile. Auston sat on the couch taking the space Tia once occupied and pulled Taylour into his lap, Taylour welcomed the embrace, resting his head against him with his stuffed animals squished between them. He barely mustered the energy to answer his questions, just faint murmurs and nods.

She was hesitant to let him go. Auston had never been around a sick child, and Taylour was barely okay with Tia leaving him to go the bathroom, but Auston assured her everything would be fine. He said he had stopped and bought everything Tia said Taylour would need; popsicles, freezies, children’s Tylenol – grape not cherry, because he wouldn’t take cherry – and juice. He promised to give her updates and let her know the second anything changed.

When Taylour woke up this morning, he had more energy than normal, and his fever hadn’t hit 100°F once today, but Tia still considered cancelling. It wasn’t until Auston sent her a video in the afternoon of Taylour running around his apartment no shirt on, frantically giggling, she acknowledged he is on the upswing and decided to go and try to have a good time.

And everything was going well. There were enough people around that Tia only needed to be close to Claire for group pictures. Everyone was laughing and smiling, and the music bounced off the walls. Becks and Emily were eager to meet Thomas, had a million questions and they were met with his charming personality.

Coda was packed when they arrived. They made their way to the booth - the booth Claire booked. The floor vibrated under their feet and bodies shook with anticipation. People continued to drink the never-ending alcohol – a perk of bottle service. Tucked safely under Thomas’s arm, she’d periodically feel his lips brush against her hairline, his hand squeeze her thigh or he’d whisper, “you look stunning,” in her ear.

“TIAAAAAA!” Becks shouts over the bass and laughter from the group. Stumbling on her heels she almost falls into her lap, being her birthday, she was drunker than everyone else. “Come dance.” Stretching her arm out she grabs her hand and begins to tug.

“Watch my bag?” she giggles to Thomas, who just smiled back in response.

Making her way on to the dance floor, Becks walked back up to Camille and placed a light kiss on her lips. The two of them were wrapped in the others arms, dancing and kissing, could barely keep their hands off in their own little world. Tia and Emily had their hands in the air while they sang horribly offkey to Britney Spears.

“SHOTS!” Anne shrieks, carrying a tray with over a dozen glasses full of various colours.

Bringing their glasses up in the air, Emily pulls her phone out to take a parade of selfies. Cheersing their glasses, smiling at the camera, taking their shots while peering to the phone from the corner of their eyes. They made different faces, laughing, smiling, singing, different poses from every angle.

“I really like this dress,” Thomas leans into Claire’s ear, cutting into her conversation with Thea. She looks flawless in a red bodycon dress and matching red stilettos. Everyone knows it, even Tia does, and if Tia felt inclined to talk to her, she would tell her that. But she doesn’t.

“Uh, thanks,” her eyes dart to him from the corner of her eyes, and back to Thea to shoot her a glance as heat builds in her cheeks.

“It’s such a good colour,” Thomas yells into Claire’s ear, taking another shot, “really brings out your eyes.”

“Thanks…” Claire shoots him a soft smile. Thea leans in and whispers something, bringing both women to giggle, Claire subtly nodding at her.

“I’m Thomas,” he extends a hand to her.

“Claire,” she hesitates, then reaches out to accept the shake. As she lets it go, Thomas shifts to be closer to hear her over Senorita that is playing loudly from the DJ stand. “You’re with Ti-“

“What the fuck?” Tia comes barrelling in, hot with anger.

“Tia!” Claire’s emerald green eyes are unable to meet hers as she moves to create as much space from Thomas as possible. “It’s not –“

“Haven’t you done enough?” she snaps, her voice getting louder with every word she speaks. “You didn’t ruin my life enough before, figured you’d give it another go?”

“It’s not –“

“Don’t fucking lie to me Claire!” she demands, eyes narrowing.

“Tia,” Thomas stands up. Smoothing the fabric of his shirt, he steps over Claire and Thea’s legs and slips his hand into Tia’s. “Come on,” he drops his lips to speak softly in her ear. Gently tugging on her hand, Tia reluctantly steps away and follows him to the bar before anybody in their group had a chance to notice what was about to unfold. Moving his hand to be low on her back he places a kiss to her cheek. “Don’t worry about her baby.”

Tia didn’t.

She ordered a drink, and then another, and within an hour she had completely forgot about Claire. She let Thomas lead her to the bathroom, and once the door was locked, she pulled the tiny bag out from his back pocket and giggled at him. Putting the palms of her hands on the counter Tia leaned back and let him pour a dollop of cocaine to her perfect breasts. Nestling his head between her orbs, she giggled when he followed up the bump by licking a stripe towards her neck.

“Stop,” she giggles, putting her hands on his hips.

“I don’t want to,” he murmurs against her neck, placing a hot and wet kiss to her neck.

“I don’t want you to either,” Tia almost moans.

“You know what I do want?” His hands wander down her back before he grabs a handful of her ass, rolling her onto him.

“What?” she groans out.

“I want to fuck you in this bathroom,” he yet again squeezes her ass, tighter than before.

“What’s stopping you?” her eyes are the darkest they have ever been.

Within seconds he is tugging the zipper down her back as Tia sets the diamond bag on the counter. Once the zipper is released, he shoves the fabric down to her knees and hoists her onto the ledge. As Tia works on his belt, he grabs his wallet and fumbles through it for a condom, his pants pooling at his ankles.

“You on birth control?” he holds the wrapper up in her eyeline.

“Mhm,” Tia nods bashfully.

“Maybe we don’t need this then,” a smirk slowly spreads on his face.

“Maybe,” she snatches it from him and sends him a flirtatious wink. “I already had one unplanned pregnancy and don’t want another.”

After she rolls the condom over his thick length, her heels press into his ass and she edges him closer, the two of them gasping when his length splits her open. Tia wants to think that suggestion was the result of drugs, alcohol and excitement over potentially being caught. It’s been just over a month since their first date and even if she didn’t get pregnant at eighteen and spend the last three years struggling as a single mom, foregoing a condom seems way too early at this point.

Her friends have teased her over the fact it was less than two months into sleeping with Auston before they didn’t use one, but it was in the heat of the moment because they didn’t have one. But also, it was because she loved him, and in that moment had zero doubt they’d be together forever. While there certainly are some aspects Tia loves about Thomas, there are some feelings she is still rifling through. And until she sorts through all that, and knows she loves him deeply, she won’t be comfortable not using one.

Fortunately for him, the pace he sets quickly forces those thoughts from her mind. It’s not long until her moans and heavy breathing are replacing the air in the room, as he drives into her faster and harder than before. Every part of her is on fire and the pounding music outside is non-existent, just his hot lips pressed to her ear muttering filth, punctuating each sentence with a heavy deep thrust.

“Should have bent you over, made you watch yourself fall apart in the mirror,” her vision blurs and her nails anchor deep into his neck. “That’s what you want right? To be fucked good?” He pushes her body forward with each thrust, but the grip on her hip pulls her back onto him. “Can’t wait to not wear a condom,” he hits her g-spot again. “Then you’d have to march around with my cum oozing out, let everyone know who you belong to.”

“Say it. Say your mine.” Every thrust is getting shallower than the last, but Tia barely hears anything as static fizzles behind her ear. Opening her mouth to try and process what he said, she is sent tumbling over a cliff, him spilling into the condom seconds later.

“Fuck,” he howls. With sweaty foreheads connected he presses a soft kiss to her lips, before pulling away. “That was insane.”

“Yeah,” she gasps for air.

Tia wants to process what he said, but within seconds he is tilting her head back and sprinkling another small pile of cocaine on her breast, only to bury his face in it seconds later. “Fucking insane,” he snorts. When he finally pulls out and began to clean himself Tia was preparing a line for herself, when a generic iPhone chime erupted in her purse.

With an exaggerated eye roll she puts the bag down on the counter and pulls out her phone, her stomach instantly dropping. Six missed calls, three voicemails and 14 texts messages, all from Auston.

Shakily putting her phone back in her purse, she barely had the straps of her jumpsuit back on when she reached for the handle. “I got to go,” she fumbles out, swinging the heavy door open.

“Tia,” Thomas calls out as tears wet her cheeks.

Fumbling her way into the hall crowded hall, Tia trips over her feet and into a body. “Tia,” Max catches her and instantly see’s the pain written on her face, the tears streaming down her cheeks. Eyeing her with concern his entire posture shifts when Thomas steps into the hall behind her, hair a mess but a look of fear in his eyes. “What happened?” Max’s voice is stern, darting his gaze back to Tia.

“Nothing,” she sniffles, rivers flowing down her cheeks.

“Tia –“ Thomas pleads with her, eyes wide and full of confusion. The desperation in his voice nips at her heart, and she suddenly feels regret and deceit in the unfolding situation.

“NO!” Max’s voice booms drawing the attention of everyone in the dark hallway. “You stay there!” He points to Thomas as he pulls Tia against his chest, protectively engulfing her against his frame.

“Nothing –“

“I said stay there!” he spits harshly. White hot anger rolls down his spine. Instead of feeling comfort, it’s as though all of the light has been snuffed out in the world around her.

“It’s Taylour,” Tia calls out, ignoring everything going on around her. “He’s in the hospital.”

“Oh my god,” both of their voices overlap, Max’s face softening as he cradles her to be closer.

“I have to go, can you tell Becks?” she wipes away her tears, more quickly taking their place.

“I’m coming –“

“No, stay,” Tia cuts off Max. “The hospital won’t want a bunch of drunk twenty-year-old’s crowding the emergency room.”

“You sure?” she just nods. Bringing her in for a quick hug, Tia buries her face against his chest and sniffles. “Text as soon as you know anything.” She nods again.

She didn’t say bye to Thomas, or anyone for that matter. Max loosened his grip, and she basically forced her way through crowds of people, pushing some out of the way, every step the music faded further and further into the background. Every part of her was hot, clammy, and if not for the adrenaline she might have passed out.

Climbing into the taxi she called Auston. While she barely heard a word he said, she could hear the panic in his voice, but more than that, she heard Taylour sobbing in the background.

His cries broke her in two and her stomach sank; all the alcohol she consumed threatening to make a second appearance of the evening.

While her son was scared and sick in a hospital bed pleading for her, she was drinking and fucking her boyfriend in a bar bathroom. She shouldn’t have gone out, she should have taken him to see his doctor, or at the very least called them instead of handing him Children’s Tylenol. There were a million different things she should have done differently, and she never felt like she had failed more as a mother, than she did during that taxi ride.

“I’m here,” Auston hears the clicking of her heels seconds she runs into the room. He barely has time to stand up before Tia is sitting on the edge of the hospital bed. Making no attempt to hide her face, he sees the puffiness of her cheeks and redness in her eyes, no amount of makeup could hide that. “I’m here Taylour,” she softly cards her hands through his curls and touches his forehead, his clammy skin burning under her palm.

A faint mumble can be heard as Taylour’s eyes flutter ever so slightly, stirring in his sleep. Auston tries to explain what happened, but Tia hears nothing over the high-pitched ringing in her ears. An overwhelming amount of guilt floods her as she sees Taylour lying in a hospital bed, his small body tucked under a generic neutral coloured cotton blanket. Two hours he had been there before Tia walked in. For two hours he was scared, likely crying out for her, wanting her, and she wasn’t here.

What kind if mother isn’t there when their child is in the hospital? It’s her only thought, unfortunately and she knows the answer. Kylie wasn’t there. Not when she had her tonsils removed at six, or when she broke her arm at twelve. Her mother was the kind of mother who wasn’t there for her child, and Tia hates that they are one in the same.

Wanting to curl up beside him in that bed, she whispers how she will never leave him again, that she is sorry for not being there. Warm tears barrel down her cheeks, continuing on their path until they drip from her chin, landing on Geoffery. Rhythmic beeping of the machines and shoes squeaking on the floor, even the occasional laugh can be heard by Auston, but not Tia. For her the world stops spinning.

When Auston faintly clears his throat, he shatters the silence that is slowly expanding in the room Finally pulling away she realizes Auston is there, devastation evident on his face. She barely even acknowledged his presence in the room, let alone considered how he must be feeling after everything that transpired. Based on the dark bags under his eyes, the red colour circling his pupils, the weight hanging off his shoulders, it’s obvious he is in pain.

Through blurred lenses, she chokes back some sobs and walks right into his chest. He can smell the vodka on her breath and the faintly wafting scent of her sultry perfume. Welcoming her embrace, she buries her head against him and once again breaks down. The two of them stand there, tangled in each other. It could be minutes, could be hours, all Auston knows is he can’t take her cries anymore, his night was filled with enough of them.

“Tia,” he soothes, running a hand over her back. “He’s fine, the doctor said he’s fine.”

“I didn’t know,” she finally speaks, voice hardly louder than a whisper. “He was in the hospital, and I didn’t know.”

“Tia everything is okay.”

The hurt in her heart escalates from a dull throb to a burning, piercing pain. Her chest heaves, warm tears barrel down her cheeks, blurring her vision as she watches Taylour sleep. He looks so tiny with a blanket tucked up to his chin only with one hand resting on top, Geoffery tucked in tight.

“The needle,” she chokes on her sobs seeing the IV taped to his hand. “He hates them, how did he take it?”

“He was fine.”

Auston lies. Taylour screamed the entire time, and for about five minutes after. He was squirming so much the nurse made Auston help hold him down, which only made the experience that much worse. They both know he is lying. But Tia doesn’t know if her heart can handle the truth, and Auston doesn’t know if he can relive it.

“He is fine T,” Auston confirms. “He has strep, and because he wouldn’t drink he is a little dehydrated. They just wanted to get some fluids in him.” Tilting his wrist to glance at his Rolex, he checks the time before continuing. “They said he should be discharged in the next hour or two.”

“Kay.” He feels a faint nod against his chest.

“I looked it up online and everything said that I could have waited for him to see his doctor in the morning. I just panicked.”

It wasn’t quite that. Auston made dinner and Taylour wouldn’t even take a bite, he then offered him every food in his apartment and Taylour rejected them all, complaining his head hurt.

Taylour reluctantly took some medicine, then climbed into Auston’s lap for Toy Story, where he spent most of that time sniffling against his chest. Auston offered him popsicles, juice, jello, anything he could think of, always getting the same response. No.

He felt his forehead and cheeks and noticed he was burning up. It was too early for another dose of Tylenol and that’s when he first sent Tia a text. Then he coughed for about ten seconds straight, a deep heavy disgusting cough full of phlegm. By this point texts and phone calls to Tia and his own mother were unanswered, and he didn’t know what to do, so he turned to google. Panic rose in his blood as he read the various diagnosis, everything from a common cold to lung cancer being listed. He was almost spiralling until Taylour stilled in his arms and his head rest against Auston’s chest, and he thought maybe he had fallen asleep. Then about ten minutes later he coughed again and this time Auston heard the wheeze in his lungs, and he didn’t even think about it. He was in his Dior slides taking Taylour to the hospital.

“No.” She reassures him, knowing it’s her turn to try and comfort him, while acutely aware that it won’t work. “You did the right thing. You should have brought him.”

Continuing to sniffle against him, they hold each other. Machines beep in the distance, voices can be heard over the speakers, the occasional laughter from a passing nurse. It’s all there. But neither one of them hears anything. Trapped in their own world thinking only of Taylour and the events from that night.

**

Stepping into her apartment Tia kicks her heels against the floor. Not far behind is Auston carrying a sleeping Taylour who gently snores on his shoulder. Entering his bedroom, they both tuck him in, taking turns placing soft kisses to his forehead before leaving to return to the hall.

Tia left Auston standing in her kitchen and went to her bathroom, beginning to task of washing her face. The second the door closed behind her she collapsed on the other side. Not to say she didn’t at the hospital. But this was different. It was ugly inconsolable sobbing, with hiccups and gasping for air. It’s feeling numb and overwhelmed with emotions at the same time. It’s anger. It’s disappointment. It’s guilt.

Hearing her sobs over the running water, Auston moved to her bed. His knee bounced uncomfortably against the floor only making his heart thud angrily against his rib cage, each breath was shallow and raspy in his throat. He waited close to twenty minutes, her sobs got louder and louder and he felt so helpless on the other side of the door, just listening.

Then a relative eerie silence crept in. Knocking on the door, there was no resistance when he turned the handle, but he softly mutters a curse word. Falling onto the floor beside her, he bends his knees and trains his eyes down at his feet. Her entire body is frozen like a chunk of tundra, stiff, barely welcoming his arm going over her shoulder.

“Tia. Baby. You need to stop.” He tries to reassure her, but the words fall flat. There is little anybody could do to pull her out.

“Two hours,” she whispers.

“You got there as soon as you found out.”

“I should have been there sooner.” Her face turned into a frown, then her bottom lip quivered as her shoulders fell and she started to cry. Pulling her closer, she doesn’t flinch or tug away, instead there was a sharp inhale followed by her head falling against his shoulder.

“You were out celebrating your friend’s birthday, he had been doing better for almost a day, we had no way of knowing that would happen.”

He was getting better. His fever was lower than it had been, and he had energy. The only reason she went out is because he was getting better. “I should have been there. What kind of mother isn-”

“No.” he interrupts her, voice firm and full of conviction. “Don’t do that.” Lifting her jaw, his large hand easily cups her face wiping away the tears that were running down her cheek with the pad of his thumb. “Taylour was being cared for, you are allowed to go out and have fun with your friends. Kids get sick, this easily could have happened during the hockey season. Would I be a bad dad if I was in Texas or New York and that happened?”

“No,” she reluctantly admits. She knows he is right. Taylour has been sick before, and he likely will be sick again. Tia knows all of this, but none of it matters.

They don’t speak. Not for a while. Her head falls back his shoulder and they both stared down at their feet. Her sniffles finally subsided, but she still didn’t speak, trying to process her guilt. Auston is trying to comfort her - it’s not an easy task when his own heart is still beating a mile a minute. He never even thought he’d have to deal with Taylour being sick, let alone having to take him to the hospital. The first few hours were spent worrying about Taylour, and the last bit has been spent worrying about Taylour and Tia. He hasn’t afforded himself a second to process what happened.

“How are you doing?” she finally asks, long after she should have. As if it wasn’t bad enough, her doing lines in a bar while her son cried out for her, she feels horrible for telling Auston he would be fine, and then being too busy fucking in a bathroom to answer his texts. “Tonight wasn’t easy for you, I’m sure.”

“I’m okay.” He lies, swallowing the lump in his throat. His breathing is deep and heavy, full of exaggerated sighs mixed with sporadic huffs. So caught up in everything they are feeling, neither one acknowledges his calloused thumb gently soothing over her arm, it just feels natural.

Tia scoffs, or tries to, but it catches in her throat. “I’m not okay,” he admits, hearing the incoherent strangled sound fall from her lips. “Tonight was fucking brutal. I never felt so lost, so helpless. You didn’t answer, Christina…my mom. I literally had no idea what to do. What kind of dad doesn’t know how to help his sick son?” he asks, voice strained by hours of stress and mounting worry. Bringing a hand up, he rubs his eyes, brushing the tears that linger on the surface.

“Auston.” Her tone softens as she pulls away to look up at him. And its in that moment she realizes he looks like hell. His eyes are hollow, lacking any semblance of the person she once knew, his shoulders are slumped forward, he almost looks frozen, robotic.

“You did what was needed to be done. He was sick, you got him help. You did exactly what Taylour needed you to do.”

This time it’s him who knows she is right. He did everything he should have done. Yet it feels like an overreaction on his part. When the doctor explained Taylour had strep throat and with a few doses of antibiotics he would be back to his usual self, Auston felt stupid. He genuinely thought something was seriously wrong, and he ran through every unimaginable situation. With one dose of antibiotics and some electrolytes they sent him home. Doesn’t exactly seem like the situation that warranted an ER trip in the middle of the night.

Would a dad who had been around for their child’s entire life know that? Would they have waited until the morning and saw his paediatrician, or would they have responded the same way? The answer is one he doesn’t want to admit, because that would be admitting he doesn’t know what he’s doing.

“Yeah.”

His words are soft, almost dismissive, but there is nothing else to be said. A million thoughts run through their heads, yet not another word falls from their lips. Processing their individual guilt, they sit silently. Seconds feel like minutes, minutes feel like hours.

“I should get to bed, who knows when Taylour will wake up.” Pausing, Tia thinks over her next words for a second before continuing. “Will you stay?”

“I wasn’t planning on leaving.”

A slight smile cracks on her lips before she rises to her feet. Auston stands and his knees crack in the process. He leaves her alone to brush her teeth and run a brush through her hair, and when she opens the door to her bedroom a few minutes later, it’s as it was before. Her blanket is perfectly placed, pink plush throw blanket draped diagonally across the bottom, multiple pillows at the head - not a wrinkle in them. It’s exactly how she left it, but now how she expected to find it. She expected Auston to be occupying a portion of it.

Finding a pair of black sleep shorts that end part way down her thighs, she pulls them on. She doesn’t bother tying up the drawstring before pulling out an oversized t-shirt that stops past her shorts. She pokes her head out into the living room and spots Auston, still awake. The white in his eyes reflecting the city lights that filter in through the floor to ceiling windows, one hand resting on his chest as he uses a couch pillow to lie on.

A couch pillow, he didn’t even grab one of the many from her bed. And instead of getting a blanket, he is using the small throw blanket she normally leaves hanging off the back of the couch. Part of his shins and feet hang out at the bottom as barely comes up his stomach.

“Auston,” she calls out, her tone barely over a whisper.

“Hmm,” his head snaps over to the side.

“You can sleep in here,” she offers, eyeing to her bedroom. “Bed’s more comfortable.”

The silence in that room was more than enough to activate the flurry of thoughts that had been crowding Auston’s mind. Tia’s eyes watched the streetlights dance along the ceiling and reflect off the mirror, before finally landing on the alarm clock on the nightstand. The bright red numbers burned her retinas as she watched the minutes tick away, not even recognizing the time.

Auston barely slept. Every time he began to drift off Tia would move or huff beside him, or he’d feel her crawling back into bed after checking on Taylour. It was twenty minutes here, ten minutes there, all very scattered. So, it was surprising to him that he fell asleep in darkness and woke up to sunlight pouring in from the windows. It hurt to blink open his eyes, and he squinted to prevent the brightness from further extenuating the blinding headache.

It takes him a moment to even recognize it, it’s not until there is a soft moan that he stops taking in the familiar surroundings and notices Tia. Wrapped tightly in his arms, her face pressed against his chest, their inhales and exhales matching the others.

He should go check on Taylour, it’s nearing the time for the next dose of amoxycillin, but he can’t push Tia away, not after the night she had. He does the opposite. He cradles her in tight and lets her sleep for a few more minutes.

It doesn’t take long for a familiar voice to call out from the door and drift through the half-opened door. Tia stirs against him, and Taylour’s voice gets louder but still cracks as he rubs sleep from his eyes. With a large yawn he walks over to her side of the bed and Auston pulls back enough to hoist him up on the bed.

“Mommy,” Taylour mumbles.

Sitting up, Tia blinks a few times and pulls Taylour into her lap, completely unphased by how they had been lying. “Hi Taylour.”

Rocking him back and forth in her arms, she gently kisses his temple. Using the back of her hand she touches his forehead which is marginally warm, but cooler than a few hours ago. “You doing okay?”

“I’m going to get his medicine,” Auston explains crawling out of bed. With a gentle nod, Tia keeps her attention on Taylour, who lets out a deep, phlegmy cough which shakes his entire body.

“My throat hurts,” he sniffles, burying his head against her shoulder.

“I know,” she gently kisses his temple and forehead, softly whispering that he will be okay. Returning with a small cup of juice and his medicine Auston sits on the edge of the bed. His white t-shirt is tight to his chest and arms, tattoos on display under the hem, dark brown hair tousled in every direction.

“Hey Taylour,” Auston calls out gently, his tone soft and full of compassion. His white t-shirt is loose, but the boxers he chose to sleep in cling perfectly to the muscles of his thighs, tight, almost as if to perfectly tease her – though she knows there is no intent. “I have some medicine for you, it will make you feel better.”

“No,” he whines, burying his head against her shoulder.

“It tastes like bananas,” Tia tries to offer. “You like bananas.”

With only a soft whimper, Tia grins to Auston before trying again. “Just a little medicine then we’ll all go back to sleep. You’ll wake up in a few hours and we will watch movies all day. You can have popsicles and freezies, and before you know it, you’ll feel better. But the medicine will make you better, you have to take the medicine.”

They are met with silence. Bringing his fingers up to Taylour’s chin, Auston tilts it for him to look at him and almost breaks himself. All colour is drained, he can practically see the stickiness that lingers on his skin, Geoffrey is engulfed in his little body and sleep is crested at the corner of his dark eyes. Lifting the spoon to his own mouth Auston opens wide and puts it in, tasting a little bit. “Mmm,” he adds for dramatic flair, “it’s yummy, want some?”

“Okay,” his bottom lip quivers, tears coating his eyes. Opening up Auston brings the spoon to his mouth, grinning as Taylour reluctantly takes the medicine. Passing him a cup, he takes a small sip followed by a large gasp, and collapses back against Tia’s shoulder.

“Want to sleep in here for a bit?” Tia offers. With a soft nod, Tia falls into the mattress, cradling Taylour against her. After putting the medicine back in the fridge, Auston crawls back into his place behind her. Tucked tightly against Tia’s chest, a few whimpers can be heard, and Auston knows he won’t be getting anymore sleep.

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[puccbunni]

Too Far Gone - Part Twenty Five

Series Masterlist

A/N: Italics indicates a flashback.

Warnings: Swearing, storage, smut - unprotected sex (wrap it kids), drinking, a little angst

Word Count: 16,300

It was gut-wrenching to leave Tia’s. He knew he had to, she just said she needed time, but when Auston stepped into the hall he felt he might never be back. Not physically, he would be there for Taylour – he has zero doubt of his role in Taylour’s life – there is this lingering fear that everything with Tia is over.

In Zurich there was always a text waiting for him after games. Even when Tia was there, waiting for him in the tunnel, she’d send something - just until he got to see her.

After game four there wasn’t.

He never really missed seeing her name on his screen in the locker room. Until tonight.

Being able to compartmentalize, Auston didn’t think about those words for the sixty minutes he was on the ice. Everywhere else they haunted him.

Playing two touch before the game, answering the post game media questions following the loss, driving to the airport, the entire flight to Boston, the bus to the hotel, showering, getting ready for dinner. He found himself thinking of it when he wasn’t thinking of anything at all.

By the time it came for them to leave the hotel on the 19th to drive to the TD Garden Centre for game five, Auston found himself feeling better, thinking about it less and less. Largely in part to snapchat sent him of Taylour.

“Hi daddy,” he grinned at the camera. Standing in the middle of the living room wearing a Toronto Maple Leafs hat over his curls, the curls he is still fighting her to trim - at least she had them brushed to the side and out of his eyes.

Pulling the camera away from his face, Auston shifted in his seat, instantly perking when he saw the familiar blue on his torso, the white Leaf emblem barely poking out.

“Good luck daddy,” his eyes flicked to Tia behind the camera.

“Score lots of goals,” he heard Tia whisper. Keeping his voice soft, a shy grin on his face, he repeated the words.

“And have fun,” she whispered.

“Have fun Daddy!” he squealed, a wide smile on his face.

“Say bye,” Tia prompted from behind the camera.

“Bye Daddy, love you.” Bringing his palm to his face, he pressed it against his mouth, and blew Auston a big kiss. Auston wasn’t entirely sure, it happened so quickly, but he swear he saw a white number 34 on the sleeve. Sitting on the edge of the hotel bed he replayed the video and four things went through his head:

Tia better have saved that video so he can watch it more than twice

That definitely was a 34

He wished it was him who bought Taylour the jersey

It had to be a 34

It gave him hope, but above all else, it was an extra bit of motivation.

The good mood didn’t last. Less than three hours later he went by the group of WAG’s, standing beside the ice taking photos. They were waving to their boyfriends and husbands, wearing matching playoff jackets. Auston used to hate those jackets, thought they were stupid and cliché, now all he can think about is Tia in one, his name and number stitched into it, holding Taylour who’s wearing that jersey he somehow came to acquire.

But they aren’t here.

And seeing all the other women, only makes the idea of him and Tia seem more distant.

“Charwee,” Taylour squeals. Still wearing the jersey, he wraps his arms around her as soon as the door opens.

“Tay,” she giggles back, pulling him in tight for a hug.

“Come look, I got a new toy!” Grabbing her hand, Taylour tugs her into the living room, leaving everyone else at the door.

“Ohmygod, they are too cute” Sarah says, looking at them adoringly.

“Just the best,” Tia agrees.

Watching Taylour, he sets up the bowling pins in the living room. Walking over with the black plastic ball, he hands it to her encouraging her to ‘hit them all down.’ After every roll Taylour runs to the other side of the room and collects the ball, and removes any pins she knocked down before handing it back to her.

“You did it!” Taylour cheers after the fourth roll that knocks down the last pin.

Running back to the pins Charlie sets them all up, leaving gaps between some, in no way does it resemble the proper set-up found in bowling alleys. “Your turn now!”

“I miss when life was that easy,” Becks chimes in.

Same. Tia thinks to herself.

“A time without bills and debt,” Emily laughs.

Twisting the cap off the wine Emily doesn’t even ask everyone, grabbing five glasses she begins to pour and sets them in front of everyone. Zoning out, Tia watches the kids play, laughing as Charlie explains something she saw in a movie recently. Tia can barely understand the ramblings, but Taylour doesn’t miss a beat, joining in and asking her questions while he rolls the ball across the floor, knocking down more than half the pins at once.

“Tia,” Becks laughs, giving her a gentle nudge.

“Hmm…yeah?” she turns her gaze, attempting to give her friends a fraction of her attention.

“We asked about the collection.”

“Oh, my teacher loved it, but we won’t know the grade for a bit. No idea if I passed it, or the class,” she explains.

“Well it’s good he loved it,” Emily adds in, being met with nodding heads and yeah’s.

“So what pieces did you pick?”

Pulling out her phone Tia sets in on the table, scrolling through the pictures one at a time telling them a little about each item. “We uh…we cut this one out,” she explains, coming across the picture of Auston with the see through shirt.

“He looked good in that shirt,” Abby edges.

“Tia won’t admit it.” Grinning over her glass of wine, Becks winks at Tia. “She won’t admit to anything when it comes to him.”

“What would I have to admit?” she fights the urge to roll her eyes.

“Seriously?” Sarah scoffs, rolling her eyes dramatically.

“What?” Tia snipes, a little harsher than intended.

“You can’t tell us you feel nothing for him,” Emily scoffs.

Opening her mouth to object, it instantly snaps shut. Taking a second to think over her response, not because she doesn’t know what she is feeling, but isn’t entirely sure how to portray it.

“Mommy, can we watch a movie?” Two feet enthusiastically patter against the wood floor. Stopping at the table, Charlie eagerly tugs on Sarah’s sleeve with wide beady eyes.

“Yeah, come on.” She replies being met with cheers by the kids. Walking over to the living room, Sarah grabs the remote and sets up Netflix, while the two kids climb onto the couch, cuddling beside each other – each grasping their favourite stuffed animals. Finding the movie they want she places a blanket over their legs and places a kiss on each of their forehead.

“It’s about more than what I feel,” Tia finally concedes. If Auston were any other guy – not the father of her child – she would have ran from all the red flags, so why – because Auston is his father – should she make an exception?

“But you do feel something?” Abby asks.

“Maybe…I don’t know,” she shrugs.

“Then why do you kiss him every chance you get?” Becks questions.

“We barely kiss.” Tia’s cheeks heat up at the lie, and eyes drop to the table.

“Seriously?” Unlocking her phone Becks pulls up Auston’s Instagram. Even though he untagged himself, the picture was reposted by three other accounts. “This is the kind of kiss that leads to sex.”

Sliding it around the table, Emily nods in agreement, sending Tia a devious wink, Abby remains relatively expressionless while Sarah scrunches her face up and sighs, locking the phone.

“That’s the kind of kiss that makes Taylour a brother,” Emily sings.

Ohmygod Tia groans internally, taking another sip of wine.

“You guys just need to do it,” Becks states bluntly.

“Have some more of that earth shattering sex you refuse to tell us about,” Emily grins. “You guys know you work together, just figure it out as you go.”

“No we don’t,” she quickly shuts that down. “Last time we kissed…it easily could have lead to more. Almost did,” she adds, her voice dropping to barely above a whisper. Sensing her hesitation, nobody says anything, waiting for her to continue. “I don’t know what I want, if I even want to be with him.”

“Really? That picture says otherwise,” Emily teases.

“I was all in, back in January when we slept together…I…I don’t know. We were sitting on my bed, I was basically in his lap. I felt things…like I was eighteen again or we never had been apart. That night I was 100% in on him, on us. Now, I get this flutter in my stomach as soon as we kiss, but then it leaves and this overwhelming fear takes over. A feeling that we are making a colossal mistake.

“Mommy can I have a drink?” Taylour calls attention from the couch.

“Me too pwease!” Charlie chimes in.

Sarah nods to Tia, who gets up and grabs two sippy cups. Filling them half way with milk, she fastens the lids and walks over to the couch, handing one to Charlie.

“Thanks Teetee,” Charlie’s bright green eyes smile up at her.

“Anytime sweetie,” she smiles at her.

“Thanks Mommy.” Taylour responds, accepting his drink.

“Of course baby.”

“Take it from me, getting back with an ex never works,” Sarah speaks from her own history. She has gotten back with her ex three times since their first break up. Every time it starts good, better than before, then it implodes more violently than the last.

“You’re situation is different than hers,” Emily chimes in when Tia returns to table. Rolling her eyes that this conversation is still going on, she sits down – wishing she stayed at the couch enjoying the drama free movie night with the toddlers. “You can’t compare them.”

“Look, I’m not saying you should go one way or the other, but you can’t have your feet in two different boats.” Abby finally speaks.

“No but she can keep them side by side, heading in the same direction – like water-skis,” Emily smirks

For the first time tonight Tia laughs, actually laughs – so loud she snorts and misses Sarah’s objection.

“I appreciate everyone’s concerns and opinions on this situation, but all that matters is what is best for him,” she nods to Taylour who is now lying down. His brown eyes are getting heavy as a large yawn tumble from his lips. Tugging Geoffrey tight to his chest, he curls up under the blanket, the blue light glow from the TV reflecting off his face.

The one thing she has learned from being a mother is every single decision has to be made for Taylour. What is best for him, even if not for her.

After winning game 5 in Boston, the Leafs returned home for game six, a game where if they won and they punch their ticket to the second round. A rare 3pm game on a Sunday, Auston was hopeful Tia and Taylour would come.

The Leafs didn’t win. They didn’t come. There was no post-game text waiting for him.

Tia has a final the next day and couldn’t pull herself away from studying. With a few hours to spare until the flight for Boston, Auston jumped in his car and drove up Dundas, turned down her street and into the parking garage.

The tie from his game day suit tossed onto the passenger seat, the jacket hanging off the headrest, Auston stood in the elevator. The sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up - showing both his forearms, one covered in tattoos – he felt disappointed. Disappointed in the game. Disappointed Tia and Taylour weren’t there. Disappointed Tia doesn’t know what she wants.

Taylour beelines as soon as the door opens, slamming into his knees. “Hi Daddy.”

“What are you wearing?” Bending down to pick him up, the smile gets wider when he realizes 34 is stitched into the sleeve.

“It’s my shirt. Your shirt.” He corrects, excitement radiating through his words.

“You look great, where’d you get this?” Stepping in, he kicks off his shoes and carries Taylour to the living room and sits on the couch.

“Mommy got it for me.”

“She did?” Auston turns his attention to Tia.

“Mhm," he bashfully nods.

“Some of the other women gave it to me at the game. We put it on for that video, and he has basically lived in it since," Tia explains to him.

“Daddy, Daddy, look!” Taylour points to the bowling pins on the floor. Slipping off his lap, he walks over to the plastic bowling ball and Auston’s breath catches. He wholeheartedly believed the back would say ‘Matthews,’ no part of him thought it would say Daddy. It now makes sense, why she didn’t put it on him for the game, but god he wishes she did.

Coming back with the bowling ball, Taylour hands it to him. “You have to hit them down.”

“All of them?” Auston acts shocked.

“Yes.”

Tia left them alone.

She went to her room to study. With the door barely left open an inch, it was just him and Taylour. He must have had some pent up energy, because he destroyed the apartment in under ten minutes.

It wasn’t actually ten minutes, it was over the course of a few hours. But it didn’t take away the destruction he had left. Everything was everywhere.

One bowling pin was in the couch, the other jammed under it. His Paw Patrol, Little People and Peppa Pig figurines were scattered, a tripping hazard in the making. Puzzle pieces, blocks, card, dinosaurs, books - if Taylour owned it, it was no longer in the toy box.

Around 8 there was some shuffling from inside her room and the door opened. Stopping in her tracks she scanned around her living room. Auston was trying to clean, had told Taylour to come help, but he refused. So Auston was sitting in his blue checkered dress pants, dress shirt untucked and wrinkled, hair a mess from the post game shower and two hours chasing his son, attempting to pick up the toys, Taylour nowhere to be found.

“Where is he?” Tia asks, carefully stepping over the landmine of toys she walks to the fridge for a drink.

As if on cue, she hears a loud clattering sound from his room, plastic bouncing off the floor, followed by a perfectly timed “oops.”

Tia rolls her eyes and Auston just groans, Taylour continuing to cackle from his room,

“I’m gonna go check on him.” Leaving the mess he barely has put a dent in, he sighs. “Taylour, what are you doing?” He asks, walking towards his room.

“I’m jumping!” his little laugh echoes off the walls.

“We don’t jump on the bed,” Auston tells him. A few more bounces and he climbs off the bed, and with a devilish grin he takes off, running full tilt down the hall and onto the couch, and back to his room. Up and down the hall he runs, multiple laps all while screeching. Running into his room Auston follows, Tia not far behind.

“Oh my god,” Tia grins. Turning her attention to Auston, she quirks an eyebrow, “did you let him eat sugar? Like straight up, handfuls out of the bag?”

“No.” Crossing his arms over his chest, he leans against the doorframe, wide eyed he laughs watching Taylour continue to terrorize everything. Climbing onto his toy box, he reaches for a book. Opening it to a random page, he babbles some words and throws it onto the floor, repeating the process again. “This is fucking insane.”

“Fucking insane,” Taylour repeats absentmindedly, grabbing another book.

“Did he just?” Auston head whips to the side. He always heard people say babies are sponges, that they pick up on everything you say or do, he just didn’t realize how true it was. He knew there would be a time to watch what he said, but he thought it would be in the future, around his third birthday, maybe even later.

“Repeat you? Yes.” Tia shakes her head.

“What do we do? We…we have to talk to him…we have to…”

“Do nothing. If you make a big deal it will only inspire him to say it more.”

“What?” His voice is so loud, it captures Taylour’s attention for a split second. “If he was four or five it would be different, but he’s two, he doesn’t understand what he is saying. If we make a big deal he will keep saying it more.”

This seems ridiculous. Just a few weeks ago Tia was on him to correct his behaviour, now she is saying to do the complete opposite. He knew parenting wouldn’t be easy, but this is two conflicting recommendations. How is he supposed to a good dad when every situation, regardless of the similarities to another one, requires a different response?

There has to be some book on this he thinks to himself. Actually, I need Tia to write a book.

**

“So he terrorizes the entire apartment, asks for a story, cuddles up beside me and falls asleep in under half an hour?” Auston laughs, walking out of his room. Leaving the door left open a crack, he walks into the living room and grabs one of his large wooden puzzles and begins putting the pieces back in, repeating the process for the six other puzzles Taylour tore apart earlier.

“Yes, that’s what he does,” Tia laughs, putting the remaining dinner dishes in the dishwasher. “Sometimes he doesn’t make it to bed, falls asleep on the floor.”

“It’s crazy.”

Walking to the living room Tia pushes some of the larger toys back into the corner. Auston has all the puzzles back on the shelf and begins shovelling the toys back into the bins Taylour dumped. Throwing the pillows back on the couch, she falls into the corner.

“Don’t worry about the rest.”

Glancing around at the mess, blocks and ministicks littering the floor and under the table, ministicks, Taylour’s shirt in the corner, one sock on the kitchen table, the other yet to be found, every Tupperware container she owns strewn around the kitchen because he got into the cupboard when Auston went to the bathroom. While they have been working at cleaning up the tornado that Taylour left, they have barely even made a dent.

“Are you –“

“Yes. I accepted this place will never be clean.”

Weird, he thinks.

Tia grew up in a military house, her room was almost always perfectly kept. If she was in a rush or too tired to put things away, she did the first chance she got. She never would have left her room looking like this.”

“So how’d that class go? The one I tried things on for?”

“I think it was good, he seemed to like it. Won’t know for a bit.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah.”

Their conversations have been short. Even if he doesn’t understand where her hesitation is coming from, he is trying to provide Tia with the time she apparently desperately needs. It’s agonizing. All he wants to say is that he loves her. All he wants to hear is her say it back, at this point he would settle with her saying anything.

“You ready for summer?”

“I’m not really getting a summer,” she lets out a sigh that makes his heart clench. Forcing his gaze back to her, his eyes are soft but etched with concern. “Between the classes I dropped… and the ones I fell behind in… I won’t graduate next year if I don’t take some summer classes.”

“Shit…T…I’m sorry.”

Her heart flutters at the nickname.

“It’s not your fault,” she replies sympathetically.

“You dropped classes and failed because of the stress that article put you through. If I wasn’t here, that article wouldn’t have happened.”

“You don’t know that,” she tries to comfort him. It’s not that she believes it, just that she doesn’t blame him in any way for what happened and doesn’t want him beating himself up over it. He didn’t go the media.

“No, but it actually is –“

“Okay, maybe it is, but Taylour has his dad in his life. And if the cost of that, is me having to retake some classes, I’d pay it any day.”

She leaves out the part where she can barely afford to pay it. With the lighter summer course load she doesn’t qualify for financial aid, there are a few bursaries, but they won’t give her anywhere near the money required. Putting the course fees on her credit card, she is hovering near her limit.

Something is off. Even though she smiled when she spoke and kept her eyes soft, Auston felt there is more. Letting out a heavy, almost frustrated sigh, he lets the silence consume them.

It’s torturous.

Sitting beside her, sharing the same air, caching the way the fading sun shines against her chestnut hair. Everything he wants is right there, but she has doubts.

Tia didn’t watch the game.

After her final she went to work, her first shift in weeks. She said the break was because she and all her babysitters were busy with finals and Auston with the playoffs, and nobody thought twice about it. All of the clubs tend to have fewer women available for these weeks, but the truth is she just needed a break.

A break from the guests who think they can say whatever they want, touch wherever they want. A break from the shitty tips and snide remarks. A break from the heels. Absence makes the heart grow fonder after all.

Well, whoever coined that phrase was full of shit.

Her first shift back sucked. Students were either studying for finals or had finished and returned home for the summer. With the Leafs and Raptors both playing series clinching games, the club was relatively quiet, so quiet Tia was actually bored. Even after eleven, when both games were finished, the club was basically empty.

She has $93 in her pocket.

A night away from her son, having to do her hair and makeup and parade around in the platform heels only to get $93. That doesn’t even cover the minimum payment on her credit card, she owes Mrs. Devarro money, along with a million other building expenses.

Becks has a job lined up, starting in just under two weeks. Going to class tired was one thing, but she can’t be up until 2 or 3am, watching a kid that isn’t hers while she tries to make a good impression at her new job.

How can Tia go to work without someone to watch him at night? How can she make money if she doesn’t go to work? How can she make money if nobody tips?

Stepping out of the club, Tia pulls the hood over her hair, the smell of rain lingering in the air. All she wants is to shower and eat something substantial, but what is she supposed to eat when her cupboards are becoming bare?

$81.

Tia now has $81, having stopped to grab a pizza on the way home. She didn’t want to buy a pizza, all the grocery stores are closed at this time. Tomorrow she can buy some real food, but she needs to eat, now.

“Hey, how was your night?” Tia asks, setting the pizza on the table.

“It was fine, he told me I’m reading wrong again,” Becks huffs.

“Kids sassy.” Reaching out for the chair, Tia uses it to brace herself and slides out of her heels.

“Wonder where he got that from,” Becks teases.

“Want to watch a movie or something?” Tia asks.

“Nah, I’m pretty beat. But I will take a slice to go.”

Stepping into her bathroom she turns the water on hot, slowly beginning the process of removing her extensions.

The shower didn’t help. Water smacked her face and rolled down her body. The only time she moved was to turn the temperature up as she drained the hot water tank. It was over thirty minutes before she turned it off and wraps a warm towel around herself.

Standing in front of the chair in her room, she sifts through the pile of clean laundry she dumped there days ago when she couldn’t be bothered to fold them, finding some pajamas and a sweater. Grabbing the box of pizza, she walks to the couch and sat cross legged, flicking on the TV, hoping to find something to slow her brain. Pulling out a slice of pizza, Tia finds herself turning on highlights from the Leafs game.

They lost.

They didn’t play good, missed passes, giveaways, the frustration was evident on their faces long before the game ended. As the highlights end the feed switched to postgame interviews, Mike Babcock then Frederik Andersen. Bringing a third slice up to her mouth, she watches players give the same, cliché answers on what went wrong and what Boston did right.

Finishing her food, Tia is about to turn off the TV when Auston’s interview starts. To anyone else they would think he was frustrated with the abrupt season end, and he is. But Tia can see the pain behind his eyes, the ache in his voice he desperately tries to disguise. It breaks her heart to think of how broken he must be, to come so close only to fall short. Unlocking her phone she does something she hasn’t in over three years.

**

Lying in that generic hotel room, the exact room from four nights ago, he can’t sleep. The blind left open a crack allows flickering light from downtown Boston in, but Auston can’t be bothered to get up to close it. Instead, he lies on his back, absentmindedly staring at the stark white ceiling, his large hands rest on his lower stomach. He almost doesn’t move when his phone chimes, it has been going off all night, not wanting to dwell on his thoughts any longer, he thought the distraction might do him well.

Tia: Sorry about the loss, you played great.

He actually blinked, twice, not believing his eyes.

Auston: Thanks Tia

Walking to her apartment she flips off the TV and lights. Crawling into bed with the duvet hanging around her waist she watches the typing bubble pop up and disappear from her screen. It happens again and again and again.

Against his better judgement Auston presses the FaceTime button, and she instantly accepts.

“Hi.” The screen is mostly dark, only for a second as she fumbles with the bedside lamp. “How are you doing?”

Not bothering to lie, he lets out a defeated sigh he had been harbouring all night. “Like shit.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Thanks.”

Auston knows why he is quiet, but why is she? “You okay?”

“Just…a long night at work.” It’s not exactly a lie. “It’s nothing, I promise.” That is a lie.

“Okay.” If it was any other night he would have dug deeper, but barely holding it together himself it’s a problem for another day. “Want me to let you go?”

“No…it’s nice talking to you…even if we don’t talk.”

Smiling, he rolls onto his side. Using his bicep as a pillow he watches Tia shift in her bed, getting comfortable. There is familiar silence interspersed with the conversation. Tia’s eyes get heavier and heavier, until she can’t keep them open any longer. Eventually her slurred speech turns into heavy breathing, and finally she falls asleep.

Auston spent the next little bit in Toronto. Ignoring social media or all media really as they discuss the Leafs third straight first round exit. Locker clean out, followed up by a million questions of what comes next, if he thinks a rebuild is coming – as if he is the one to make that call.

Then came the conversations Auston was least looking forward to. His back.

Over the course of the season, pain had been lingering. There was no injury or even an incident he could pinpoint as the cause, just that one day it wasn’t there and the next it was. It continued like that at first, coming and going, then it would stay around longer and be sharper, shooting pains in his nerves, then it would go away. He played through it. It was going to take more than some pain to stop him from playing, but with the season done, the conversations started of what to do.

That answer is surgery.

During his first season with USNDTP he broke his femur, and some screws were put in to help stabilize the injury. The hope is, those screws are no longer necessary and are causing the pain, and if they remove them everything will go away.

With it scheduled for the next week, Auston wanted to spend as much time with them beforehand.

Partly because he and Tia have yet to come up with a summer plan, conversations never really going beyond “we’ll figure it out.” Hopeful of a much longer playoff run and that he and Tia would start dating, he never really tried to formulate a plan. If he and Tia were dating everything would be solved, the three of them spending time as a family, taking her on dates – all of them together, splitting their time between Toronto and Arizona.

The other reason he enjoyed spending time with Taylour was he is the only person who had no idea his season had ended. He didn’t have that sympathetic loser look on his face like everyone else did, instead he ran right into his arms and gave him a big hug. His smile and laugh were infectious, even when Auston would start to get down Taylour was right there, cheering him up.

“What are you doing?” Auston asks.

Since carrying a sleeping Taylour into her apartment a few minutes ago, Tia didn’t even get up from her kitchen table. Sitting with a tea – that long ago went cold – and her laptop in front of her, every thirty seconds she keeps clicking her mouse.

“Our grades are supposed to be posted at 3. I need to pass this one class or my graduation date is pushed back another year,” she doesn’t even look at him, once again refreshing her internet browser.

“It’s 2:40.”

“Sometimes they post them early.” She huffs, hitting the refresh button again.

Over the next couple minutes she keeps hitting the refresh button, again and again. Every time he hears the mouse click it is followed up with a frustrated groan, sometimes a muttered curse word.

“Can we talk?” He pulls the laptop away to the middle of the table. “Maybe a distraction would be good for you.”

“Is everything okay?” she asks, noting the tone.

“Yeah, we just don’t really have a plan…I’m leaving soon and I have no idea when I’m going to see my kid.” Or you he thinks.

“You can see him whenever you want, I’m not keeping him form you.”

“No I know that,” That thought never even crossed his mind. “I leave on the 29th, with my surgery I can’t fly for a few days after, so I’d be gone almost two weeks from him. We haven’t discussed it much, made a schedule or anything.”

“I don’t think we can make a schedule, or like a definitive one, my work is up in the air and I have summer classes.”

“When are your classes?”

“I have two hours every Monday and Friday for the next eight weeks, and then another class starts after that one ends, but I have no idea what days yet.”

Nodding, Auston doesn’t say anything, waiting because he knows there is more.

“I don’t think, at least for right now, he can be gone that long. He’s never spent more than one night without me, I don’t think it will go well if all of the sudden he is gone for a week.”

“Yeah I know…I was hoping…” he trails off thinking how it would just be easier if they were together. “Once I can fly it will be different because I can spend time here…but still would be nice to spend some time in Arizona with him.”

“I can’t really…flights are expensive and –“

“I’d obviously pay for the tickets.” He says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You could stay a bit so you don’t have to hop back on a plane as soon as you land.”

Reaching out for her laptop, Auston’s reflexes beat her to it and he slides it further away, laughing that she even attempted that.

“My calendar is on there.”

“Oh.” His cheeks turn a light pink and his lips curl into a small grin, sliding the laptop towards her and moves to the chair beside her, catching the faint scent of her shampoo. Opening up the calendar she stares at the dates for a bit.

“How long after your surgery would you need before you can be around a small child who climbs you like a jungle gym?”

“Uh two days until I will be walking and stuff, 3 at the most,” he chuckles.

“Okay.” Mulling it over for a minute she finally speaks. “What if we come down on Sunday? Three days after your surgery. I could fly back Tuesday morning and you could bring him back Friday.” By Tia staying for a few days it extends Taylour’s trip, increasing the length between his flights while reducing the time he has away from Tia. Her hope is by easing him into the trips apart, Taylour will gradually built up the length he can stay away.

“What about class Monday?”

“It’s online, I assume you have internet in the desert.”

“Yes the desert does have internet,” he laughs softly. “So you’re going to stay two nights?”

“Yeah…if that’s okay? You’d get more time with him and –“

“Yeah, of course,” Auston lets a smile paint his lips. Tia could stay the whole summer if she wanted and he’d be fine with it. “Get to show you around the desert.” As if he hasn’t been wanting to show her where he’s from since their first date.

“Isn’t there scorpions there? And venomous snakes?” she cautiously asks.

“And spiders.” Tia’s eyes instantly wide and Auston just grins. “They aren’t like squirrels, you rarely see them.”

“But you do see them?”

“I will make sure your desert experience excludes snakes, spiders and scorpions.” He chuckles, glancing at his watch he gives her hand a soft squeeze. “It’s 3.”

“Oh!” She almost jumps up. Minimizing the calendar she hits the refresh button. Glancing to Auston and back to her screen she clicks on “History of Design” to see an 85% displayed. Pressing the back button she clicks on “Digital Illustration for Fashion”, a class she had some struggles in. She had an assignment due not too long after the article was released which she failed, but the teacher let her redo it – with a 10% deduction. It’s unlikely she failed this class, but there were a few questions she was unsure of, it could go either way.

71%.

She lets out an exhale as Auston chuckles, “you’re such a nerd.”

“71% isn’t good,” she scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Besides I wasn’t too worried about that one, like maybe a little but it’s the last one…” trailing off her mouse hovers over the course name “Advanced Fashion Design II.”

“This is the one with the clothes you tried on. I need an 85% on that assignment just to pass the class.” Her voice is hollow and defeated, as she stares at her laptop screen.

“You definitely got an 85%. The clothes you guys made were great.”

His words do little to help ease her building anxiety. “He’s a really hard grader. Getting a 75 is the equivalent to a 90 from anyone else. If I,” trailing off, she takes a deep breath. “It’s a pre-requisite for a 4th year class, if I fail this one I have to retake it, and it’s not offered in the summer, my graduation would be pushed back an entire year for one class.”

Closing his eyes Auston releases a shaky breath. It’s his fault. If that article never came out she wouldn’t be in this situation. If he never dated Claire, or if he was literally any of the other 1.5 million men in Toronto, that article never would have been written about her.

“Tia, that’s not gonna happen.” He tries to reassure her.

Silently she reaches up and grabs the top of her laptop and begins to close it, when Auston stops her. “What are you doing?”

“I can’t…what if I failed?”

“What if you didn’t,” he counters.

“If I-“

“It would suck, but you retake the class, or maybe another school offers a similar one in the summer you could take and get credit for…but you don’t quit. You never quit.”

Tia subtly rolls her eyes. She always hated his pep talks, the eternal optimism that everything would be okay, and if it wasn’t just try again. Any time she was upset about something, he would come at her with that cliché Wayne Gretzky line “you miss 100% of the shots you don’t take.” He rarely actually said those exact words, but the speech had the same sentiment. Sometimes she just needed to vent, all she needed was for him to nod and listen, but he felt he had to fix everything.

“Either you hit the button or I will.” His tone is firm and she knows he’ll do it.

Groaning into the void, she mutters a curse word under her breath and presses on the course name, hoping her internet goes out.

It doesn’t.

“Oh my god,” she almost breaks down in tears, seeing a passing grade. It’s only a pass by 4%, but a pass nonetheless. “I passed.”

Squeezing her wrist, he watches all her stress leave and the air gets light. Following a deep breath, a smile finally spreads on her face. Bringing his other hand up, he wipes the edge of her eyes, removing the tears that hover on the surface.

“I passed,” she repeats, still in disbelief.

“Never doubted you.”

“Thanks.” Her smile hasn’t begun to fade, getting bigger with every second. She can’t peel her eyes off the screen, out of fear the grade will change if she does.

“Mommy!” Taylour calls out running towards her.

“Hiiii!” she pulls her hand back to welcome Taylour’s embrace. “I missed you.”

“I went to the zoo!”

“You went to the zoo?” her voice is high pitched, trying to match his enthusiasm. “What did you see at the zoo?”

“There was monkeys and bears and…and a giraffe.”

“Wow that sounds like fun.”

“Mhm,” he nods, clapping his hands, “so much fun!”

“Good,” she places a kiss to his temple.

“Mommy, I have a snack?”

“Of course, you want some yogurt?”

“No, I want cheese,” he grins.

She clicks her tongue. “We don’t have any cheese.”

Tia hasn’t worked since the night she made $93. She tried to last night, got on the bus and off at the stop, walked down the street towards the club. Then she stood across the street and stared at the back door. She saw Grace, Kyle, Nicole and Miranda laughing while having a smoke break.

Her feet felt as if they were encased in concrete and wouldn’t move. She wanted them to, willed them to, but they didn’t cooperate. 29 minutes she stood there. For 29 minutes chilly night air hit her face and the bass echoed off the asphalt every time the backdoor opened and closed, but her feet never moved. Finally she left, and aimlessly walked around the Toronto streets.

She could have went home. Auston had Taylour at his condo, nobody would have known she came home a half hour after leaving, but that wasn’t the path she took. It was after 4am when she finally found herself completing the familiar walk down her hall.

This morning she had to go the grocery store. Again.

She didn’t have toilet paper or laundry detergent. Those two items basically emptied the remaining cash in her wallet, and Taylour needed snacks and juice. She could have put it on her debit, but rent is coming up, the money in there barely covers it. She could have tried her credit card, but the tuition fee had but a major dent into that, at this point she didn’t know if it would get approved.

Standing in the dairy aisle she held both cheese strings and yogurt – the generic store brands that are cheaper – and did the math. She didn’t have enough for both. She already had put back the chicken breasts, and a few veggies, there was only so much she could put back though, they needed to eat. She made the decision to buy one, and yogurt being cheaper was the one she picked.

“You don’t have any?” Auston is in disbelief, within three weeks he learned that those are Taylour’s two favourite snacks, and there can never be too much in the fridge.

“I forgot to buy them at the store. Mom’s forget things too.”

The bitterness in her words catches Auston off guard. In the past few weeks he has noticed it more and more. Her cupboards becoming barer, fresh fruit and vegetables are rarely in the fridge, ramen and rice becoming common dinner options. Repeatedly, she has told him ‘I’m going shopping today,’ and at first he believed it, but after weeks of it he is starting to think maybe she hasn’t been.

**

“I…I…I miss you daddy.”

Auston’s heart splits in two. “I miss you too Taylour.”

After the playoffs ended he spent basically every other night with Taylour. Instead of dropping him off at 10am on his way to morning skate, they hung out into the afternoon. Twice he woke up to Taylour in his bed, having crawled in at some point during the night.

It was amazing, waking up to his son jumping on him, constant laughter and smiles. It was easily some of the best days ever had. He didn’t expect being gone from Taylour to be so hard, thought with the road trips he had become accustomed to being gone. The days since leaving Toronto proved that to be false.

It wasn’t too bad at first, an ache slowly building. Walking up the second day he noticed his mood had shifted. Maybe it was the realization that the season was done, but the likely option was that his entire world was over 3500 km away.

The third day was his surgery. His mom drove him to the hospital and sat in the waiting room. After she brought him home – to her house – she insisted on doing everything, even though he has crutches.

Ema wouldn’t have it.

The doctor said to stay off it for two days, and Ema is doing everything, constantly fussing over him. She has asked about 30 times if he needs anything. She had dinner ready last night, breakfast this morning and is currently in the kitchen making his favourite, chicken tortilla soup.

“When you come home?” Taylour asks, pulling the phone closer until it’s basically just on his forehead.

“You’re coming here in two days.”

Pulling the phone back Tia adjusts it to be on his entire face, as Taylour holds up two fingers. “Dis many?” he glances up to Tia who nods at him, and then back to Auston.

“Yeah bud.”

Taylour doesn’t respond right away, letting out a huff. “Dat’s too long.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Without another word he slides off Tia’s lap and silently walked over to the couch. Making no attempt to climb onto it, he sits on the floor, leaning his back against the couch he stares at the ceiling.

“I should go check on him.” Eyeing over to Taylour who is sulking with Geoffrey in his lap.

“Yeah, give him a kiss for me.”

“Of course.” Smiling, Tia ends the call and walks over to Taylour, joining him on the floor she pulls him into her lap.

Letting out a heavy groan, Auston throws the phone beside him and runs his hand through his hair. Two weeks ago he thought he had everything he wanted, and now it feels like he has nothing. His relationship with Tia – assuming you can call it that - barely hangs on by a thread, his heart shatters thinking about Taylour, and having to be gone from him throughout the summer.

“Daddy!” Taylour shrieks from the escalator. Tugging on Tia’s hand, she tightens her grip, holding him back.

“Just a second Taylour,” she takes a deep breath, in through the nose and out through her mouth. Wearing the Paw Patrol backpack that contains some books and some toys meant to occupy Taylour on the plane, they step off the escalator.

Auston instantly heard Taylour’s voice. Shuffling on his feet, he glanced around the terminal trying to spot them through the crowd, adrenaline running high. Firmly grasping his hand, Tia is barely able to hold him back. Finally within a few feet she releases Taylour’s hand he runs right to Auston, squealing. “Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!”

“Hey Taylour.” Picking him up he presses a kiss to his cheek, Taylour giggles against him.

“I missed you daddy!” Taylour gently plays with the chain around Auston’s neck, tugging the metal out from under his t-shirt.

“I missed you too!”

“You gotta be careful,” Tia warns, wheeling a large suitcase behind her.

“Can you tell mommy she worries too much?” Auston’s tone is teasing.

“You worry too much mommy,” Taylour repeats, giggling.

“And Daddy just had surgery.”

“Hardly, it was only an hour.” Reaching out for the handle Tia gently swats his hand away.

“You’re not supposed to be carrying toddlers or heavy suitcases.”

“It’s fine Tia.” He rolls his eyes.

She doesn’t give in, tightly grasping the handle of the outdated suitcase she stole from her dad when she left Zurich. “You have fun on the airplane?” Auston bounces Taylour on his hip. Reluctantly accepting defeat, he turns around and begins the trek back to the parking garage.

“No,” Taylour coyly replies.

“No?” Auston turns to Tia, looking for an explanation.

“Taking off and landing did not go well.” Tia says a little bitterly as she gets slapped in the face with the hot and dry Arizona air. “I thought once we got up in the air he would be better, didn’t happen.”

Tia knew the plane ride likely would be disastrous. She brought books and toys, had her phone fully charged – Paw Patrol and various movies downloaded on it - drinks and snacks, even a colouring book. She googled tips and tricks for flying with a toddler, prepared as best she could.

She anticipated him struggling with the pressure change during take off and landing, but was hopeful it would be okay for the remainder of the flight. He cried, fussed, hated having to stay seated. Nothing seemed to keep him satisfied. The only redeeming aspect, was Auston bought them first class seats, meaning there was nobody directly beside them judging her for Taylour’s meltdown. Not that the woman in front of them didn’t send Tia the dirtiest look when she went to the bathroom, but at least the looks were limited.

Opening the hatch, Tia tosses in the suitcase as Auston buckles Taylour in to his car seat. “The bus was late and we almost missed the shuttle to the airport.”

Wrapping his arm around her, he forces her to take a breath, and then another. “I’m sorry T.” Resting his chin on her head, they take a few deep exhales. Waiting until her breathing matches his, he finally speaks. “I told you to use my car, I don’t need it while I’m here.”

“Yeah,” she softly replies against him, not willing to tell him that the monthly insurance is more than what she spends on groceries. “I’m fine, it was just a long morning.”

“Okay.”

“I need coffee.”

“Okay,” he nods.

The drive from Phoenix to Scottsdale was short. A few red lights, stop signs, a little bit of traffic. The longest part was actually the drive thru to get Tia her coffee, and Taylour the hot chocolate he wanted even though its almost 90°F. He also wanted a snack, and couldn’t wait twenty minutes, so Auston ordered him a breakfast sandwich, which he only had four bites of.

“Where’s Paw Patrol?” Taylour pouts, standing in the doorway of his new room.

Auston brought down some of his favourite toys from Toronto, along with books and any clothes that can be worn in the Arizona heat. He knows his mom bought an abundance of stuff for Taylour, and anything else he needs he’ll just buy. He considered painting the walls and decorating the space to make it more playful and fun, but he is in the market for a house. It seemed redundant to paint an prepare a bedroom Taylour will barely use, so Auston decided to let it be for now, and once he has a house he will make that one even better than his space in Toronto. It seemed like a good idea, but hearing Taylour’s disappointment he now wishes he bought a comforter or a rug at the very least.

“That’s at my other house,” Auston explains.

Taylour didn’t wait for the response, slowly walking into the bedroom, taking in his new room. It’s relatively basic, a double bed with a matching dresser that Auston shoved into the corner to make room for a new toy box he knows once emptied will stay that way.

“So um, this place only has two bedrooms,” Auston explains, his hands shoved into pockets as he shuffles on his feet. “I’m looking at some houses but it will be a bit until I move.”

“That’s fine,” Tia grins. “I like cuddling with him…even if he does elbow me in the rib every twenty seconds.”

Auston is just as upset about that, as Taylour is about the room. It’s been over two weeks since she said she needed time. If she was willing to share his bed, even if absolutely nothing happened between them, it would mean she is beginning to come to a decision.

The longer she takes, the more doubt Auston has.

'I just need time'

Auston has been feeding that line to girls in the years since leaving Zurich. He told it to Claire less than three months ago, nine months ago it was Brooke in Arizona - he just jumped on a plane to Toronto without another word - four months before her it was Jade. In his experience nobody says they want space and comes back wanting to work things out. There is no driving with one foot on the break, another on the gas.

“Mommy I want to swim,” Taylour whines. His head rests against Auston’s shoulder, eyes heavy and struggling to stay open as they ride the elevator up to Auston’s floor. Since going down to the pool almost six hours ago, they barely managed to get him out of the water. Auston made some sandwiches and brought them down for lunch, getting him out of the water long enough to eat them and to reapply sunscreen was a struggle.

“Okay,” she grins, knowing he might not even make it through dinner.

Stepping into the condo, Auston takes him to the bathroom. Stripping him out of his wet bathing suit, Auston hangs it to dry and pulls on some pajamas, laughing at the never ending yawns.

“Tired?” Auston grins, pulling the shirt over his head.

“No.” His eyes are barely open as he struggles to put his arms through the arm hole.

“You sure?” Auston chuckles, picking him up.

“No Daddy.” Another yawn. “I want to swim.”

Stepping in to the kitchen, Tia has just finished cutting up Taylour’s food. About a half hour ago - not willing to eat something Auston cooked - she left him to watch Taylour and made dinner. Surprisingly there was fresh vegetables in the fridge as well as some chicken breasts. With everything she managed to make a salad to accompany the chicken fettuccini she made.

“Dinner’s ready.”

“Dinner?” his eyes flutter open, but slowly begin to droop shut as Auston places him in the high chair. Auston and Tia each grab a plate of food and sit at the island, trying to engage in a conversation with Taylour to keep him awake long enough to finish dinner.

They knew the time change would be hard. It was one of Tia’s concerns about flying him back and forth and for such short durations. There is no way for him not to be impacted by it, at this point they just hope he either naps in the afternoon or stays up late enough that he doesn’t wake up at 5am every day.

“Well he ate more than I thought,” Tia laughs, nodding to Taylour. He is fast asleep with his head leaning against the back of the highchair, mouth wide open and dinner only half eaten.

“Well he also ate a million snacks this afternoon.”

“As toddlers do.”

They let him sleep while they continue eating, knowing nothing short of an earthquake would wake him from his sleep. For the first time since arriving Auston is alone with Tia. He knew this would happen, it doesn’t help the nerves from building inside him. His stomach flutters and palms get clammy simultaneously, hopeful that maybe with the time together Tia will admit her feelings.

“That was great, thanks T.” Standing up and clearing his plate, his hand gently runs over her back, causing it to stiffen.

“Yeah,” she replies, struggling to not let her voice crack. “I’m gonna take him to bed.” Taylour barely moved as Tia pulled him from the highchair, and didn’t make a sound as she set him in bed.

Hairs on the nape of her neck stand upright, goosebumps pricking along her arms. While packing for Arizona, Tia packed for warmth. Shorts, flowy dresses, sandals, bathing suits, they all made sense. What she didn’t account for was the air conditioning to be blasting. Even the pajama’s she packed are shorts, luckily there was one pair of leggings she threw in at the last minute, but they do little to counteract the cool air pumping through the vents.

Sighing, she walks into Auston’s room. Just like his place in Toronto, it’s simple. A bed in the middle with a few pillows on top. White walls, with a plain grey duvet. Two side tables - dark espresso coloured wood flank the bed, a dresser sits across the bed with a TV mounted above it.

Walking by the walk in closet, assuming what she is searching for resides in the dresser, she notices there are no pictures, no artwork or plants, no indication that he really spends much time here. It is the epitome of a bachelor pad, a young single guy with no idea how to decorate, or one that can’t be bothered to do so.

Opening the first drawer she finds a bunch of shorts and a few bathing suits, the second is full of t-shirts. Finally she comes across what she is looking for, sweaters. Paying no attention to what sweater she grabbed, she pulls it over her messy bun, - still damp from swimming - and lets it hang from her torso. About to head back, she reopens one of the drawers from before and finds a pair of thick socks and pulls them over her feet.

Walking back into the kitchen Auston has just finished loading the dishwasher, the remnants of dinner cleaned. Pulling it closed his eyes linger on Tia. Auston slowly rounds the counter, his dark eyes never leaving her as he comes to stand in front of her. He’s so close he can easily reach out and touch her, but his hands remain locked at his sides, waiting for her to react, remembering what happened last time he moved first.

“That my sweater?” he asks softly, Tia’s cheeks grow hot at his questioning.

“Yeah, sorry, I was cold, didn’t account for indoor temperatures,” she explains, giving each sleeve a tug as she begins to shimmy out of it, but Auston’s voice stops her

“Don’t.” His comment tethers her to the spot, and for a moment they’re both frozen, simply staring at each other. Bringing his hand up, he runs it along the outside of the navy blue cotton sleeve, drawing it up he finds the stitching near the shoulder. “Just remembering the last time you wore this,” he explains, voice soft as he trails off, that night replaying vibrantly in his brain.

“Movie?” He shakes his head, hoping that didn’t actually come out of his mouth, or at the very least she didn’t hear it.

“Um yeah.” Her body is still frozen. It’s not until the soft breeze of him walking by, blows against her face that she looks down to see what she grabbed from his dresser. His team USA sweater from the world junior tournament.

**

“T, baby, you’re gonna wake my mom,” Auston whispered, popping his head up from between her legs.

“She’s down the hall, she can’t hear us.” Tia bit her bottom lip in an attempt to suppress her moans, but it was no use. Auston rotated his fingers ever so slightly and thrusted them back inside, brushing against her g-spot. His hot, wet lips were soft against her stomach, tingling against her skin. Occasionally his tongue peeked out, licking around her navel as he continued to thrust his fingers in and out of her warmth.

“Tia,” he softly sang, “you’re being too loud.���

“Then get up here and do something about it,” she sassed a little too sharply.

Grinning, he slowly climbed up her body, licking a trail up her stomach. Stopping at her breast, he grazed his teeth around her hardened nipple, wrapping his entire mouth around it. “Aus,” she whined, digging her freshly manicured nails into his hair she tugged harder, trying to draw him up faster.

“Relax, I’m coming,” he smirked. Continuing to thrust his fingers inside her heat, his dick twitched against her thigh with every sound he drew from her lower lips.

Crashing his lips against hers, he swallowed all the moans she had poorly been stifling for the last ten minutes. “Baby,” she breathed, pulling away for some air. “I need you…now.”

“But –“ he tried to protest, knowing her orgasm is close.

Writhing under him with a firm grip on his hair, she stood firm, “Aus…please.”

Stilling his wrist, he sighed. Those three letters, the first syllable of his name, anytime she says them, it does something to him. He can’t explain it, but she could ask him to do anything, and as long as she added in that pet name he would say yes, no matter how ridiculous it may be.

“You’re lucky I love you.”

With a wide smile and heavy blush, she reached over to the bedside table when Auston’s athletic reflexes beat her, and pinned her hand above her head. “We didn’t need one in Ryan’s bathroom earlier,” a ring of fire surrounds his blown pupils. “What’s changed in the last three hours?”

“We have condoms now,” she laughed.

“You felt incredible without one,” he explained, heat hitting his cheeks from the alcohol. Releasing her wrist, he reached into the drawer and pulled out the box, one single condom falling out onto the bed.

“If we use that now, we can’t tomorrow morning,” Tia laughed, grinning widely up at him.

“Only if you’re sure.”

While he knows Tia is on birth control, he also knows one person shouldn’t be fully responsible for using it. On top of that, she is just getting on it, if the side effects become too much or she doesn’t want to use it, he doesn’t want her to feel trapped in the decision to use the pill.

“100% babe,” she smiled with a nod. Taking the foil wrapper she set it on the table “Lets save it for tomorrow.”

Lining his leaking tip to her core, he rubbed the head of his cock through her slick, coating it with the mess. His lips found hers for a fiery, passionate kiss. He swallowed her moan as his length split her folds, not letting up until he’s fully seethed inside of her. A strangled groan tumbled from her lips, before catching in her throat right as Auston started to move. Grabbing the elbow of the hand in his hair, he forced it down to the mattress and interlocked both his hands with hers.

Sloppy kisses are accompanied by deep, but thorough thrusts, ensuring to hit her g-spot with every stroke. If she wasn’t close before, she certainly is now, barely keeping her composure as Auston teased her orgasm. Pulling away, he licked a stripe up her neck, followed by a suck on her earlobe he whispered, “cum for me T.”

“Aus,” she pleaded, barely hanging on.

“I want to feel you cum on my cock,” he rasped through a husky voice. “I want to watch your pretty face fall apart.”

“Baby…I.” the words die on her tongue as her orgasm explodes.

Everything went white and static fizzled behind her ears, fireworks erupted throughout her body. Tightening the grip on her hands, Auston pulled back, watching as her eyes fluttered and her mouth fell into a silent ‘O.’ Following her orgasm, Auston exploded, coating her walls with his sticky white seed.

He collapsed on her, dick still firmly buried inside while they captured their breaths. After a few minutes, Auston released her hands and pulled back, only to see her eyes were still closed and her breathing has begun to steady.

“Let get cleaned up.”

He placed a soft kiss to her lips, chuckling when he is met only by a faint moan. Pulling out and climbing away, Auston cleaned himself and pulled on a clean pair of boxers and plain t-shirt. Grabbing a wash cloth, he dampened it in the sink and made his way to Tia, who had barely moved. Spreading her legs open, she gasped when the cool air hit her sensitive heat, and only then did her dark and heavy eyes open.

“Aus,” she whimpered.

“Its okay babe, I got you.” Gently wiping the mess between her legs and off the inside of her thighs, he tossed the washcloth into his hamper and walked to his dresser to find her some clothes for the night. Shifting in the bed, she watched as he opened his drawer and pulled out a plain black hoodie.

“No,” she mumbled, “you’re USA one.”

Tossing the sweater back in, he grabbed the one she wants and a pair of boxers. Lifting her hips, Auston gently pulled the boxers up her legs, struggling to not get hard thinking of her in his underwear. She reluctantly pushed herself up and put her hands above her head, allowing him the access to pull his sweater on.

“Why this one?” he asked, knowing her favourite sweater is his ZSC lions hoodie, the same one that conveniently went ‘missing’ a few weeks ago. Beyond that sweater, Tia has never cared about what one she wore.

“Feeling nostalgic I guess,” she referenced their first time.

Leaning down he brushed his lips against hers, and followed as she slowly fell against the mattress. Curling beside her, he wrapped an arm around her core, and rested his head in the crook of her neck.

“You sure your mom’s okay with me staying here?”

“She knew we were drinking and your dad is out of town. She would kill me if I let you go home to an empty house.”

“No I know that,” Tia explained, Ema text her earlier and offered for her to spend the night, citing those exact reasons. “I mean like here, in your bed.”

“She didn’t say anything otherwise…its fine babe, just go to sleep.” Auston’s words slow and breathing steadies as he drifted off beside her.

**

She is pushed from her thoughts when Auston calls out from the couch, asking if she is going to join him. The TV already on, two glasses of water sitting on the table, even a blanket waiting for her.

“Yeah.”

Trying to shake the memory of Taylour’s conception from her mind, Tia walks over to the couch and settles to the other side. Only problem is she can’t shake it, she can only think about that night. The bathroom, his bedroom, and the morning after, when they did in fact make use of that condom, before joining his family for breakfast, Tia still wearing the sweater.

That night and morning, she was so at ease, it was one of the last times she felt she belonged with the Matthews’. She can’t help but think of how much has changed. How that morning she had breakfast with what she thought was her future husband and in-laws. He had an arm around her, placed a few kisses to her temple, laughed and smiled the entire time. They told Ema about the party, about how Ryan and his entire line thought they could stand on the dining room table only to have the entire thing collapse under them. Her cheeks hurt from laughing, her heart was practically bursting.

It was amazing but it was also when everything began to change.

There was an unknown fifth guest who had just begun to bloom inside her womb. Auston had that day off, but it was the last one before the playoff run. Her father was working on his plan to cut Auston out of her life, or maybe he already had the details finalized at this point. Sitting at the table eating breakfast while wearing the same sweater she currently has on, it was the last time everything made sense.

She spends the entire night thinking of those 24 hours, and how everything has completely changed. How in under four years, what was once her favourite morning is now tainted with a heavy darkness.

“Mommy watch!” Taylour screams, jumping off the edge of the pool while spinning and landing in the water.

“Wow, so cool!” she grins for the hundredth time.

He woke Tia up early, before 6, demanding breakfast and to go swimming. When she said it was too early to go swimming, Taylour ran into Auston’s room and woke him up saying the same thing. They took their time making breakfast, and managed to distract him with Paw Patrol and Peppa pig while Tia had class, but by 11:30 he was at the front door, trying to pull open the heavy metal frame, threatening to take himself swimming.

“You’re like a fish,” Auston teases.

“You come swim Daddy?” Taylour begs, just like he did twenty minutes ago, and twenty minutes before that. Kicking his feet and wearing water wings, he swims around the pool in circles.”

“I can’t because of my knee bud.”

Climbing out of the pool, Tia walks across the concrete towards Auston. The sun hits the beads of water that glisten off her warm skin, slowly trickling behind the red fabric of her bathing suit.

While a one piece, the deep plunge in the front perfectly accentuates her breasts which peak out around the edges. A low back with crisscross tie, modest and practical for entertaining a two year old, yet sexy in a subtle way. Popping against her complexion, showing just enough to remind Auston of what’s underneath, Auston is thankful for his sunglasses, since he can’t keep his eyes off her.

Fuck.

That was Auston’s first thought when she peeled her dress off and tossed it in the chair. He knew she’d look good, she always did, but he didn’t expect her to look that good.

It’s not fair.

“Can you put some sunscreen on my back?” Tia asks, walking over to Auston.

“Yeah.”

Sitting up, Tia sits on the edge of his chair, tilting to give him a better angle. He thought it sucked looking at her, but this is significantly worse, sliding his hand under the bathing suit in case it shifts, up to her shoulders, fuck that was even worse. Feeling her warm skin, seeing her exposed neck begging to be kissed.

“Oh thank god,” Tia breathes, seeing a family with a son around Taylour’s age coming to the pool. “I’m so tired.”

Like yesterday, Taylour has barely left the pool for food, water or sunscreen, constantly groaning when Tia pulled him out for even five minutes. Tia has spent most of her time in the pool, sometimes on the edge with her feet dangling in the water, but she has been his primary source of entertainment. No slide or pool activities, nobody else in the water, and Auston unable to join him, she had to be in the water. It’s been hours, and he just hasn’t stopped.

“Take a nap.” Auston finishes rubbing the sunscreen in on her back and puts the cap back on. “I’ll keep an eye on him.”

“You can’t swim.”

“He’s gonna play with that kid, and if something happens you know I’d be in there regardless of what any doctor says.”

“I’m just gonna close my eyes for a few minutes, I won’t sleep out here.”

She lies back, occupying the free space of his chair. Taking his sunglasses off, he squints trying to let his eyes adjust to the sun, slowly slipping the Ray-Bans on her face. “Thanks,” she says faintly, as he brushes some stray hairs away.

Climbing out of the chair, Auston walks over to one closer to the edge of the pool. “Daddy this is Drew, he’s my friend.”

“Oh yeah,” Auston smiles.

“Mhm, Drew has a puppy.”

“What’s the puppy’s name?” Auston asks.

“Oscar,” Drew tells him, kicking his feet while holding a pool noodle.

“He’s a big Oscar the Grouch fan,” Drew’s dad tells him, setting some towels down at one of the tables.

“Wanna race?” Drew asks Taylour, his eyes going wide with excitement as he nods.

**

They swam, they raced, and they played. Auston chatted a little with Drew’s parents, Tia actually managed to doze off for a bit. Auston, noticed the sun had shifted and she was completely in the sun. Having only reapplied sunscreen on her back, he walked over and draped a towel over her front to prevent her from getting burned.

Around 5, Drew and his family left the pool. Taylour’s eyes were heavy and red, it could have been from the chlorine, but constant yawns were falling from his lips.

“We got to go in soon,” Auston calls out from the patio, “have to make dinner.”

“Noooo,” Taylour whines, continuing to flutter around with his water wings.

“Five more minutes,” Tia adds in. “Time for a bath.”

“But Mommy I swim, I clean.”

“We have to get the chlorine off you,” Tia counters his protest. Pulling him onto her hip, he starts to kick out his legs as Tia carries him out of the pool.

“No, I don’t want to.”

Handing Taylour to Auston, who wraps him in a large plush towel, Tia brings another one to herself, drying of her legs and back then pulling her dress back over top.

“You go have a bath and I’ll make you dinner,” Auston brushes his damp hair off his forehead. “And maybe after dinner we can have ice cream.”

His eyes go wide at the promise of ice cream, but the enthusiasm is short lived.

He cried the whole way to the elevator, and during the entire elevator ride. He cried when Auston passed him to Tia, when she carried him down the hall. He cried when the bathroom door opened and closed, when she stripped his bathing suit off, and when she set him in the tub.

“Mommy noooo!”

Taylour whines as she tries to massage shampoo into his hair. “Moommmmy! STOP!” he cries.

“We’re almost done,” Tia sighs, “just tilt your head back so I can wash out the shampoo then we’re done.”

“Nooooooo!” he shouts, smacking his hands against the water causing a huge splash to hit Tia in the face. Tilting his head back Tia turns on the water and grabs the detachable showerhead. As the stream hits his face, Taylour jolts forward and suds roll into his eyes which is accompanied by an ear piercing shriek.

“It’s okay,” Tia tries to soothe him, but Taylour doesn’t hear a word of it, cries getting louder and louder. Grabbing a washcloth and running it under the water she brings it up to his face, and starts wiping it clean. Repeating the process as best she can while fighting a screaming toddler who is squirming in the tub.

“You’re okay Taylour,” her tone stays soft, trying to console him until finally all the shampoo is gone from his eyes. Reaching for the drain stopper, Tia releases it and grabs a towel from the closet.

Standing up to allow Tia to wrap a towel around him, he whimpers “I want ice cream.”

Rubbing her hand over the towel, gently warming and drying him, Tia pulls him into her grasp and takes him to the bedroom. Pulling on his night diaper and the Paw Patrol pajamas, she lets him go find Auston so she can have a quick shower and get changed.

“Is that good?”

“No,” Taylour mumbles, taking another reluctant bite.

“Its chicken nuggets and fries, how is that bad?” Auston mutters bitterly. Grabbing the baking sheet he sets it in the open dishwasher, and kicks it closed with his foot.

“You bought whole wheat nuggets,” Alex laughs at him.

“Just trying to make his toddler diet healthier.”

Rolling her eyes, Alex doesn’t even acknowledge how ridiculous that is. “So, what are you guys doing tonight?” Alex asks, sitting at the island beside Taylour.

“Just –“

“Oh didn’t think I needed a shower that bad.” Tia grabs the towel off her head, letting damp strands of charcoal brown hair fall against the oversized sweater she once again borrowed from Auston. Tia stops completely in her tracks upon seeing Alex sitting beside Taylour.

Auston didn’t tell her she was coming, and now, seeing the shock on her face he is regretting that decision. Tia obviously knew Taylour would be around his family, but maybe she assumed she wouldn’t have to cross paths with them.

“Hi Tia,” Alex walks over to her and gives her a hug.

After the ridiculous amount of awkwardness at the Leafs game, Alex walked in here refusing to let that happen again. Regardless of what her parents think, she knows that Tia didn’t block him or purposely keep Taylour from them. She doesn’t know the details, mainly because Auston hasn’t told her, but that doesn’t really matter. Tia didn’t block Auston and keep him from Taylour, and more importantly she can tell Auston is falling for her again.

“Ohmygod Alex,” Tia’s welcomes the embrace. “Hi.”

“Sorry about the game, I wanted to say hi but I was just so surprised when you ran into me I forgot how to human.”

“No worries, I forgot too.” Tia laughs, releasing Alex from her hug. “You should have come by sooner, he’s gonna be asleep soon.”

“I’m sure she will have lots of time this summer to spend with him.”

“I want my ice cream,” Taylour aggressively shoves his plate to the edge of his highchair.

“Eat one more nugget,” Auston interjects, noticing he has barely touched his dinner.

“No, I want ice cream,” Taylour huffs, his eyes getting heavier with every second.

“One more nugget,” Auston tries to stay firm, but Taylour pushes the plate further until it falls off the high chair and lands on the island counter.

“That’s why you tell the two year old of ice cream after dinner,” Tia tells Auston, earning a smirk from Alex.

“Or you don’t buy whole wheat nuggets for him.”

“Ew, who does that?” Tia crinkles her nose, glaring at Auston.

“I forgot how much I hate the two of you together,” Auston rolls his eyes. Walking to the freezer he tugs it open and pulls it open, dropping the ice cream onto the counter he mutters something under his breath.

“So, what have you been doing?” Tia asks, pulling her gaze away from Auston and back to Alex.

Alex begins to fill Tia in on her life over the past few years. Since finishing college she has been considering becoming a social media influencer. With an active YouTube page she is considering moving onto Instagram and brand engagements. They talk a little about Bree who is almost done her junior year of high school. About the guy Alex has been seeing, even if Auston begs them to stop.

“Yes daddy!” Taylour claps his hands watching Auston scoop ice cream into the bowl.

“Do you hate us?” Tia scolds as he squirts a little whipped cream on top. “I don’t want to deal with him after that.”

“Auston didn’t tell you?” Alex asks, her gaze shifting between them two of them.

“Tell me what?”

Tia’s eyes now dart between the two of them. Watching as he brings the bowl in front of Taylour whose eyes are brighter than a Christmas tree.

“We’re going to dinner. Dry your hair and get dressed, I’m gonna shower quick.” Not giving her a chance to object Auston walks down the hall and shuts the bathroom door, turning on the shower.

“Mmmm, Mommy it’s good.” Taylour shovels another bite into his mouth.

“Can I have a bite?” she asks.

“Yes,” Taylour nods, holding out the spoon. Taking it from him, Tia takes a large bite, trying to limit the amount Taylour eats with hopes of saving Alex from a toddler who has more sugar than blood in his veins.

“That is good.” She passes the spoon back.

Leaving the bathroom after drying her hair, Tia saw Auston in a pair of khaki’s with a collared Gucci t-shirt tucked into his pants, Chanel belt around his waist. How is she supposed to go anywhere with him when her entire suitcase costs less than his shirt.

“I’m hungry, hurry up,” Auston teases, knocking on the door.

“I don’t have clothes,” She huffs, tossing a pair of jean shorts back into the bag.

Stepping in to the room, Tia hears Taylour start to cry from the living room. “She just told him he can’t go swimming,” Auston explains.

“We can’t leave him,” Tia concedes, hearing his cries get louder and sharper. “Not like this.”

“He’ll be asleep in ten minutes, which is another reason you need to hurry.” Walking in from the door Tia slowly begins to smell his woodsy cologne. Reaching in to her bag, he pulls out an olive coloured dress. It’s a very relaxed fit, with an almost t-shirt style top and skirt that ends above her knees. It’s not form fitting, a very loose waist - no flare. She brought it to wear over a bathing suit, figured it would be fine for an elevator ride and a few steps to the pool. “This is fine,” he shrugs, it’s not because he doesn’t care, but because he knows she looks great in anything.

“Fine…I don’t want to look fine.” She scoffs bitterly, eyeing him up, knowing she would stand out beside him. “If you told me I could have packed something –“

“This has pockets,” Auston interjects, not really listening to her objections. “Weren’t you always complaining about how women’s clothing doesn’t have pockets?”

Tia’s eyes narrow and her brows furrow. “What?” she huffs, becoming agitated.

“Look this place isn’t a dress code place, or overly fancy. You could wear what you have on and nobody would even notice.”

No way, Tia thinks eyeing to Auston’s oversized sweater and leggings she is wearing. “I just decided to put this on, so maybe for once, you won’t berate my clothing choice. But this is fine,” he holds up the dress, “or this,” he picks up the dress she wore to the pool yesterday, “or this,” he pulls out her navy t-shirt. “Any of this works. Stop being a fashion major and be normal for once.”

“Stop being a fashion major?” she chastised. “Stop being a hockey player, mister I bought my two year old whole wheat chicken nuggets,” she mutters under her breath. Taking the clothes from him, she starts to gently shove him towards the door. Laughing, because he did in fact hear what she said, he steps into the hall and closes the door.

“What are we doing?” she asks, finally in the elevator.

“Just grabbing dinner.” He shrugs, flicking his eyes over her. She did wear the olive dress, but pulled a belt around her waist, attempting to give it more shape and paired it with some wedged sandals.

“You don’t have food here?”

“No, you said my whole wheat nuggets are gross.”

The drive is quiet, Auston’s rap music softly playing over the speakers. Tia stares out the passenger window watching the cars, people and buildings pass by. Auston, with his hands on the wheel, constantly darts his eyes from the road to her. It doesn’t feel tense, like the car ride after the playoff game, it feels familiar, normal, like everything is happening the way it should. Putting the car in park, they step out of the car, and with one hand on her back he guides her through the doors.

“Hi,” the hostess greets him. Not them, him. Wearing a tight black shirt, tucked into her black leggings, her blonde hair perfectly frames her face. The makeup on her eyes is dark, lips painted a neutral shade, she doesn’t even acknowledge Tia. Her gaze stays locked on Auston, smile only directed toward him. “How are you tonight?”

“I’m good, and you?” Auston politely replies.

“I’m good, thank you.” She flashes her pearly whites once again to him. “Do you have a reservation?”

“Yes, Auston, for two.”

Finally she flicks her eyes to Tia, briefly drawing them up and down her outfit, before pulling them back to the list in front of her. “Right this way Mr. Matthews,” she grabs two menu’s and begins weaving through the restaurant, finding a booth in the back corner, tucked away from everyone. Tia instantly realizes this planned, likely before she even left Toronto.

“Thank you,” Tia’s voice is barely above a whisper.

“Tara will be your server,” she explains, setting a menu in front of them. “But if you have any questions, feel free to ask.”

“I think we’re good,” Auston smiles politely.

“Enjoy your dinner.” With what could be considered an unprofessional wink, she steps away, the heel on her boots clicking against the wood as she makes her way back to the front.

“Could she have been any more obvious?” Tia mutters, grabbing the menu she begins scanning over it.

Auston shifts closer to the corner, closing the space between them. “What?” he asks.

“She was flirting with you…very obviously.”

“Hmm, didn’t notice,” he shrugs it off.

Bringing her eyes up to his, she doesn’t know if he is that oblivious or playing dumb. “Seriously?” she scoffs.

“Seem to remember you flirting with a customer,” Auston grins, setting the menu down he looks up at her. The soft glow from the overhead pendant light shines against her curly hair, a faint blush burns hot on her cheeks that she is trying to hide.

“Never in front of other customers,” she counters, fighting the smile. “I always was professional around other customers.”

“O-“

“I mean there was the one time I cried in front of a customer …But that? I would never do that.”

“You cried in front of a customer?” His entire mood shifts, instead of being light and fun, worry begins to set in.

“Yeah I was eight months pregnant, the café had these amazing blueberry scones, like…they were phenomenal,” she almost drools remembering it. “If there was food left at the end of the night I could take it home, and with ten minutes until close there was one left.”

“Someone ordered it?” he gauges.

“Yeah a fifteen year old kid. I tried to hold it in but my hormones wouldn’t let me, I broke down handing this kid his bag. Like full on sobbing, ugly crying, sniffles, it sucked.”

“Oh my god,” he finally laughs, realizing the story isn’t nearly as bad as he anticipated. “How did the kid take it?”

“He was horrified, face went white. He had no idea what to do…I gave it to him for free and he practically sprinted out, never saw him again.”

Auston doesn’t know much about her pregnancy, the struggles she went through. Obviously he knows of the financial hardships she faced, but he knows nothing of her cravings, sleepless nights. Did she have any swelling or pain in her back? This story, while it barely provides insight into that time, is the most he really knows.

“So, Mr. Matthews, what’s good here?” Tia grins, bringing her attention back to the menu.

Mr. Matthews.

Auston has heard that before, restaurants and high-end clothing stores in Toronto, LA and even Arizona, but it has never felt so good coming from Tia.

“Never been here,” he laughs to hide the heat on his cheeks. “Oyster are probably a good place to start,” eyeing to the name on the menu, ‘Modern Oyster Bar & Chophouse.’

“Never had them.”

“No?”

“Kinda out of the budget of a single mom enrolled in university,”

Shaking his head he bites his tongue. What he wants to say is if she accepted money from him she could have nights like this Toronto. Her and Becks, or with some of the girls from the club, maybe even nights with him, all she has to do is allow it.

She is stubborn, and Auston hates it. He hates that he can’t fight her on it, because he still holds out hope that once they start dating she will lower all her walls. He hates Claire for going to the paper and getting that stupid article published. He hates himself for dating Claire, and then not properly ending things with her. He hates that three years ago she would have came to him for help the second she needed it, and now he isn’t even an option when she runs into trouble. He hates Tia and her stupid pride. He hates everything about this.

**

“Oh god,” Tia coughs, swallowing the oyster. Reaching out for her wine she takes a generous gulp, followed by another. “People like these? You like these?”

“Yeah but…” trailing off he reaches out for a different one and grabs some mignonette sauce and sprinkles a little on it. “It’s better like this.”

Bringing the oyster to her mouth he can see her hesitation. Eyeing to the oyster, and then to him she sighs and moves closer, opening her mouth as he brings it to her lips. Letting it fall in, her nose scrunches up as she chews the oyster. Reluctantly swallowing, she follows it up by the rest of her wine. Grabbing the bottle he ordered, Auston tops up her glass, laughing as she takes another big swig.

“That did not make it any better.”

Turning to face him with a wide grin, Auston notices some of the sauce on the side of her lips. Bringing his thumb up, he presses the pad of it to her skin, wiping it away. Flicking his eyes gently over her, taking in the soft light that bring out the halo around her eyes, it almost feels as though time stands still. Auston no longer hears the music playing or the low chatter of the other tables, he no longer feels anxious or tense. The anger from before faded with every laugh and smile.

“How were the oysters?” Tara asks. Auston’s lets out a defeated breath following the intrusion, and lets his finger fall from her cheek.

“They were good,” Auston turns to smile at her.

“They were good,” Auston drops his hand, turning his attention to the waiter. “Really good.”

“Excellent, are we ready to order?” she grabs the empty plate and clears space from the table.

**

Tia drank the entire bottle of wine. Well, Auston had one glass - minus the sip Tia took from it to cleanse her pallet of the slimy oyster texture. There was a constant smile on her face, a flush in her cheeks caused from the alcohol. Her body migrated closer, almost tucked under his arm, close enough for him to breathe in her shampoo.

Her eyes constantly flick over his deep brown orbs, they can’t stop laughing. Auston didn’t even know what they were laughing at anymore, but Tia was practically gasping for air and wiping some tears from her eyes by the end of it.

Paying the bill he guided her towards the passenger side door. He held it open and softly closed it behind her, and started the twenty minute drive home. At this point the sun was setting, orange and red hues flooding the sky. Grabbing his phone, she scrolled through his playlist, like always criticizing his music taste, telling him to expand to other genres. His music taste has evolved in the last few years, she just happened to pick the playlist that heavily focusses on rap.

She was chatty, giggly, the wine burning on her cheeks. For the first time in months, Auston got a real genuine smile from her, the kind he had only seen directed towards Taylour. It takes every ounce of willpower to not lean over the console and kiss her at red lights, willpower he never had at 18.

“Want to go for a walk?” she asks when they pull back into the condo parking lot, not quite ready to go inside.

“Yeah.”

Auston has no idea where to take her. He doesn’t exactly live in an outdoorsy area with hiking trails or even sights. It’s pretty populated, restaurants, shops, clubs. Sure his condo complex offers more privacy than others, but it’s still in the middle of Scottsdale.

Either way he wants to soak up all the time he can with her before her flight tomorrow morning, so he leads her back behind some of the other buildings to the canal. The walk is slow. The two of them laughing about something that happened 3 years ago, the space between them closing with each step.

The warm wind blew Tia’s hair away from her face, perfectly showcasing her flushed cheeks. Dirt crunched under their feet, the moon rose higher and higher. For Auston time felt like it stood still, just the two of them and the soft sound of water slowly flowing to their right. Fingers occasionally touching, sometimes she stumbled into him a little. Eventually she grabbed onto his forearm and they walked. And they walked. And they walked.

“How much does child birth hurt?” Auston finally asks, quirking an eyebrow.

“What?” she laughs, a high pitched giggle.

“You said I could ask questions,” his tone is almost defensive.

“It was delightful,” sarcasm is heavy on her tongue.

“Yeah?” he prods.

“Yeah, just fucking delightful. Think of a really small hole. It’s been the size of a cheerio for almost 20 years.”

“Okay,” he nods.

“Then one day it needs to become the size of a bagel. But the only way for that to happen is for multiple 10 pound bowling balls to beat you up from the inside. They just pound and smack against your organs, forcing this hole to open at a ridiculously slow pace. It can be seven hours and the hole is no bigger than a Ritz soda cracker.”

“Okay.” He tries to not laugh.

“As that hole, the now cracker sized hole gets bigger, more bowling balls start beating you up, and more frequently, and for longer periods of time. You can’t eat. You are exerting all this energy, trying to make this hole bigger – even though nothing you do will make this happen faster – you’re drenched in sweat, exhausted, you’re miserable.”

“Starting to sound worse,” he nods.

“Then 16 hours have gone by. You’re yelling at your best friend even though it’s not her fault you didn’t properly use birth control. You’re squeezing her wrist so hard it bruises, but that hole is now the size of a bagel. For the first time in sixteen hours you can do something besides walk in circles or bounce on a yoga ball. You get to push. But it takes three hours to push this 8 pound watermelon out of the bagel sized hole.”

“Sounds terrible.” His laugh is to mask the pain of not being there. While he has accepted he wasn’t there, it doesn’t make it any easier that it was Becks hand she was holding and not his.

“Yeah, it was…but…then there is this really red tiny human. He’s crying and cold, has this patch of hair that falls off after a few weeks, the doctor places him on your chest, and you almost forget about it all.”

“Almost?”

“Yeah,” she contemplates the question, “almost.”

“Would you do it again?” he questions.

“Yeah,” she replies after a minute. “If everything played out right I would.”

Smiling, Auston puts his gaze back in front of them. A brief silence falls between them, just the blowing of the palm fronds and occasional cars on the road. “Did you shit on the table?”

“WHAT!?” Her eyes go wide and her jaw drops in complete shock, feet instantly stop walking.

“In a movie, someone said something about the mother pooping on the table. That not true?”

“Oh my god,” she mumbles in disbelief, before bursting into a loud boisterous laughter. “Yes, some women poop on the table.”

“Did you?” he playfully nudges her.

She scoffs. Opening her mouth, she thinks for a minute, then closes it. “I’m not answering that.”

“Ohmygod you did!” he teases playfully.

“I didn’t say that!”

“You didn’t have to. If it didn’t happen you would have said no, but instead you won’t answer, which means that you pooped on the table.”

“A lot of women do,” she says defensively.

“You’re upset Taylour is still in diapers at 2 and a half, but you were almost 20 and shit on a table.”

“Stop saying that!” Her cheeks are red, redder than ever. “They like when women do, it means they are pushing right.”

“I feel like that’s the same thing as telling someone it’s good luck a bird poops on them,” he grins.

“What is with you and poop tonight?” she whines.

“You said I could ask questions, I guess I’m ready to ask them now.”

“Ok, but do you have to ask about that?”

Auston wraps his arms around her neck and holds her against his chest. Huffing, she wraps her arms around him and clenches the back of his shirt in her hands. “I won’t ask about it ever again.”

“Promise?” she tilts her head to look at him.

“Yeah, I already know you pooped on the table, why would I need to ask again?”

“Auston,” she whines, trying to push him away he tightens his grip.

Laughing under his breath he issues an apology. “I swear on Taylour I’ll never mention it ever again.”

“Thank you.”

She tries to bury her face into his chest to avoid the fire burning her cheeks. Auston won’t have it. He brings one his hands up and softly cups her face. Maybe it’s the smile that hasn’t faded, the constant giggling or the way the cascading sun hits her skin, something propels Auston to go for more. Ducking down, the scruff of his facial hair brushes against her upper lip, followed by his pillow-like lips.

While heavy with passion, it is short lived – Tia pushing him away. Taking a step back, Auston knows what is coming. His eyes close and he takes a shaky breath, his heart shattering into a million pieces.

The pain is reminiscent of what he felt after Zurich, except that didn’t happen instantly. Four years ago he had hope. Every day it dwindled a little bit more and would be replaced with pain and devastation. This time it is instant, it all but knocks the air from his lungs.

“Auston let me –“ she tears up, trying to muster the strength to say what needs to be said.

“Explain?” His voice cracks. “You don’t feel the same way, you don’t have to explain.”

“We’re just better off as friends.” She tries to reason.

“Tia, don’t. It’s fine.” He lies through his teeth, fighting back the tears. How he’s still standing is a mystery.

“I’m sorry!” she half-heartedly shouts in response, a tear slipping past her eye and down her cheek. Every part of him goes numb, a deafening ring flooding his hearing. She never wanted to hurt him. There was a time he was everything she ever dreamt of – but that time has passed. She isn’t the same person from Zurich. She isn’t the person for him.

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[puccbunni]

The cowboy hat is… a choice but as a Calgarian, I appreciate it 😂

[puccbunni]

Because Two People Got Drunk

Cookie Crumbs and Hot Chocolate Mustaches

Series Masterlist

A/N: Just a little holiday blurb featuring my OG family. For reference Oliver is 22, twins are 19 and Elise is 18. Hope all of you have a safe and happy holiday season.

Warnings: Very obvious Christmas and holiday references, alluding to smut, fluff, maybe a swear word

Word Count: 1900

The house is perfect. A ridiculously large Christmas tree in the living room that barely left space for the Star of David to rest, covered in twinkling lights, years of handmade ornaments intertwined with blue pieces. Stockings hang off the mantle, the menorah centered on the dining table. Lights you made Fred hang flank the driveway and eaves trough, a light dusting of snow evident on the lawn. A piece of mistletoe Fred insisted on hanging is in the kitchen.

Chrismukkah has once again exploded in your home. Everything is ready, except for one thing.

The cookies. And those will be done by dinner, once your very excited helper arrives. But for now, it’s just you and Fred with the entire house to yourselves. Knowing that will be short lived, in a few hours everyone will be arriving for Christmas Eve, you want to make the most of it.

The late December sun has barely begun to rise, the dark morning air filling your bedroom for at least the next half hour. One dim lamp from Fred’s bedside table is all that illuminates your bedroom. Rolling to the other side of the bed and stretching out your hand you find one of his thick thighs, not his chest. Prying one eye open you see him, sitting upright staring ahead, having removed the covers from above his waist, exposing his shirtless torso. Resting on the bedside table is one of your Christmas mugs that’s about 15 years old, the picture long ago faded from the dishwasher, a small chip on the handle.

“They were so cute then,” you smile, looking at the kids in matching Christmas outfits with reindeer antlers.

“Yeah, we made some cute kids.” Chuckling he presses his lips to yours, once, twice and a third time. Firm but short kisses, grinning between them. “And those children of ours will be here soon.”

“Hours,” you laugh. Crawling up him your hand drags along his abs, slowly trailing further up his chest. “They won’t be here for hours.” Your tone is soft with a hint of need, thinking of what you have planned for the morning.

You and Fred, naked. A mess of sweaty limbs, soft moans and uneasy breathing filling the air as you trade orgasms.

Over the past week Lucas and Elise have sporadically been in the house, rarely at the same time as they catch up with their friends from home for during Christmas break. Today, being Christmas Eve all your kids are back for the holidays. Oliver with Addison and Thea, Elise, Charlie and the Marner’s, Luke, Noah and Michelle, it’s going to be a packed house in about six hours, but right now it’s just you and him, and you want to take ahold of the opportunity.

“We have so much to do,” he explains. “Gotta shower and start the day.”

“Don’t go,” you whine, a playful pout forming on your lips.

“But babe, Thea’s coming.” His copper eyes light wide brighter than the lights on your Christmas tree.

Shaking your head you can’t help the chuckle that leaves you. “In like six hours,” you grin.

With a brief kiss, the taste of coffee and Baileys lingering, he throws the blankets off and begins to head to the bathroom. “Thea’s coming, there is so much to do!”

The sound that clawed past your lips was more of a desperate disgruntled groan. Exaggeratedly you fall onto his side of the bed, sprawling out across the mattress as the sound of running water can be heard. Flipping onto your back with a sigh you stare blankly at the ceiling.

You can’t be mad, one of the things that drew your attention was how unconditionally he loved your children, that nothing was more important to him. You aren’t even a little bit surprised by him affording the same love and affection for Thea. It doesn’t mean you aren’t disappointed, but you’re not surprised.

“Elskede,” Fred calls from the door to the bathroom. Turning you quirk an eyebrow at the sight before you, Fred wearing absolutely nothing, his hardened member on full display. “Come shower.” With a smirk he nods towards the shower, waiting for you to scramble out of the bed, eagerly stripping your clothes in the process.

“No Fweddie, that’s for the gingerbread house not eating,” Thea giggles. Sitting on his knee she looks so tiny against him.

Ignoring her scolding he reaches into the bowl to grab another Hershey’s kiss, but this time brings it to her mouth. Eyes beaming with icing surrounding her lips she opens wide, eagerly accepting the sweet.

“See they look pretty on the house, but they taste even better.”

“Mhm,” she nods.

Turning you look over at them. Thea sitting on his lap, wearing the purple sparkly dress you bought her for her birthday a few months ago, deep brown eyes are wide, a hot chocolate mustache above her lips. She is a goofy and carefree three year old, constantly laughing and smiling, but also one of the sassiest kids you have ever met. Sassier than Elise was as a child, which you never thought possible.

Fred is completely over the moon, basically hasn’t let her out of his sight since she walked in. With the three of them down in Milwaukee and Oliver’s busy schedule you don’t get to see them much during the hockey season. The last time you saw them was over four weeks ago, and Thea was sure to let you both know it was way too long the second she walked in.

“Dad stop feeding her candy,” Oliver groans, watching him hand her a marshmallow.

“Relax. It’s fine, a little candy never hurt anyone.”

Completely ignoring Oliver he grabs a handful of M&M’s. Holding his palm open she leans forward to pick out the red ones, her self-proclaimed favourite of the Christmas M&M’s. Carefully she brings one up to Fred’s mouth, opening his lips she sets it in for him to eat.

“She won’t sleep tonight,” Oliver protests, but you can hear the defeat in his voice.

“Obviously,” you laugh, setting another mini candy cane on the board. “She’ll be too excited about Santa to sleep, it will have nothing to do with all the yummy treats she eats.”

“Any more candy and she’s sleeping with you guys tonight.”

“Deal,” you grin, passing her a piece of a KitKat unphazed by his threat.

More and more people trickle in throughout the afternoon, eventually the house is packed. Thea hasn’t stopped laughing, essentially spending the entire night with either Fred or Oliver. Half eaten trays of vegetables and fruit, meats, cheeses and crackers, bowls of candy, platters of cookies and deserts litter the counter. Containers of empty eggnog, wine and beer bottles, bottles of rum cover the bar.

The music can barely be heard over the multiple conversations happening across the room, the smell of dinner slowly filling the air. Elise, Noah, Charlie and Michelle are engaged in a very heated game of Monopoly, likely causing more noise than everyone else as they argue over every move.

All you are waiting on is your perpetually late child, Lucas. He told you he would arrive at 2, which you knew meant 3 at the earliest, more likely 3:30. Today he is extra late, it’s almost 4 before he finally walks through the door. Greeting his siblings and giving Thea a big hug he finally finds you and Fred, setting some plates around the table.

“Hi Lucas,” you smile. Setting the dishes down you give him a hug, as he places a soft kiss to your cheek. “You’re late,” you scold jokingly.

“Am I?” he laughs.

“Yes you’re late, even for Luke time,” Fred jokes.

“I was ready, it was Riley’s fault,” he explains, with a slight smirk.

“Who’s Riley?” you quirk an eyebrow. You and Fred being close with your kids know most of their friends, or at the very least have heard of them. Riley is a name you have never heard before.

“We’ve got some classes together, been going out for a couple months now,” he explains, with a sparkle in his eye.

“You want to introduce them to this craziness after that short a time? Must like them if you’re confident they won’t immediately run in the opposite direction,” Fred laughs as Thea comes running into the side of him legs almost knocking him over in the process. Bending down he picks her up, accepting the doll she hands him.

“Fweddie, come play with me?” she tries to pout, but the coy smile pokes through.

“I’ll help,” Lucas offers, taking over for Fred.

“Tell me about Riley,” you prod once the table is set.

“Actually, why don’t you see for yourself?”

Turning your head to the hall you see Riley standing somewhat awkwardly in the doorway, glancing around the room he smiles upon spotting Lucas. Walking over Lucas places a soft and brief kiss on his lips before pulling away to introduce you, a hand resting on the small of his back. He is of similar height to Lucas, his hair is a wavy dirty blonde with light strands sprinkled in. “Mom this is Riley, Riley this is my mom.”

Riley sticks a hand out to introduce himself but you just laugh in response. “We hug in this family,” you explain. He chuckles in response and gives you a soft hug, a bright smile still pressed on your face when he pulls away.

“Nice to meet you, this is for you Mrs. Andersen,” he explains, handing you a bottle of your favourite wine.

Shooting your son a knowing glance you return your attention to Riley. “Please never call me that,” you laugh, “I’m YN. And thank you, but you didn’t need to bring me anything.”

“Told you,” Lucas singsongs.

Almost instantly Fred is sliding in beside you wearing a cape with a costume tiara on his greying red hair. Thea is on his hip a half-eaten cookie in her hand and multiple plastic necklaces around her neck. “Hi, I’m Fred,” he introduces himself.

“And I’m Thea,” she proudly announces.

“It’s nice to meet you Thea. My name is Riley.”

“Do you want to come to my tea party? Fweddie and Charwee are coming, I have cookies,” she points to a small white table in the corner.

“Can’t say no to cookies.” Grinning, he follows Fred and Thea to the child sized table. The three men squeeze into the miniature chairs, their knees higher than the top of the table. Thea hands them each a plate with a Christmas cookie and a stuffed animal, a must at every tea party she hosts.

“So I’m gay,” Lucas chuckles, drawing your attention back to him.

“I pieced that together,” you reply. “He make you happy?”

“Incredibly happy.”

“That’s all that matters.” Saying nothing else because nothing else is needed, you give him another hug, pressing your face against the knit Christmas sweater on his chest. “But Luke?” you push your head back to glance up at him.

“Hmm?”

“Don’t blame Riley for you being late.”

Taglist: If you are in this list you have expressed interest in the series, either through likes/reblogs or by asking. If you would like to be removed or added to the list send me an ask:

@mandypants95 @c-tangerine @canesjedi31 @daniellepulice72 @puccbunni @hockeyinaussie

[puccbunni]

Adjustment Period

Auston Matthews!Established relationship. Based off this request

Warnings: Swearing, smut, oral (female receiving), oversensitivity, unprotected sex (wrap it up kids), a slight dominance kink if you squint? I think that's it

Word Count: 1700

“Noooo,” you whine as your boyfriend walks into the bedroom. A massive black and white fluffball jumps onto the bed to greet you, a warm tongue licks your cheek as you bring your hands up to scratch behind his ears.

“What did your daddy do?” you ask in your puppy voice, Felix’s tail wagging eagerly in response.

Today is December 1, the first day after Movember. Auston teamed up with them to raise money and if the goal was reached he would shave his mustache. Last year he only made it half way to his goal, so you were optimistic it would stay for another year. But with ten days left he exceeded the goal, meaning the mustache had to go.

At first you thought the mustache was ridiculous, but slowly it wore you down and up until yesterday you couldn’t imagine him without it. You tried to convince him to keep it, it was an excellent argument on your part. Starting with a back massage, ending with your lips wrapped around his length, bobbing on his shaft while your doe-eyes looked up at him through your lashes. You hoped it was enough, but here he is, a few feet away, no facial hair.

Absolutely none, barely any stubble visible on his face.

Continuing to pet Felix, Auston empties his phone and wallet onto the dresser, leering at you from his peripheral vision. “I know, I can’t believe he shaved it either,” you pout to Felix, responding to one of his whines.

“You had days to prepare YN,” he smiles. Falling onto the mattress, he rests on one elbow his free hand petting Felix.

“No amount of preparation would have been enough,” you retort.

“You saying you don’t like it?”

“I’m just so used to the mustache, I didn’t remember you without it. It’s just going to take some adjusting.”

You watch his brown eyes flick over your face. His tongue slips out, licking his parted lips before his gaze locks on yours. “I think I can help you like it,” he smirks.

“Oh yeah?” you quirk an eyebrow.

“Mhm,” he mumbles, voice low and husky. Leaning forward his mouth connects to your jaw as he places a few soft kisses. When a soft moan spills from your lips he leans forward, tilting your neck to allow him more space. Warm, soft, open mouth kisses turn into him sucking and nipping along your skin, each time drawing a louder moan from you.

Trailing his hand down your body, he slides his hand inside your leggings, smirking when he feels the slick that has begun to trickle down your legs. “Knew I could get you to like it,” he groans deep in your ear.

“I didn’t say I did yet.”

“I’ll change that.” His tone is taunting. Following a deep seeded chuckle, he pushes you onto your back, his large body quickly following suit. Felix jumps down and his nails clack against the wood floor as he makes his exit. Auston crawls over you sucking harder against your neck, clothes are quickly discarded into a pile on the floor, allowing Auston the opportunity to run his eyes over your body. “Fuck baby, you’re so beautiful,” he grins.

A smile spreads from both his praise and the way he’s looking at you. Even in a moment full of passion and heat, a moment when his eyes are laced with fire, he manages to make you feel you’re the only person in the world.

But the smile fades the second his mouth attaches to your body, warm open mouth kisses being placed everywhere. Neck, breasts, hips, stomach. At first you missed the way his mustache would linger against your skin, but after a few minutes you barely even notice it. Your entire body tingles, a fire being lit in your core. Large hands trail across your body easily engulfing your swollen orbs, carefully rolling the nipple through his fingers. A tongue swipes along your warm skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. The memory of his mustache fading further and further into the distance.

“Babe,” he hums against your hip bone, anticipation burning hot inside you. “Hop on,” he smirks, pulling away and falling onto his back. Chuckling lightly, you follow his instructions and quickly straddle him, knees on either side of his hips.

Grinding over his throbbing length, the thought of his bulbous, leaking tip parting your folds pulls an involuntary moan from your lips.

“YN,” he grins, drawing your gaze. “That’s not how you’re gonna get used to it.”

A devilish grin spreads over his face, as he nods for you to climb up. Knees trembling you slowly make your way up his body, warmth spilling from you core with every passing second. Two hands find the backs of your thighs, encouraging you further up. Once in position his warm breath fans over your folds causing you to almost fall over as your lashes kiss your cheeks.

With a heavy laugh he holds you in place. Flattening his tongue he licks a stripe over your entrance, forcing you to grab a chunk of his hair for stability. Kitten licks, turn into his tongue splitting open your walls, his nose pressing against your clit. Thick calloused hands firmly grip your ass cheeks pinning you against his mouth, your head immediately tilting back.

Tightening your hand in his hair, you give him a hard tug while he feasts on you like it’s his last meal. You don’t even miss the mustache burn normally felt between your legs. The sounds spilling from your lips are obscene before finally becoming a silent ‘O,’ as your vocal chords are rendered incapacitated.

Auston long ago knew what to do and when to do it to in order to make the coil in your stomach tighten until the tension is too much. And that is exactly what he is doing right now. With your hands gripped tight in his dark curly hair, he smiles smugly against your core as he licks and sucks, until you cum all over his tongue. Groaning from beneath you, Auston works to lap up the traces of your orgasm. Normally at this point he would ease up, continue to work you through your high while simultaneously leading you to some relief.

Not today.

Today he tightens his grip, nails carving crescents into your clammy skin.

Today he thrusts his tongue deeper into your pussy, nose firmly pressed against your clit.

Today he seeks out your second release, which quickly rolls into your third.

Today he is on a mission, and he doesn’t stop until your fourth orgasm has rolled through you. What was once euphoria is replaced with an intense tingling, oversensitivity becoming apparent. Sweat builds at the nape of your neck, a few beads rolling down the valley of your breasts. So caught up in your pleasure, struggling to capture your breath or regain any control of your body you don’t even notice he finally eased the grip on your thighs or had pulled his head back.

It’s not until a few minutes pass when you notice your hands have eased their grips. Shallow sporadic breaths interspersed with heavy and deep, until finally you are breathing normally. “YN,” Auston calls out, giving your thighs a slight push. Taking the hint you crawl off him instantly noticing the grin pressed to his face, and the sticky white warmth that coats his lips and chin.

“Shit Aus,” you breathe out, pulling a chuckle from him. Your pussy is used, sore, soaked, some remaining cum stuck to your inner thighs.

Rolling onto his side he pushes you onto your back, his body quickly hovering yours. Without a chance to respond his throbbing tip pokes at your entrance and begins separating your folds. Eyes rolling into the back of your head as the air is pulled from your lungs. Mustering up the strength, your leg wraps around his back right as he snaps his hips.

Deep and harsh, Auston sets a feverish pace. Your nails drag along his broad back, his mouth attaches to your neck. Sucking and nipping along your skin, your pussy quivering with every thrust. Whimpering as you’re fifth orgasm nears, the heat in your belly is almost at its boiling point.

Auston doesn’t let up. He never does when you are this close. Moans, grunts and curse words fill your shared bedroom, along with the rattling of the headboard against the wall, likely drawing judgmental glances from your neighbours over the coming days.

“You gonna cum baby,” he rasps in your ear, even though he long ago knew the answer.

“Mngh.” Your tongue sticks to the roof of your mouth, dry, starved of all moisture.

Groaning in agreement, he sucks on your ear lobe. Your thighs tremble as he fucks you, and each time a pathetic sound escapes your throat, you hear him chuckle. Not even bothering to wait for him, your fifth orgasm erupts. Lightning bolts ignite inside you as your heel digs into his muscular back. Every part of you is on fire as your vision whites out.

Writhing under him, your warmth spills around his cock. Static fizzles in your ears, Auston muttering a few curse words in response. Long ago the deep and fast thrusts were replaced with shallow and sloppy as he approaches his high.

His breath is warm on your neck, every movement becoming more and more erratic. Ropes of sticky white cum flood your walls, painting them white. Thrusting a few more times his body collapses, his large frame landing on yours. A tangled mess of sweat and limbs, neither one of you moves as you try to capture your breath.

Still reveling in your post orgasmic haze you whine when he slowly pulls out. Pushing onto his elbow his once deep dark irises have finally softened, his yellow flecks becoming evident. Dark brown curls stick out in every direction before you gently tuck some behind his ears, grinning up at him.

“So, still missing the stache?” he winks.

“You might be persuading me,” you laugh softly.

[puccbunni]

Too Far Gone - Part Twenty One

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of cocaine, escorting and stripping, alluding to mental health issues and shitty parents

Word Count: 6300

Auston is exhausted. It’s not to say he didn’t enjoy his day, because he did. Hanging out with Taylour is easily one of his favourite things, but he never stopped. It was toy after toy, snack after snack, a never ending amount of playtime. It’s like he was the energizer bunny, Auston had never seen him this excited for something.

Maybe the bond between them is getting thicker, stronger, and Taylour is more comfortable, no longer holding back. Or maybe because it was Taylour’s first sleepover with anyone he was bouncing off the walls. Either way it doesn’t matter because Auston had the best night with him.

Something about watching him at his apartment, it’s different. There was a time, not so long ago when he felt like Tia wouldn’t let him be involved in any capacity, where this wouldn’t be possible. To have gone from not getting a text back and considering getting lawyers involved, to having him overnight in under two months. Thinking of the progress that has been made it’s astronomical.

They haven’t talked about what the plan will be for the summer. With the playoffs starting in a month, and the Leafs hopefully making a long run into June there hasn’t been much need to have that discussion yet. At this point, Auston has zero concerns for that time because they are in a good place. A place where it can only get better.

When Taylour finally fell asleep Auston needed a few minutes to unwind and found himself on his couch. What was supposed to be five minutes easily turned into an hour, now he needs to get his living room somewhat clean before going to bed. Even though Taylour will have it destroyed by the time breakfast is over.

It’s after 10 when Auston hears a light knock on his door. Sighing he leaves the few remaining toys lingering on the floor, expecting to see Fred on the other side. Not bothering to glance in the peephole he throws the door open and instead of a 6’4” Dane with broad shoulders and red hair, he looks down to see a 5’7” brunette who looks like hell.

Almost as bad as the day she found out about Kylie. Almost, but not quite.

Her hair is done, curled and framing her face. Brown eyes are bloodshot and glazed with tears, threatening to spill at any minute. Her bottom lip quivers and she sniffles loudly, hands trembling ever so slightly. Her makeup is partially complete but it doesn’t hide the puffiness of her cheeks or the hollowness lurking beneath the surface.

“I left,” she whispers softly, struggling to not let her voice crack.

“Okay,” he replies, stepping aside to let her in.

Kicking of her boots and leaving her coat and bag in a pile by his door, she paces around the living room. Turning off the almost muted TV, he sits on the arm of his couch watching her wear a hole into his floor. Her feet pick up their pace and she bites her nails, a nervous habit she’s had for years. Her vision gets more blurred by each passing second, a beating heart pounds through her chest, to a point she is surprised Auston can’t hear it.

Mumbling something under her breath, it’s barely audible, Auston picks up some curse words and something else, a word he can’t quite decipher. Repeating it again and again, still too muffled for him to hear. So he just sits, watches and waits. Noticing the crease in her forehead and her scrunched nose, he continues to watch. Warm tears barrel down her face as she paces, fingers fidgeting with every step, but he just waits.

Tia wants to tell him, but her voice is trapped in her throat. Every time she opens her mouth, almost nothing comes out, but she keeps trying. Trying to get the words to hit her tongue. Her heart feels like its pumping lead through her veins, her body feels like it is trapped under six feet of dirt with no way out.

“Tia.”

His voice is soft. So soft she almost didn’t hear it over the pounding in her ears. But it is the push she needs to regain some control of her vocal chords.

“Etobicoke,” she says, louder this time. “My mom is in Etobicoke.”

Swallowing, he doesn’t say anything, because what can he say?

The hardest part in finding out about Taylour, was learning how close they were. Living twenty minutes away (pending Toronto traffic of course) for two years and Auston was none the wiser. Upon learning of him, Auston spent countless nights wondering if they ever went into the same coffee shop but minutes apart, or if he had of gone to a different grocery store would he have seen her? He wondered if he ever drove by her as she pushed Taylour’s stroller down the street, or if she took him to the park he can see from his balcony.

But the one thing he can’t imagine, is knowing his son lived down the street and doing nothing.

But does Kylie even know? Does she have any idea that not only her daughter, but her grandson, live a few bus stops over? Has she walked into a coffee shop while Tia was there but thought she was a stranger? Or worse, did she recognize her and say nothing? Even if she doesn’t know where Tia is living, how did she go on with her life? How does she get out of bed every morning knowing a person, with 50% of her DNA is somewhere in the world?

“I looked it up on Google Earth, it’s cute. Has a nice yard, a pool even. 2 cars in the driveway, that was from 2014 so it could have been an old owner back then. But she is in Etobicoke. Less than a half hour away. My mom is a half hour from me. A half hour,” she scoffs, still reeling from the news.

“Tia. I uh, I’m so sorry,” he struggles to get the words out because there is nothing he can say to make it better.

“I was going to go to work, started getting ready, I showered…I,” she begins to ramble off. “I had to get ready….I went to work….Becks called and…my hair was done…Camille…and she’s in Etobicoke….I…I” Auston tries to keep up but through her sobs and staggered breathing he only catches bits and pieces, not enough to string together a coherent thought. “I realized I couldn’t work, not like that….they had it…the music was loud…just sitting there…laughing and…I grabbed my coke.”

That he heard.

Taking a deep shuddering breath, he knows this time he can’t react like he did before. This time she is coming to him, admitting her errors. It’s apparent now more than ever that she needs help, and getting mad isn’t the way to ensure she gets it.

“I couldn’t do it, I didn’t do it,” she emphasizes. “I left it on the counter, grabbed my bag…and I don’t know why, I just came here.”

“I’m glad you did T,” he breathes out, letting out a deep exhale he didn’t’ know he had been holding on to.

“My boss was pissed when I left.” Her phone chimes in her pocket, pulling it out she silences the call with a sigh. “Like next level pissed. I don’t know if I’ll have a job tomorrow.”

“You’ll be okay,” he hums. Closing the gap between them he doesn’t hesitate to pull her into his chest, allowing her to cry against him. “If you need money –“

“Auston, seriously,” she groans. Attempting to push away he tightens his arms around her, not giving her the chance to get away.

“I don’t know if you heard, but I recently signed an $11 million contract Tia. I think I can help in that department, let me help,” he pleads, thinking this time she might actually accept.

“I don’t need your help,” she fights back. “I was doing fine before you came alone. I supported me, supported Taylour. I don’t need you to come in and throw money around to feel like a hero.”

“I’m not trying to be a hero Tia,” he sighs, throwing his head back he fights the urge to press her. Her stubbornness was always his least favourite thing about her. “I’m just…he’s my son.”

He wants to push it, push her to see his perspective. He has the resources to help her, whether it’s temporary or a permanent payment schedule, he can help. But he knows that if he pushes it any further she will most likely leave. And if she leaves now, Auston is 99% certain she will find cocaine somewhere. And he can’t be the reason she does it. He can’t be what pushes her over the edge.

“You don’t have to take it…I just need you to know it it’s an option,” he whispers.

With a reluctant nod she continues to sniffle against him, his hand gently runs through her hair. Softly he presses his lips to her forehead and mumbles that he is there for her, that things will be okay. Repeating it over and over, needing her to hear it, even though she doesn’t believe it.

Holding her against him, protecting her from everything that lingers around the corner, he eventually feels her body start to relax and uses that as an opportunity to pull her to the couch, pleading with her to vent.

And she does.

Except this time, she tells him everything. Some of the rumours swirling around at Ryerson, that she asked her TA for help on an assignment and the next day people were saying she slept with him for a grade. She tells him of the looks she feels in the halls or how every time she walks into a room it gets quiet, as if everyone had just been talking about her. How every day the potential for an internship fades further and further, and she doesn’t know if she’ll find one in order to graduate. By the end it’s all incoherent cries mixed with sobs, barely able to get a breath in. He just holds her tight to his chest, gently running his fingers over her arm, trying to calm her. But she just cries.

She cries for her mom.

She cries for her dad.

She cries for Taylour.

Mostly, she cries for herself.

And he lets her.

“Can I see him?” she finally asks when her chest is only partially heaving. “I just need –“

“Obviously,” Auston interrupts quickly, laughing as if it’s the most ridiculous thing ever.

Opening the door Tia immediately smiles, the first time in hours. He sent her pictures throughout the entire process, an abundance of pictures, but she didn’t think it would look this good. Dark brown curls poking out under the Paw Patrol blanket, a stuffed monkey pulled tightly against his small body, light snores escaping his lips.

Leaving Auston at the threshold she is beside Taylour, picking up his stuffed Marshall that has fallen during his sleep. “Goodnight baby,” she whispers, placing a soft kiss on his forehead. Lifting the comforter she gently tucks his stuffed animal in with him. “I love you so much Tay.” Tears brim in her eyes as she places a final kiss on his forehead, Taylour softly mumbling in his sleep.

She needs more, more than five seconds and a kiss on the forehead. Curling up beside him for the night likely wouldn’t even be enough. At this point she has no idea what would be enough, only that she won’t get it.

“I’m sorry for coming here, dumping all of this on you,” she explains. Stepping back into the hall and tugging on the door she leaves it open an inch, allowing the hall light to filter in through the crack. “I should go.”

“No.” he commands. “You’re not leaving, you’re a fucking mess.”

“Thanks,” she scoffs, brushing away some tears.

“I just mean,” he sighs before continuing, “you shouldn’t be alone right now.”

“How do you know I’ll be alone? Maybe Becks is coming over.”

“Is she?” he asks, crossing his arms over his chest, quirking an eyebrow at her.

“No,” Tia mutters, eyes dropping to the floor, “she is on a date.”

“Then you’re staying, but we’re not watching Legally Blonde again,” he explains, dragging her down the hall to the living room.

“Hey, I saw you smile a couple times, I believe you even laughed once.”

“Yeah, but not because it was funny, it was an ‘oh my god I can’t believe I’m seeing this for the fourth time’ kind of laugh,” he grins. Tia doesn’t fight him on it, instead shaking her head with a slight laugh, knowing that isn’t entirely true.

“Do you have some clothes I can borrow?” she asks, stopping behind the couch.

“Yeah, go grab whatever from my room,” he replies, falling into the couch, his head landing against the pillow.

Returning a few minutes later with a clean face, in the clothes she returned mere hours ago, he expects her to occupy the other half of his ‘L’ shaped couch. Instead she climbs over him, wedging herself between him and the back cushion.

At first he froze, actually froze, having no idea what she is doing. Wide eyed he watched, feeling Tia force herself into the sliver of space he picked up on the not so subtle hint, and shimmied over to give her space. Saying nothing she curls beside him using his arm as a cushion, letting him hold her, because it’s what she needs.

Of all the possibilities for what would happen when he saw her at the door, her legs tangled in his, a cold hand gently resting on his chest wasn’t even something he considered.

This situation isn’t new to him, them lying on a couch together watching a movie, it’s how they spent most nights together in Zurich. They just haven’t been in this spot for over three years.

It’s been three years since he felt her hand slowly drop down his chest as she begins to doze off. Three years since her knee was thrown over one his thighs, her body heat causing him to burn up. Three years since he felt her breathing slow before soft snores slipped from her parted lips.

Three years ago he saw this night. Them, curled on the couch while their kids were sleeping soundly down the hall. It wasn’t something he saw until they were 27 or 28, but he still saw it.

Then he didn’t.

He didn’t see it with anyone for that matter. Over a year went by before he saw it as a possibility. He didn’t know with who, never had a face for her, just thought that maybe, possibly, in his future he would have a wife and kids. After sleeping together again, it was Tia, she was the face, the person behind this ambiguous dream. He had eight hours where his eighteen year old self was living out his fantasy.

Then everything imploded.

Having the girl of his dreams ripped from him, the potential of his family shattered in front of him, not once but twice, he was done. Told himself that was it, there would be nobody ever. There would be nobody curled beside him wearing his sweater. He wouldn’t wake up in the mornings to see the same face, there would be no infectious laughter coming from the living room or pictures decorating the fridge.

It was just going to be him.

Now Tia is here, filling the spot he swore would remain empty. It’s not a permanent occupancy, likely falling vacant by morning, but for now it’s something he’s going to enjoy.

Waking up the next morning she notices three things. The first is the bright morning sun filtering in through the partially open blinds, burning her retinas. Next is that she isn’t at home, a friends, or any place she has been before. Lastly, she isn’t alone.

Warm breath hits her collarbone with every exhale, a hand tucked under her sweater resting so high on her stomach it’s almost grazing her breast. A head lies on her shoulder and the thigh thrown over her leg pins her to the mattress.

Blinking a few times to adjust to the light, a deep contemplative exhale spills from her lips. Tilting her head she sees the blanket hanging low, most of his muscular back is on display as his inked arm disappears under her shirt.

After falling asleep on his couch Tia felt everything shift around her as he tried to carefully pick her up. Her head pressed against his chest, arms under her legs and back, he began the trek down the hall. She had no idea where Auston was bringing her, to his bed or the spare room.

The thought of being alone, the potential of her mind taking over was daunting. Knowing that she needed someone, she mumbled through her foggy haze, “Aus? Will you stay with me?” And of course he said yes.

Lying her on his bed, he stripped his track pants off and climbed in behind her. Before the duvet was even pulled over them there was a soft tug on his wrist beckoning him forward. Closing the gap, she pulled his arm forward and wrapped it around her core, effectively pinning him behind her.

She needed comfort and protection, to feel safe, for the first time in a while. To drown out all the dread that lurks outside the door. That’s why she pinned his hand against her chest, too afraid of what would happen if she let him go.

Auston also needed this, but not for the same reasons. He doesn’t have demons threatening him at every turn, he doesn’t need someone to block out the background noise. He didn’t even know it until she climbed beside him on that couch, but he needs her.

Tia is the person who should be lying beside him every night. They should read Taylour a bedtime story and tuck him in together, every night. He needs Tia, he needs his family. For now he needs Tia to get better, that is the focus, but there is nobody else who should next to him at night. It’s Tia, always has been.

“Mommy,” Taylour squeals, trying to climb on the bed to get to her.

“Hiya,” she smiles, Auston’s eyes slowly flutter open. Upon the realization of where his hand is his entire face goes red and he quickly recoils. Tia focuses her attention on Taylour, ignoring the reaction of him. Normally she wouldn’t want Taylour to see her in this position, waking up with a man beside her in bed, but today she doesn’t care.

“I’m hungry mommy,” Taylour announces as she pulls him against her stomach and peppers him with kisses.

“I heard daddy has a yummy breakfast planned,” she glances to Auston who is still struggling to open his eyes.

“Mhm” he yawns. “We got fruit loops or lucky charms.”

“He can’t have that, it’s all sugar” Tia mumbles.

“Dad’s house, dad’s rule” Auston laughs, climbing out of bed for a shirt and pants. “Let’s go get breakfast Taylour.” Auston holds his arms out and catches Taylour mid-air, leaving Tia alone for a minute.

“Feeling better?” Auston asks, when Tia joins them after having a longer than normal shower.

“Yeah, thanks,” she smiles, grabbing the mug Auston set aside for her. Sitting at one of his barstools she watches Taylour. Currently half of the living room is covered in toys and he is practically in the toy box looking for another.

“We gotta talk about last night,” Auston announces.

Turning to face him, she braces for a scolding she assumes is coming her way. The scolding she without a doubt has earned.

This is the last place she should have went. And she most definitely shouldn’t have climbed in beside him on the couch or asked him to share a bed. She will be responsible for any awkwardness or tension that ensues. She shouldn’t have sought out comfort with him, he is the last person she should turn to.

Really, she didn’t plan on coming here. When she fled the club last night her intention was to go home, but she didn’t want to be alone. Max and Emily were celebrating their anniversary and Becks was on a date. Tia knew Becks would have left her date in a heartbeat if she called, which is why she didn’t. Becks has done so much for her over the years that Tia often feel like a burden. That Becks brings more to their friendship and all Tia does is take. She couldn’t take last night from her.

Sitting in the backseat of the taxi, warm tears barreled down her cheeks. The driver sensing her need to flee, left. He drove a few blocks without even turning on the meter until he found a parking spot where they sat for a few minutes. Finally, as she regained herself a bit he asked where she wanted to go. Auston’s address just came out.

“I’m here for you okay T.” A scowl presses onto her forehead momentarily not excepting this conversation. “You’re Taylour’s mom, you’ll always be in my life. If us raising him together is going to work you have to let me in, I need to know what’s going on. The shit that’s been going on at school, at work, you should have told me sooner. You’re not alone, you never will be”

“I know,” she whispers, her voice barely audible.

“We’re a team T, we’ll get through this, together,” he reassures her, and for the first time she starts to believe him.

“Mommy look,” Taylour calls out, pressing the button on his firetruck to start the sirens.

“Wow, that’s so cool! What else can it do?”

Leaving Auston she walks over to Taylour and sits on the floor, trying to keep up as he rambles off a mile a minute of everything it can do. Barely done explaining that toy, he grabs another and another and another, showing her all the new toys and every feature they each have.

“So I have morning skate in a bit,” Auston says, sitting on the couch with his coffee. “It’s optional, pretty relaxed. I think he’d love to watch though.”

“Yeah,” turning to Taylour she smiles, “he’d love it. I should get going and –“

“Do you want to come? Kinda need you to watch him while I’m on the ice.” Watching her glance to her watch he continues, “don’t worry it will be done before your class.”

“I mean this is all I have to wear,” she eyes to her black leggings and a simple chunky blue knit sweater. It’s not something Tia would typically wear out in public. It’s the outfit she wears to work, only for the comfort on the way home. “Unless I put on the black satin dress in my bag.”

“The dress would probably be cold,” he laughs, “but you look fine.”

“Coming from you that means nothing,” she teases.

“So you’ll come?” he asks, completely ignoring her banter.

“I don’t know, if you play bad tonight it will be my fault.”

“Yes. 100%. I would blame you and only you for my on-ice performance,” he rolls his eyes, playing into the absurdity.

“People online would think that.”

“How would you know? You’re not supposed to be reading that crap.”

“Daddy said a bad word,” Taylour chuckles from his toys. Auston’s eyes go wide and a blush hits his face while Tia just shakes her head, relieved she doesn’t have to answer to Taylour.

“I match daddy” Taylour proudly announces, standing at the front door.

Auston has him dressed in a simple pair of black jeans, a tie dye shirt under a blue denim jacket and backwards baseball cap. Looking down she chuckles seeing the two of them even have matching sneakers.

“Wow you are so handsome,” she smiles.

“What’s that? You like my outfit?” Auston calls from his room.

“I like his outfit,” she grabs Taylour’s winter coat. Auston doesn’t fight it knowing she’d never admit it. “Can you get that?” Auston asks after a knock on the door.

Opening the door Tia is taken aback. She briefly met Fred a few weeks ago, but was on edge and didn’t fully take in his size. She almost thinks he is bigger than Auston.

“Hi,” he stutters stepping in, equally shocked to see Tia, “I’m Fred.”

“Tia.”

“I know, I remember,” Fred smiles. “Heard a lot about you.”

“None of its true,” she smiles. Grinning, Fred bends down to try and get closer to Taylour but even crouching he still towers over the toddler.

“Hi, I’m your daddy’s friend Fred,” he explains.

“Hi I’m Taylour,” he announces proudly, making Fred chuckle lightly.

“I like your shoes,” Fred says eyeing to the white Nikes on his feet.

“My daddy has the same ones!” Taylour cheers.

“Hey man,” Auston calls out making his way down the hall, but Fred only nods towards him still engaged in a conversation with Taylour who is rambling.

“See we match!” Taylour proclaims. Running over to Auston, Taylour stops beside him and puts his foot besides his, showing the matching ensemble off to everyone.

“We sure do!” Auston picks him up eliciting a squeal from him, “You ready?”

“Mhm,” he nods.

The entire drive is filled with Taylour’s chatter, Fred tries to pick up words but he knows two languages. English and Danish. He doesn’t speak toddler, at least not yet. Tia mindlessly stares out the window, lost in her thoughts, extremely nervous for the day ahead of her. Regret building with each passing second.

There are a few cars scattered around the parking lot, snow still clinging to the grass. The temperature has increased significantly from last night, still a chilled wind rolls off the lake. Trailing a few feet behind she watches Taylour hold Auston’s hand, practically running match his stride. Tucking her hands into her pockets and her chin into her jacket she makes the trek, oblivious to everything around her until she hears a woman’s voice say, “hi Taylour.”

“Remember Christina?” Auston asks crouching down, “and Caleb?”

“I’m watching daddy play hockey,” he explains, ignoring Auston’s question.

Not expecting a WAG to be there and her anxiety rises and her palms get clammy. She didn’t spend much time as one in Zurich but she knows how some of them can be. Critical. Abrasive. They tend to form a close knit group and newcomers often struggle to be let in, especially if the guy they are dating has a tendency to date around. They don’t want to welcome someone in who may not last more than a few months.

She doesn’t even want to think of how it will be for her.

The ex of one of the star players, the mother of his child. The woman whose face was smeared on newspaper covers and name can’t be googled without the word escort appearing beside it. On top of that, Auston had a girlfriend not too long ago who likely was going to games. Tia has no idea what other lies Claire has told them. Even if she said nothing else, that article speaks for itself.

She wants to run. Make up some excuse about an assignment or a test, a headache, anything to not be here. She can’t be here. “Hi, I’m Christina,” the petite blonde smiles, pulling her gaze back to the group, “you must be Tia.”

“Yeah, I am. Nice to meet you,” Tia politely replies.

“This her?” A brunette asks joining the group. Auston nods slightly and he laughs, “I’m Patty,” he introduces himself, placing a soft kiss on Christina’s cheek.

Patty. That name stands out. Auston has mentioned him a few times. He has credited him with some of the better decisions he has made over the past few months. Knowing he has been a part of Auston’s support system, Tia begins to feel relief.

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” Tia smiles.

“Oh god, don’t believe a word he has told you,” he laughs. “Can I ask you a question?” Not waiting for her to reply he continues, “did you get dropped on your head a lot as a child?”

“What?” Tia’s eyes go wide. Christina gives him a nudge and she can see Fred hiding a smirk. “I’m just trying to figure out why you dated him. I mean you’re beautiful and well he,” he trails off for a second to eye Auston up and down, “I don’t think his personality makes up for it. I just don’t know what you say in him,” Patty teases.

“You know I’ve asked myself that a lot and I don’t have an answer,” Tia jokes.

“Alright,” Auston interrupts them, “that’s enough out of you two. I’ve come a long way, even got a little prodigy who loves my clothing choices.”

“He’s two,” Fred laughs.

Walking inside the guys all head off to the dressing room. Not wanting the kids to get cold before the practice, Christina and Tia wander around the halls, falling into an easy conversation. Any fears or hesitancies she had fade the more they talk. Tia realizes that while she assumed Christina would make assumptions, it was her that had the preconceived notions because Christina is nothing like she thought.

She is polite, funny and puts her at ease. She tells her about how she and Patty met, how she mistook him for an usher. About their first date, and how they now have four crazy boys they are trying to keep up with. Tia tells her about her schooling. Any concern of her passing judgement flies out the window, and she immediately can tell why Auston turns to her and her husband for advice.

“Hey Christina,” an attractive brunette in an Armani suit and glasses calls out, walking up to them. “What’s going on Caleb?” he gives him a high five. Glancing to Tia he scans over her face briefly before sticking his hand out, “I don’t think we’ve met I’m Kyle.”

“Tia, and that is Taylour…Auston’s son,” she points to Taylour who is engaged in a game of tag, watching the lights go off in his head.

“Oh, it’s nice to meet you finally,” he smiles. Extending a hand she accepts it, shaking his hand.

“Nice to meet you,” she replies. “Are you on the team?” she asks, wondering why he is in a suit as every other player was dressed much more casually.

“Uh no,” he blushes slightly. “I don’t play, I’m the GM.”

Tia’s eyes go wide and her face turns the brightest shade of red anybody has ever seen. Completely horrified by her question, “oh my god. I…I’m so sorry.”

“Its fine,” he laughs, “But I gotta get going, enjoy the practice.”

With nothing further he walks away leaving Tia still in shock. “I can’t believe I –“

“Honestly don’t worry about it, keeps him humble.” Christina laughs.

Over the next few minutes more players begin to trickle in. Tia meets Mitch, well formally meets him after a brief elevator ride in Helsinki. Next is Morgan, then Tyler and Jake. It’s all brief introductions, but everyone is polite. Smiling, making the same jokes about how Auston must have tricked a girl like her into dating him, or about his fashion sense, knowing she is a fashion major

“Mommy look,” Taylour points to the Zamboni on the ice with wide eyes.

Laughing at his fascination, they take the kids into the rink finding some seats along the glass. Tia thought his excitement with the Zamboni was a lot, but the moment the players finally stepped on the ice his eyes lit up. His eyes are glued to the ice absolutely ecstatic seeing them skate by.

“What one’s daddy?” Taylour asks, running over to Tia, tugging on her arm.

“Umm,” Tia picks him up so he can be higher to see over the boards. Scanning around to a group of players waiting in the faceoff circle, she spots him. No number on the back of his jersey, but the smile on his face is unmistakable even from this distance. “Right there,” Tia points.

Spotting them at the other end of the rink, Auston skates over to the glass and taps on it.

“Hiii!” Taylour giggles, waving at him. Bending down Auston waves back, lingering for a moment before skating back to join the practice. The sound of skates and sticks hitting the ice echoes through the rink, bringing Tia back to Zurich. Pucks hitting the glass, skates cutting the ice, it was her studying soundtrack for almost six months.

She used to love looking up and catching Auston smiling with his teammates, celebrating after a particularly creative play. There was playful winks, him jokingly shooting a puck at the glass beside her, claiming he missed the net but they both knew he didn’t. That was her favourite part of watching his practices, but today there is none of that.

“So you and Auston,” Christina hesitantly pries. “I have to ask,” she says, noting Tia’s obvious exhale.

“Yeah…I mean we obviously were something,” she starts not entirely sure where to go. “But now we’re just trying to navigate how to raise Taylour.”

“And how’s that going? I only hear what Auston tells me.”

“Better now,” Tia smiles slightly. “Still have a ways to go, but its better now.”

“What do you mean?”

“He keeps…” trailing off, Tia contemplates if telling her, one of Auston’s friends is a good idea. But something about Christina makes her feel like she can be honest, that her words are safe. “He keeps trying to give me money, as if it will solve everything, it’s very obvious he hates I’m a stripper.”

“Okay, he wants to help and I’ve tried to talk to him about how to do that, the boy doesn't listen well,” she laughs. “But I don’t think you being a stripper bothers him.”

“Really?” Tia scoffs, not believing her. Watching Taylour, she laughs when he cheers watching the guys skate laps. He has no idea who any of the players are, or what they are doing, he is just happy to be there, happy to watch.

“It definitely shocked him at first, but now he seems to have accepted it. If it’s something you want to do, then he’ll support you, support the decision. He just wants you to be happy, whatever that looks like.”

Tia tries to process that. Whatever that looks like. What could that mean? It seems like a simple statement but she can’t help but feel it is loaded with meaning. Neither one says anything else, Christina fixing her attention on the practice, Tia pretending to watch. Watch them skate, watch them shoot, watch them do drills, watch Taylour play with Caleb, watch Caleb watch the practice. She focuses on nothing except Christina’s last words.

“Tia,” Auston nods his head, beckoning her over. Leaving Taylour with Christina she makes her way to him where he, Patty and a few other teammates lingering on the ice as everyone else heads off.

“Patty was gonna bring Caleb out for a skate, can Taylour stick around?”

Noting the time on her watch she sighs. She only has less than thirty minutes to get him to daycare and to class without being late. But the TTC is always late. She’d much rather leave now and have a buffer than be rushed.

“I gotta leave like now,” Tia replies. Turning to Taylour she sighs, the smile on his face hasn’t faded all morning and she doesn’t want to pull him away. When he sees Caleb going onto the ice his brown eyes will plead with her. A large pout will form on his face and tears will brim in his eyes while his bottom lip quivers. He perfected the fake tears, but Tia knows these tears won’t be fake instead the real thing, making it that much worse.

So worried about Taylour she doesn’t even see the disappointment written all over Auston’s face. “Can you take him to daycare after?”

“I mean I could just watch him until you’re done class,” he offers.

“I’m not done until 3:30, you have a game later you need to get ready for, a nap.” Tia knew his game day routine back in Zurich, and it was something he doesn’t stray from.

“I also have a kid,” he laughs. “You’re such a mom, worrying all the time. Get out of here we’ll be fine. Besides he’ll take a nap in a bit, we can nap together.”

“If you’re sure,” she agrees.

“You’re so fast!” Taylour runs over to him.

Bending down to his eye level he pulls Taylour against him, the added thickness from his hockey equipment engulfs Taylour more than normal. “You smell daddy,” Taylour giggles.

“Thanks,” Auston laughs, “you want to come skate for a bit?”

“Yes.” He has a large smile as he nods against his chest.

“Okay,” standing up he pulls Taylour with him. “Mommy has to go to school, so let’s go skate and you’ll see her when she is done.”

“Bye Mommy,” he barely manages a wave as he looks over his shoulder to the ice, eyes beaming and a large grin on his face.

Taglist: If you are in this list you have expressed interest in the series (either through likes/reblogs or by asking). If it’s crossed out your tag didn’t work. If you would like to be removed or added to the list send me an ask:

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[puccbunni]

Bad For Me

A/N: This is another self-indulgent fic… Are you noticing a trend? I love this fridge of a man and this trope just… ~gets me going~! As always, please let me know what you think. Enjoy!

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: Nothing other than it being an age gap… Obviously this is also smut. So, consider yourself warned.

Masterlist

Freddie thinks he’s too old for you, but the age gap doesn’t stop him from staring. 

You’re one of Auston’s friends, another twenty-something living it up in Toronto, so Fred knows you’re no good for him and he knows he doesn’t make sense for you, but he never stops daydreaming. Of course, he does so from behind tinted sunglasses, hoping that you don’t catch on to his wandering eyes. It’s hard not to indulge himself when you’re in Arizona the same week as him, parading around Auston’s house in that stringy little bathing suit that could come apart with just a tug of his fingers. 

Keep reading

[puccbunni]

congratulations, you are all alone with matty tkachuk

i'm so sorry there's no excuse for what i've done here

pairing: matthew tkachuk x reader

warnings: angst of the highest degree, toxic relationship, mentions of possible infidelity

word count: 1k

congratulations, you are all alone

Matty is bad news.

You know this. You’ve known this since the second you met him in a dark, drab, and nearly empty bar in downtown Calgary. Since the first time he stood you up. Since the first time he’d told you that he didn’t want anything serious and then proceeded to give you the cold shoulder when he’d seen you out with another guy. Since the first offseason he’d gone home and ignored you the entire summer. Since the first time he’d all but promised you that you were the only girl he was interested in before proceeding to ghost you while parading around with a host of other women plastered all over his private social media accounts.

Matty is bad news but you still come running when he calls.

Maybe it’s the way he knows exactly what makes your body tick. Maybe it’s the way he can shape and mould you into an image that pleases him, twist and turn and pull and touch your body until you see heaven. Maybe it’s the sweet words he mutters into the quiet, dark night, spoken into your hair and against your skin and scraped against your neck. Maybe it’s the gentle way he regards you when it’s all said and done, the sweet after care, the way he holds you and soothes you and damn near loves you.

Until the morning light when you wake up alone and sad and don’t hear from him for a week.

The thing is, you know how this ends. You’ve seen this movie a thousand times, watched it under the cover of darkness between your sheets and your thick, warm duvet cover. The scenes have flashed forward at twenty eight times speed, and reversed even more slowly, pausing on the hardest moments and the devastating looks on your face, yet playing through the sweetest memories. No happy ending was ever promised to you, no fairytale after the denouement, no godmother or pixie dust or true love’s kiss were ever going to be waiting for you.

Your carriage was always going to turn into a pumpkin, your fabulous dress back into rags, your sparkling heels into slippers and your elegant updo would fade into unwashed hair, a consequence of the depression you would fall into when he was gone for good.

And yet he convinces you otherwise, sweet words like honey on his tongue, bombing you with love and lies that felt like promises, taking advantage of your desire not only to be loved but to be loved by him.

You don’t know what would be worse, the idea that he had fallen out of love with you now or the idea that he’d never loved you to begin with. That you’d just been part of his sick games, a pawn to his king, the consolation prize that was nothing more than cheap plastic, easily discarded. That the love that you’d convinced yourself that you’d seen in his eyes had never existed or that it had slowly been snuffed out like the last remnants of smoke and ash in his fireplace.

When it’s good it’s so good, the perfect situationship, his attention fully and completely on you. His touch is soft, his words sweet, everything about him and you is so intoxicating you forget how to breathe. But when it’s bad, it’s awful. Days, weeks without communication, and when you do speak it’s like he’s speaking in tongues all the while blaming you for everything that’s going wrong. His scoring slumps, his reputation in the media, his penalties every night. His presence is a death grip that steals the breath from your lungs, coiling around your body like a snake.

Your fault, your fault, your fault.

But then it’s good again, and he’s sorry that he let you down. These days are fine and he toes the line between begging and what feels like sincere emotion. You forgive him and you love him and you let him be the center of your universe while you’re nothing more than a supernova in his - pretty to look at, but the last remnants of a dying star.

You come to the realization that it’s not worth it, that he’s not worth it, that his false promises of gold are nothing but painted iron in the middle of the season. He’s in a slump, kept off the scoreboard for four games and counting and he’s so mad at you that he tells you not to come to his birthday.

Really it’s the day before, with a game falling on the actual day. The Flames are doing just fine, it’s Matty who’s stuck and he seems to take it even harder that way. You don’t know if it’s outside pressure from the media, from the coaching staff or the front office, or his own fears that he’s not worth what they thought he should be, but he’s mad and he takes it out on you.

It’s embarrassing, viewing the birthday actions of the man you know you’re in love with through social media and the text messages from his teammates and friends asking where you are. The last straw is the briefest glimpse of your boyfriend (friend? Guy you hook up with? Person who takes up all of your spare time but gives you none of his in return?) with his hands placed precariously low on some pretty girl’s back.

Your response isn’t particularly dramatic. You don’t go full Carrie Underwood on his Audi, don’t burn his clothes on the street, but you do pack up everything he ever gave you and everything he ever left behind in your apartment and drop it off at his alongside the key he’d begrudgingly gave you if only for easier access to your body at night. And then you slowly and methodically delete and block not only his number and social media accounts, but those belonging to every person even remotely related to him.

When Matty gets home, drunk on someone else’s attention and wearing her perfume and shade of lipstick on his collar, he finds the box of his things alongside a hastily torn piece of paper from your planner. It reads one simple phrase.

Congratulations, you are all alone.

[puccbunni]

Because Two People Got Drunk

Epilogue Seven: Full Circle

Series Masterlist

A/N: This piece takes place when the kids are teenagers. Elise is 14 almost 15. The twins almost 16 and Oliver 18.

Warnings: Swearing, drinking, angst, cheating, heartache

Word Count: 4500

“Mom you should go talk to Elise,” Oliver says walking into the kitchen and heading straight for the fridge. Busying yourself with dinner, cutting up some vegetables you gently set the knife on the counter and turn your eyes to meet him. Fred locks his phone as a confused crease presses onto his forehead.

“She just came home, she was crying,” Oliver further explains, tugging the door open.

Noah, completely oblivious to the situation walks up to Oliver, giving him a playful shove to get into the fridge. “Your mom is literally making dinner right now,” Fred mumbles, shaking his head at his forever growing boys.

Currently there is quite a size difference between your sons, mostly because of their ages. The twins are almost 16 and Oliver will be 18 in the fall. It’s not that there is a major height difference, it’s more their frames. Oliver, through his time in the OHL recently begun to fill out with his time in the gym where the twins have a smaller musculature. Not to say they aren’t closing the gap, just that there is a ways to go.

“Did you ask her what’s wrong?” you ask knowing Elise and Oliver have always had a close relationship. Noah and Lucas being identical twins, always had a strong bond but your oldest became attached to Elise from the day she came home. The two of them FaceTime multiple times a week when he is in London, and you have countless pictures of her curled up in his bed when they were kids, and you’re fairly confident that she confides a fair bit in her older brother.

“Dude fuck off,” Oliver chuckles when Noah gives him yet another soft shove while reaching in for a snack.

“Dude language,” Fred says in a firm but mocking tone, causing your two sons to stop their horseplay and look towards you with heat on their cheeks.

“She walked in and I could tell she had been crying. I asked her what was wrong and she said fuck off,” he repeats the words again, “before running upstairs and slamming her door.”

You sigh and Fred gets up from his spot, coming up beside you he places one hand on your back and the other reaching for your wrist. Grabbing the knife from your hand he leans in closer to your ear speaking in a soft tone, “I got this babe.”

“Kay,” you sigh, walking out of the kitchen towards your daughter’s room.

You hear her before you even get to the door. Her sobs are slightly muffled through the closed door but you can hear her whimpers and your heart breaks into a million pieces. Just when you think it can’t break any more you slowly open the door and see her. Curled up on her bed, Maggie tight to her chest, slowly running her hands through her fur as she whimpers against her. The sight of her so tightly clinging to Maggie shatters the few remaining pieces you had left.

As the door creaks open Maggie’s ears perk up at the sound but she doesn’t move; knowing where she is needed. Sensing Elise’s pain.

You crawl into the bed on the other side of Maggie. Maggie doesn’t flinch as you start to scratch behind her ear, her big dark brown eyes pleading at you to help. After a few deep shuddering breaths Elise’s eyes flick up to yours, red and puffy, glossy with tears. Her eyes close as some warm tears continue to fall, rolling down her cheeks. The only sound is her sniffles and sobs while the three of you lie there, squished against each other.

“What’s going on baby?” you ask, noticing her sobs are few and far between, chest no longer heaving. Lightly brushing the hair off her forehead and behind her ear.

“Nothing.” She tries to placate but her words are hollow.

“Kay.” You slowly run your hands through her hair, “well I’m just going to stay here with my girls for a little bit.”

She nods slightly, you know she just needs some more time before she is ready to talk. You know she was out with Alexis last night, and spent the night at her place. She called you in the morning and said she was going to stay a little bit longer, but would be home in time for dinner and she seemed fine then, even happy, but that was over six hours ago.

Apparently the life of an almost 15 year old can fall apart in six hours.

“Blake,” she finally whispers, causing you to sigh.

Blake is her boyfriend, they have been together for over a year, though you think they have been off and on during that time. He is a year older than her, and plays on the soccer team with Lucas, but the two of them aren’t friends. Lucas never said why they don’t get along, but whenever he is over, neither he nor Noah spend much time talking to him.

Because of that Fred doesn’t like him.

He says there must be an obvious reason why your two sons dislike this boy, the boy who is the same age as them. They have classes and teams together, and play on some teams together. While it’s not assumed they would be best friends, at the very least he would expect them to be cordial. However, whenever Blake is over there is an obvious tension between them.

“You guys get in a fight sweetie?” you ask.

Giving you a half nod, a whimpered, “yes,” falls from her quivering lips. You bring your thumb to her eye to wipe away her tears. “You can talk to me about it if you want. Believe it or not I was a teenager once, even had some boyfriends before your father.”

“Promise you won’t get mad.”

“Of course baby, why would I?” you ask softly, but you can sense the dread lacing her tone. Keeping your thumb on her cheek, never pulling your eyes off of her, you continue to brush the tears that haven’t stopped rolling down her cheek.

Taking a deep breath she starts talking, her voice somewhat uneasy, “last night I went to a party with Blake and some of friends.” She stops to examine your face but you keep the same expression even after hearing she lied to you. The preference would have been for her to tell you she is going to a party instead of lying about being at a friends, something teenage you was all to familiar with. But, whether or not you like it, lying to your parents is a part of being a teenager. Keeping your eyes soft and full of concern, you wait for her to continue.

“We went upstairs to a room and started kissing–“ she trails off. You feel your body wanting to stiffen, hearing that your daughter could be sexually active. You didn’t expect her to wait forever, but 14 seems a little young for her to be heading down that path. That’s just your opinion and ultimately her choice.

“Well he wanted it to go further, but I didn’t.”

If at all possible that sentence pulls all the oxygen from the room, leaving you struggling to breath. “He didn’t –“ you start to ask. Trying to remain calm your heart begins to beat erratically imagining all the ways that sentence could end. All of the horrible things that could have unfolded.

“No Mom, nothing like that” your heart begins to beat like normal as you calm down. “I told him I wanted to stop, he got mad and we fought. He said we’ve been together for a year and all his friends were doing stuff so we should be too. But I just…I’m not ready, so I left and went downstairs, Alexis and I left and went back to her place for the night.”

You continue to run your hand over her cheek, proud of your daughter for standing up for herself. Not giving in to the pressure he was putting her under.

“Before I dated your father I went on a date with someone, his name was Mike. It was just one date, but he made multiple comments about just being there for sex before we even finished our salads. On the drive home he tried to take things to a place where I didn’t want them to go. I did exactly what you did, I got out of the situation and to a safe space. I am so proud of you babygirl for sticking up for yourself and breaking up with him. But, I am so sorry you had to do that, you shouldn’t have had to deal with that”, tears have pricked the edges of your eyes. “You never should have been in that situation. He shouldn’t have put you in that situation.”

You bring your hand to hers and give it a tight squeeze sending her a soft smile. You can sense there is something more to this story because she falls quiet turning her attention back to Maggie gently scratching the top of her head. You hear her mumble a few words but her voice cracks and you can’t make out what she said.

“What was that baby?”

“I said he cheated on me,” she repeats, her voice softer than a whisper. Her bottom lip begins to tremble as tears well in her eyes once again.

Your back stiffens at her words and you stop brushing her tears away. Taking a deep sigh you squeeze her hand once again, “I’m so sorry” you say as she looks at you. Her eyes are broken as her bottom lip trembles, struggling to not break down. Through your lifetime you have gone through an insurmountable amount of pain, but you’d go through it all again if you could stop hers.

“Before we left the party he said if I wouldn’t sleep with him he would find someone else that would. Some of my friends saw him kissing another girl and told me about it earlier today.” Her body starts to shake again as tears spill onto her cheek. “He says they just kissed.”

“That doesn’t matter. You shouldn’t be with someone who says that, let alone does that,” you grumble bitterly.

“My heart hurts mom, like really hurts,” she sobs. “It feels like someone punched it out of my chest. I’m so mad, absolutely infuriated but I want to call him. I want to hug him and accept his apology.” Her voice sounds just as broken as you are, her eyes are dark and baggy as she tries to mask her pain. “He always knows how to make me feel better.”

“I get it baby, it’s hard to be cheated on. Your head wants to be the voice of reason but your heart struggles to accept it and let it go.”

“You were cheated on?” she asks bringing her eyes up to yours.

“Yeah” you sigh trailing off. “Your dad kissed another woman.”

“WHAT!” she exclaims, her tone alarms Maggie whose head pops up.

“It was years ago, when I was pregnant with Lucas and Noah. He kissed someone at a bar while out of town for hockey.”

Her eyes go wide darting across your face, trying to process what you said. The two of you lie silently your eyes flicking over hers, her eyes flicking over you. All three boys took Fred’s eyes but not Elise, she has yours. Looking at her is like looking in a mirror, a younger mirror.

“So you think I should forgive him? I mean you forgave dad,” she finally asks.

“That was different.” Over the years you have thought about it less and less, to the point it’s a distant memory. But today in this moment everything comes flooding back. You can feel your blood begin to boil, reliving that time.

“If you didn’t have kids would you have forgiven him?”

“Honestly,” you sigh “I don’t know. It took me a week and a half to even talk to him. But if we didn’t have kids I wouldn’t have stayed in the house. I would have went to a hotel and who knows how long I would have waited to talk to him, if I ever did.”

You trail off for a minute, “if you do decide to forgive him, and I’m not saying you should or shouldn’t, only you can make that decision hun. But if you do decide to or even consider forgiving him, just make sure you talk it out. Get everything out in the open now. Your dad and I were going to start the process of talking about what happened and then I got in the car accident. When the dust settled I brushed him off not bothering to talk about it, said it wasn’t important. Months later I saw him talking to a woman and got super jealous. I didn’t realize how fractured our trust still was because we never talked about it. So, take your time, I took over a week to think about it. You have to be 100% with your decision. If you go down that route, make sure you lay it all out now, no matter how hard it is.”

She nods slightly turning her attention back to Maggie. The three of you lie silently for a few minutes before she lets out a heavy, exhaustive sigh. “I’m kind of tired mom, I think I want to have a nap.”

“Of course,” you rise off the bed and kiss her forehead. “You know where to find me baby,” you say walking out the door, shutting it softly on your way out.

“How’s she doing?” Fred asks when you walk back into the kitchen. You mumble under your breath and head to the wine room, pulling a bottle and two glasses. You pour one for yourself, handing the other to Fred who makes no attempt to grab it instead his eyes are trained on you.

Setting his on the counter, you bring yours to your lips, faintly smelling the apple and pears before pouring it all in your mouth in one quick motion. Fred’s eyes continue to dart over yours trying to get a read on the situation. You can tell with every second he becomes more concerned, but you just need a minute.

“Her and Blake,” you trail off, pouring yourself another hefty glass. You aren’t sure how to finish the sentence, so you lift the glass, swirling it in your hand before dropping it back down, “he cheated on her.”

“WHAT!” his voice echoes through the entire kitchen.

“He kissed someone else,” you say lightly, unsure if he even heard you.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he yells over you.

“Nope,” you pop the P. Bringing the glass up to your lips taking a large drink, glaring at him over the rim of your glass. There is a large pit in your stomach, partially for your daughter but also because of your husband’s indiscretion many years ago.

“What a scumbag,” he unclenches his fist, his large palm hitting the counter. The noise while loud doesn’t even phase you, but you do see Noah poke his head around the corner at the commotion. You don’t say anything instead you move to the island taking a seat while Fred processes.

His face is pure red, you can almost see the steam leaving his ears. Pacing around the kitchen he abandons the wine glass, heading over to the bar pulling out a bottle of whiskey. He sits beside you bottle in hand, you can hear his uneasy breathing. He mumbles in Danish under his breath slowly drinking his whiskey.

“At least she isn’t with him anymore, he can’t hurt her anymore.”

“She might stay with him,” you respond, taking another drink.

“What! Why would she do that? He cheated on her! What kind of person stays with someone who cheats on them?”

His tone gets louder, more intense with every word. He likely didn’t anticipate that coming out as harsh and critical as it did, but it did and it burns. Processing what he said, you begin to feel stupid, embarrassed, but also irritable. Your skin crawls whilst simultaneously feeling numb.

You were that person.

You stayed with him after he cheated.

“I did,” you finally whisper turning to look at Fred. His eyes soften with the realization of what he said about you. “I stayed with you…and you…you kissed someone else.”

“You kissed another woman!” Lucas yells. Both of you turn your attention to the other side of the room, having no idea he was there. His announcement captures Oliver and Noah’s attention and they both quickly make their way into the kitchen. Three sets of brown eyes glare at you with matching expressions, shock.

Turning to Fred you see the panic on his face, eyes are wide and he is shifting uncomfortably on his seat. His face is red, no longer with anger but with embarrassment.

“Yes,” he huffs, awkwardly shifting in his seat. “When she was pregnant with you two, I um…I kissed someone one night at a bar. It was one time, one kiss and I felt terrible, still do.”

“But I forgave you because that was my choice, just like its E’s choice if she wants to forgive Blake,” you explain. “We just have to support her no matter what she decides.”

“He cheated on her!” Noah exclaims. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Just wait for practice tomorrow,” Lucas mutters under his breath.

“Luke,” you warn, but he just shakes his head, mumbling more and more under his breath.

Everyone is very uneasy. Uneasy with hearing Elise was cheated on. Uneasy with the news that Fred cheated on you. Uneasy about everything. Tension rapidly builds in the kitchen, nobody saying anything as you finish the wine in your glass.

“I’m gonna go see her” Oliver says, leaving the rest of you.

The four of you stay in the kitchen, the twins with many questions. This was never meant to be a secret from them, there was just never a reason to bring it up. And this wasn’t supposed to be the way they would find out.

Fred answers most of them while you sit silently, swirling the wine that sits in the glass. Most of the voices fade into the background and you are unable to look at Fred. The cut from him kissing another woman is fresh, not an old wound, but it stings as bad as when you first found out.

“How are you doing?” Fred asks finding you in the living room. The fireplace is on low, the only light as you sit in almost pure darkness. Curled under the blanket with a glass of wine that’s now warm, a half eaten plate of dinner resting on the coffee table.

You always eat dinner together on Sunday’s. Ideally the six of you would eat together every night, but between everyone’s activities, friends, dates, school assignments, you are lucky to find another night. But Sunday, that is the night, no matter what you all eat together. Sometimes Mitch and Steph will join you with Charlie and Steven, other times one or all of your kids partners join you. No matter what, at least the six of you sit down for dinner.

Not tonight.

Fred and the twins ate dinner in a relative silence, the only sound knives scratching the plates. Oliver brought a plate of food upstairs for him and Elise and you haven’t seen either of them sine. Wanting some space, you brought yours into the living room. Not the living room where the family has movie nights or opens presents on Christmas morning, but the other living room. The one at the front of the house, with couches that rarely get sat on, walls that rarely hear voices.

“Alright” you respond, as he sits on the couch beside you. It’s not entirely the truth but also not entirely a lie. “Haven’t thought about it in a while.”

“Want to talk about it?” he asks and you shake your head.

“Honestly, I don’t see a point in hitting a nail on the head. It was years ago and we talked about it, with what she’s going through, it brings it up a bit.”

“Yeah I know,” he sighs, it’s evident the strain of this afternoon has taken its toll on him. His eyes are hollow, movement slow, lingering weight pressing on his shoulders.

“I’m just worried about E” you say.

“She’s a smart girl, strong, just like her mom. She’ll be fine,” his thumb gently soothes over your ankle. A small smile pricks the corner of your lips. Sitting in silence the low crackling of the fire is all that you can hear, Elise still in her room and the boys somewhere, watching something quietly. Your head falls against the back of the couch as Fred moves his hand around to gently massage the ball of your foot.

The light in the hall flickers on followed by Maggie’s nails clicking against the hardwood floor. Your head pops up when Elise walks in, watching as she opens the sliding door to let Maggie out. “Hey sweetie” Fred says, following her as she walks around the couch. Her shoulders are heavy and head hangs low, face is puffy but her eyes are no longer red.

“Hi Daddy,” she replies, sitting on the other side of Fred. Pulling your legs away Elise curls in to Fred’s lap, her head resting on his shoulder. He quickly engulfs her in his arms, letting her head fall onto his shoulder. “Why do boys suck?” Her brows crease, tone heavy with anger and frustration.

“I don’t know,” Fred sighs, gently soothing his thumb over her shoulder.

“You suck,” Elise mutters quietly.

“What was that E?” he asks.

“I said you suck,” she repeats, louder this time, bringing her eyes up to his. “You cheated on mom so you suck too!”

“I know,” Fred agrees with a sigh, not even attempting to argue that sentiment. “I’m a dick.”

Smirking slightly at her as you nod along, Elise chuckles, likely the first time all day. “Why’d you do it?” she asks him.

“Honestly E, I don’t have a reason, there isn’t one. There is never an explanation or justification for it. I’m just lucky your mom gave me a second chance.”

“Should I give him a second chance?” she asks with a contemplative exhale.

“Only you can answer that E,” he hums, trying to hide his preferred opinion.

One of the things you and Fred have always wanted is your kids to build independence. To be their own people and make their own decisions. Lucas did that at 13 when he said he wanted to quit hockey. He was so nervous to tell Fred, thinking that he’d be disappointed. But all you have ever wanted is for them to make a decision and be proud of it, to stick with it.

Obviously it was something that would jeopardize themselves or someone else you would immediately step in, but otherwise they need to live their lives. Sometimes that means making a choice you aren’t entirely thrilled about, a choice they come to regret. But everything will lead to them becoming better and stronger individuals as a result.

“Did it surprise you? When you found out, were you shocked to hear he kissed someone else or was there a part of you that almost felt it coming?”

Both of them turn to look at you, matching confusion evident on their faces. Furrowed brows and scrunched up noses, trying to understand your question.

“When your dad…when I found out, I was completely and wholeheartedly shocked. I never in million years thought he would do that,” you explain. Catching the heartbreak on Fred’s face you don’t stop, “I think that’s why I forgave him. It was so out of character for him, I knew he’d never do it again.” Blinking away the tears that threaten to spill, Fred cracks a small half smile while he softly squeezes your ankle.

Nobody says anything. The fireplace flickers red off everyone’s face, the sound of shaky breaths and a few sniffles all that can be heard. Seconds turn to minutes as everything continues to fade further and further.

“It didn’t,” Elise is the one to break the silence. “It didn’t surprise me,” she sighs heavily. Placing a kiss on Fred’s cheek she pushes away from him and off the couch and heads down the hall, leaving you two alone.

“I’m so sorry elskede.” Turning his attention to you and tugging your leg, you slide into his lap. Feeling a warm kiss to your temple, your head lands on his shoulder, the gentle beating of his heart pulsing against your ear. “Sorry I put you through that,” lifting your chin, his lips brush against yours, “I don’t deserve you.”

“I love you,” you simply state, kissing him back.

Walking into the living room, Maggie circles her feet. “Elise!” Noah calls out moving over to create some space. “E-money,” Lucas beckons.

“I hate when you call me that,” her face scrunches up.

“That’s why I do it,” he laughs as she grabs the bowl of popcorn from him and falls onto the couch.

“I don’t want to watch the Raptors,” she groans. Reaching for the remote in an attempt to turn it off Noah quickly pulls it away from her.

“Just because your upset doesn’t mean you get to be a bitch,” Noah jokes, a devilish grin on his face.

“Noah,” she whines, giving him a slight nudge with her foot. "Blake used to watch the Raptors games all the time.”

“Oh my god,” Noah grumbles. Running his hand through his copper hair he sighs before changing the channel, “you can’t use that again for an entire week.”

“So you want me to beat him up or what?” Lucas winks.

“A little bit,” Elise laughs, somewhat jokingly.

“Soccer ball to the face enough? Or do I need to really rough him up for ya?” he asks with a smirk.

“Whatever you want Luke,” she shakes her head.

“Obviously a soccer ball isn’t enough, the fuck kind of question is that?” Noah laughs.

“I can’t punch him in the face if she is going to get back together with him,” Lucas explains, as if it’s the most obvious thing.

“I’m not getting back with him,” Elise states.

“Good, never liked him,” Noah grins, grabbing a handful of popcorn.

“Kids a jackass,” Lucas says, causing the three of them to laugh.

Hearing the laughter from down the hall you begin to feel at ease for the first time in almost five hours. “She’s gonna be fine,” you whisper against Fred’s chest.

“With you as a mom? I never had any doubt."

Taglist: If you are in this list you have expressed interest in the series (either through likes/reblogs or by asking). If it’s crossed out your tag didn’t work. If you would like to be removed or added to the list send me an ask:

@mandypants95 @hockeyjedi13 @hockeyunits @meishaabae @localcalumhoe @dana-hqy @sixmapleleafs @puccbunni @starswin @hockeyinaussie @je-ne-regrette-rien @mollybirk @daniellepulice72

[puccbunni]

Do you think you’d do a part two to your traded fic with Freddie?!

Honestly I have been thinking about an idea sooooo stay tuned 😉

[puccbunni]

Too Far Gone - Part Twenty

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Swearing, a little drinking, mentions of stripping, alluding to mental health issues (not explicitly stated/ discussed), cocaine use

Word Count: 6450

March 11, 2019

“Ready to get back?” Becks asks sitting on the couch, easing into the topic she really wants to get into.

Thanks to the money Tia reluctantly accepted from Auston she has a little flexibility but still needs to return. She put over half of it toward her credit card leaving a small portion in her savings. Without enough to cover all of her upcoming bills, she has a couple options: pay her bills on her credit card and worry about the payments later, get back to work so she can pay them herself, or her least favourite option is to ask Auston for more help.

There would be zero hesitation on his part. When he dropped her off over a week ago he made her promise to ask if she needed more. Striving to remain independent makes her reluctant to accept his help, leaving the preferred option to return to work. She could wait a few more weeks but then she would be in a dire situation. Instead of her current plan which is 2-3 nights a week, which will allow her to ease into it and cut back if its too stressful while also saving enough to cover the difference in her bank account she would be forced to work 4-5 nights a week.

Tomorrow is her first shift back at the club, meaning tonight is a girl’s night with Becks, hoping it can quell her nerves.

“Yes and no. I’m excited for some, I don’t know, I guess normalcy, but I’m worried about the rumours and stories starting back up again. The time off was really nice with Taylour too.”

“Yeah I bet,” Becks smiles. “How have things been with Auston?” she asks cautiously, knowing a rollercoaster barely describes everything.

“He was on a road trip for a few days, so apart from FaceTime I haven’t had to see him much after that night,” Tia explains. “It was weird though, I still don’t know what to think.”

After Auston told her to consider getting psychiatric help it was tense. She didn’t chuckle during the Harvard application video, she didn’t laugh when Paulette broke the UPS guys’ nose or recite some of her favourite lines like she normally does. Instead she pulled her phone out and sent Becks a few texts, every time being met with the reply ‘stop texting me and talk to him.’

Well that wasn’t an option.

Tia wanted to, but every time she thought of what to say it came across too harsh. There was no way to say ‘you have barely talked to me in the past 3 years, you don’t know what I need’ or 'how can you possibly think you know what's best?' without venom laced in her tone. Every possible thought she formulated led to the same outcome and would ruin the point of the evening so she said nothing.

The tension was evident to Auston so he sat silently glaring at the TV. He knew giving her the card was approaching a line possibly even passing it. But it's something she needs, and he isn't alone in this thought, which is why he dealt with the glares and excessive sighing.

Part way through he brought out an excessive amount of snacks; popcorn, M&M’s, fuzzy peaches, jelly beans, Kit Kats, and her favourite Mike and Ike’s. The simple gesture loosened the wall she had built. She stopped running through situations in her head and sank into his couch.

As the credits began to roll he put on The Office, her favourite episode with the Dundies. The fireplace was roaring a few feet away and Tia was finally beginning to enjoy herself. By the time the next one started they had stopped watching and were talking.

They avoided some of the more controversial topics like her mom, her dad, Claire, the article, his family. They didn’t think about how this could have been their lives if things were different. Not wanting to deal with the repercussions of digging up old graves they talked about everything else.

He told her about some of his teammates, including Fred. He told her about sharing a room with Mitch on the road. They talk about Patty, a name Tia had heard before. He told her how he and his wife have been really helpful throughout this process. He asked if she would be okay with him buying Taylour some skates and maybe taking him to the rink to get some more practice in. Given his constant pestering to ‘play hockey’ and scratching of Tia’s floors it was an easy decision.

She admitted to him she dropped a couple classes, something he already knew from Becks, but it meant more hearing it from her. She told him she was still on track to graduate next year, but instead of finishing December 2019 it would be after the winter semester, April 2020. She told him a little more about her friends he hasn’t met, Max, Sarah and Abby.

During their talking, Tia let it slip that she sold her sewing machine almost two years ago for rent money. That she hadn’t designed something outside of school assignments since then. That the only time she actually sat down with a sketch book was when she was being graded. Auston’s heart broke a listening to this, because it seemed like she almost accepted that. That she was content giving up on her dream. Not wanting to press his luck, worried it wasn't his place he said nothing.

Her eyes began to get heavy, and eventually her speech slowed. Her responses became more hmms and grunts. Maybe it was because she hadn’t slept well in weeks, or maybe it was because she felt comfortable, but she ended up drifting off.

He let her sleep.

Partly because it was very obvious she needed to sleep, but a small part of him couldn't wake her because she looked so peaceful. Pulling his phone out he scrolled through Instagram, then Twitter, paid some bills and even caught up on the world news. He answered a few unread texts from that night, then re-opened Instagram before eventually nudging her awake and driving her home.

The next day he left for a road trip and they haven't had much time together since then to see how things will be once they see each other again. If they have finally made some headway and everything will slowly get better or if they will fall back into old habits, drowning in tension.

“He has been getting Taylour’s room ready, has sent me a million screenshots.” Pulling her phone out she opens up the conversation thread, letting Becks read it.

“Okay, but that is super cute, he just wants it to be perfect,” Becks smiles, handing the phone back.

“Yeah,” Tia laughs. She has tried repeatedly to tell him that Taylour won’t care at all about his comforter or bookshelf. He is a two year old and he’ll just be happy to spend time with him, but that clearly isn’t sufficient for Auston. “It’s done now though, he is taking him tomorrow night.”

“He must be really excited.”

“Very,” Tia laughs, not sure which he Becks refers to.

“Okay but what else is happening with you two? I mean you guys slept together and –“

“He had a girlfriend.”

“Please,” she scoffs rolling her eyes. “They weren’t together then, they basically broke up weeks before at the charity thing. Claire even recently came to that realization.”

“Glad she did a month after she blabbed to the paper,” Tia mutters. “You have a date tomorrow?” she asks, trying to steer the conversation away from this.

Knowing what she is doing, Becks rolls her eyes and sighs before continuing with the topic change. “Camille, she works at the library too. You met her a couple times, short dark hair, has a tat right here,” Becks points to her forearm.

“Yeah I remember her, one time I was out of print credits and she ‘accidentally’ left the master key beside me. I would have failed Mr. Kurzalo’s class if I didn’t get that printed…she seems nice.”

“Mhm, I think so. I didn’t think she was into me, but she just came up yesterday and asked. Completely surprised me, but I’m really looking forward to it.”

“Good,” Tia gently squeezes her friend’s hand, both of them grinning widely.

“Okay but seriously what is going on?” Becks smiles, bringing the conversation back. “You have told me nothing about your night, you came home and basically went to bed.”

“Oh my god,” Tia groans. “I have told you nothing, because nothing happened.”

“You’re lying,” Becks whines. “You spent hours over at his place, it was like 3am when you came home, something had to have happened.”

“It was very awkward at first, then it was only partially awkward. We talked about his hockey, Taylour, my school. I fell asleep, he brought me home.”

“That’s it?”

“Yes and that’s all it ever will be. We’re just getting to a place where we can be around each other and it not be painfully uncomfortable. Honestly after what he said…and what I said, I just can’t see us ever being able to put that behind us.”

“What do you mean?”

“That night he tried to take him,” Tia explains. “I told him he legally had no right to be in his life. I basically said he was nothing to Taylour. How could he want to be with someone who said that to him?”

“Okay, but you’re thinking of having him listed on the birth certificate.”

“That doesn’t right my wrong,” she says sighing heavily. “It's better this way, we’ll just be two exes raising a kid together, happens a lot. To much has happened for us to get past, and honestly I don't want to go back down that road with him.”

Arriving at Tia’s the next day, Auston has some extra pep in his step. It was ten days since Tia said he could have Taylour overnight. It might seem like a lot of time but with a road trip he found himself scrambling to get everything done as fast as possible. Knowing the sooner its ready, the sooner Taylour can come. He scoured websites of local shops for furniture, ordered an excessive amount of toys from Amazon.

Returning home after the road trip his first stop after seeing Taylour was the paint store. He forced Fred to help him paint, and re-paint when he didn’t like the colour. Then he made Fred help him assemble the furniture. Once done they set up all the toys and quickly realized he had way too many so he donated over half to charity. He asked Christina to come check it out, see if he missed anything. He FaceTimed with his mom to show it all to her, and both of them gave the stamp of approval.

Knocking on the door, Tia is quick to open it, Taylour clinging to her hip. As soon as Taylour sees Auston, his brown eyes light up a large smile spreading on his face. “Daddy,” he grins.

“Hi,” Auston scoops him up, “I missed you.”

“I miss you,” he repeats back. “I…I…I watched you on the TV,” he explains pointing to the television.

“We put Sportsnet on for a bit and he saw some of your highlights and interview,” Tia explains.

“You did?” Auston smiles.

“Mhm,” he nods in response. “We play hockey?”

“Actually, you’re going to daddy’s house,” Tia explains for the third time today. “You’re going to have a sleepover remember?”

Taylour purses his lips, and his forehead creases thinking over her question. “We can play hockey at my house, I have ministicks there,” Auston explains.

“Okay!” he happily agrees.

“You’re going to have such a good time,” Tia leans over and places a kiss on his cheek. “So much fun with daddy.”

Auston lets Tia pull Taylour from him and she peppers his temple, cheeks, forehead, and really any part of his face with kisses. Tears prick in her eyes and Taylour groans at the tight grasp she has on him but she doesn’t let up.

“Geez,” Auston mumbles. Noting the tears in her eyes he wraps his arms around the two of them and she reluctantly leans into his touch, “it’s just one night T.”

“I know,” she sniffles against him. “I just…he always sleeps here. Sometimes he’d fall asleep at Becks while I worked, but I always brought him here after my shift. I have never had a morning without him,” she fights to hold back the tears.

The more Auston kept coming around, the more she knew this day would come. The day when he takes Taylour for a night or even a weekend, she tried to mentally prepare herself for it, but nothing could have prepared her for how much her heart would break.

“I’m bringing him back on my way to practice tomorrow, it’s not even 24 hours,” he says, breathing out a laugh.

“It’s the longest I’ll have been away from him.”

“No wonder he’s such a momma’s boy,” Auston jokes.

“Isn’t this the pot calling the kettle black,” she laughs through her tears.

“We have all afternoon, we can hang out here for a bit first,” he offers, ignoring her teasing.

“No. This is your time, and the longer you put it off for the harder it will be for me,” she replies, passing Taylour back. “But if you need anything –“

“I won’t.”

“But if you do –“

“I’ll call you right away.”

“Okay,” she pulls away. Glancing at Taylour she places a final kiss on his cheek while handing Auston a small bag, “I love you Tay,” she says, choking on her tears.

“Love you mommy!” he squeals, unaware of what she is going through.

“You live here?” Taylour asks walking in. “It’s so cool.” His eyes immediately find the toys; a small basketball net, a large dump truck and plastic airplane. The objects too large for the toy box that’s a few feet away. “Look at the toys!” he shrieks, running over to them, leaving Auston behind at the door.

“See these Taylour?” Auston asks, opening the lid of the toy box.

Socks slide on the wood floor as he runs over to Auston, “woah! Who are those for?”

“You,” Auston grins.

“For me!” his eyes light up brighter than a Christmas tree, “all of them?”

“Yeah,” Auston laughs. “What do you want to play with first?”

“Ummm,” his index finger finds his chin as he ponders the decision. “Uhhh…this one!”

Reaching in, he pulls out a firetruck. Setting it on the floor, Auston reaches down and presses a button, the siren going off. “Woah,” Taylour laughs. Reaching down Taylour presses another button and the lights begin to blink, “look daddy!” he squeals, pointing to the flashing red and white lights.

“It’s so cool!” Auston enthuses. “Look at this.” Grabbing the truck he pulls it backwards a few inches, upon releasing it, it begins to drive forward. The lights and sirens all go off in unison, the toy firefighter in the ladder begins to spin in circles.

“Wow!” his brown eyes bug out of their sockets in pure disbelief. Laughing Auston sits on the floor beside him. The afternoon is going to be chaotic, probably more intense than playing a game. He expects laughter maybe even some tears, but no matter the mayhem it will be the perfect afternoon.

The second the door closed Tia tried to busy herself with anything she could think of. She tidied all of Taylour’s toys, both in the living room and his bedroom. She cleaned her fridge, discarded all the expired sauces and salad dressings she didn’t even realize were past the date. She wiped down her counters, cleaned her sink and the inside of her oven, then vacuumed and mopped her entire kitchen and living room.

Her apartment smelt like Lysol and citrus cleaning products, but no matter how much she cleaned it didn’t help. Because once she was done that’s when it happened. Deciding to take a five minute break everything crashed around her. This had become her new normal.

Sometimes her entire day is good and she can ride the high for part of the next day. But it always ends. The good always gets consumed by the bad. And when it’s bad she feels like she’s running a marathon but her starting line was a mile back and she can never catch up.

‘Tomorrow will be better,’ rings through her mind every day, and every day she believes it until she doesn’t. She tries to fight through it, but some days it becomes too much. Taking a five minute break was the blow she would battle with the rest of the afternoon. It resulted with her in bed wrapped in her duvet, embracing the warmth but also the darkness that accompanied it.

“What do you want for dinner Taylour?” Auston asks after a few hours. Every inch of his floor is covered in toys. Three separate puzzles litter the living room, pieces in disarray, Lego blocks everywhere, dinosaur figures, Paw Patrol characters, nerf guns and a million toy cars. Auston knows it will take forever to clean, that some of the puzzle pieces may be lost and he’ll be finding toys jammed in his couch for weeks, but the smile on Taylour’s face hasn’t left and that makes it worth it.

“McDonalds!” he exclaims, his head popping up from his blocks.

“McDonalds?” Auston’s face scowls slightly.

“I want a cheeseburger happy meal!” He runs over, wide beady eyes staring up at Auston.

“What if I just make you a burger here?”

“A happy meal has fries and a toy daddy!”

“You don’t have enough toys here?” Auston mumbles rhetorically.

"Pleeeease!" Taylour pleads, big brown eyes staring at him.

Fast food isn’t exactly a part of his diet, and if he were to break his diet it would be for In ‘N Out, not McDonalds. But there is no In ‘N Out in Canada, and it’s not what Taylour wants.

An extra hour in the gym or a few extra laps on the ice is all it would really take. Being his first sleepover he wants it to be perfect. And how is he supposed to say no to those eyes, his eyes, on his miniature human, eagerly staring at him?

“Okay.” Auston sighs.

“Yay!” Taylour cheers. Grabbing his wrist, he gives his hand a tug, “we play hockey now?”

“Okay,” Auston laughs. Bending down he picks Taylour up, pulling him to his hip. “You’re just full of energy eh?” Auston chuckles placing an order on his phone.

“I want to play hockey daddy!” he repeats.

“Okay.”

Walking over to the living room Auston sets Taylour down and began to move some of the mess, blocks clatter and plastic scrapes along his wood floors while he makes space.

“Here’s your stick daddy,” Taylour exclaims. Taking it from him they get set up, Auston passing the ball to him. He gives him a few basic pointers, helping to show him how to properly hold the stick. Taylour took some shots on him and Auston let them all go in, exaggerating his attempt to stop them.

“Dinners here,” Auston pulls Taylour into his chest and tickles him. Standing up Auston lets Taylour go and answers the door. Climbing into his seat his eyes are wide, practically drooling while he waits while Auston sets the food up.

“Mmmm it’s good,” Taylour smiles, dipping a fry in ketchup.

“Yeah it is,” Auston brings his Big Mac up to his lips and takes a bite.

“Mhm. Mommy doesn’t let me eat McDonalds,” Taylour explains, taking another bite with ketchup on the edge of his lips.

“She doesn’t?” Auston trails off slightly. Setting the burger down, he wipes the side of his lips with a napkin and glances at Taylour.

“No, she says it’s not healthy, but Uncle Max does.”

Auston takes a minute to process everything. Shaking his head he takes another bite, realizing he got played by a two year old.

Hours have gone by and Tia hasn’t found the energy to move. Repeatedly she told herself how she needs to do something, laundry, buy groceries, clean Taylour’s bathroom. Something.

With a 2 year old, her to do list is never ending. Every time she says ‘I’m going to go do that,’ there is a disconnect, neurons firing off signals in her brain never reach her limbs, so she hasn’t moved.

The picture Auston sent of Taylour buried in toys didn’t do it. The snapchat video of him playing the floor is lava didn’t do it. It wasn’t until Becks FaceTimed with her that she finally got up.

Becks wanted help picking an outfit for her date but when she saw Tia wrapped in blankets barely any lights on she announced she was cancelling her date to spend time with her. Tia couldn’t have that, Becks was so excited having had a crush on her for over two years. Not wanting to bear the weight and responsibility of her cancelling, Tia climbed out of bed. Becks stayed on the call until the shower was on, and said she would be calling back before she left to make sure Tia actually showered and didn’t climb back into bed for the night.

The amount of energy showering took surprised her. The first twenty minutes she didn’t even shower, warm beads of water splashed against her and rolled down her body while she leaned against the wall. The water gradually went cold and every time she adjusted the temperature, turning the heat up. By the time she was ready to shower the hot dial was turned all the way up but the water barely lukewarm.

“Ready for bed bud?” Auston asks noting his eyes are getting heavy. Lying on the floor with his head resting on one of his arms he barely is playing anymore.

“No daddy,” Taylour yawns, shaking his head.

“Okay,” Auston laughs brushing his hair back. “How about we go put your pajama’s on and then we can read a story.”

“Okay,” Taylour mumbles with heavy eyes.

After changing into his new pajama’s and helping him brush his teeth Auston takes him to his room. Opening the door and turning on the light, Taylour gasps taking it in. “Is this where I’m sleeping?”

“Mhm,” Auston nods, “it’s your room. You like it?”

“It’s Paw Patrol,” his voice goes high. Feet skip excitedly on the floor before he releases Auston’s hand and runs in taking everything in. Auston opted for a light grey colour wall, but just like at Tia’s the one behind his bed is a deep navy blue, Taylour’s self-proclaimed favourite colour. The light grey bedding compliments the colour and allowed him to get the very bright Paw Patrol rug with the oversized pictures of the characters. Stopping at the rug, Taylour bends down and points at every character naming them as he goes.

“See what’s on your bed?” Auston asks.

“Marshall!” Taylour squeals picking up the stuffed animal that is resting on the blanket with his monkey, something Tia insisted on him bringing. Climbing into the bed he pulls both stuffed animals close as Auston picks out a book, a Paw Patrol story he knows Taylour will love. He expects him to fall asleep, but the excitement must be too much because when he closes the book shut Taylour is still awake, tucked in with his two stuffed animals.

“Want another story?”

“No,” Taylour says quietly. “I miss mommy?”

“Yeah,” Auston sighs sympathetically. Lying on the pillow to be closer to Taylour all he can think about is those days he spent missing her after Zurich. Tia was his person, always there, until one day she wasn’t, now she is Taylour’s person but he is still familiar with the pain of not having her when she is you're entire world.

He tried to prepare himself for this, knowing that this is the first time he is away from her that he would miss her. Patty said the boys tell him every night he's on the road so he was ready for this but it doesn’t sting any less. Nothing could have prepared him for the impact hearing him say those three words would have. His heart tears a little bit wondering if Taylour ever feels this way about him.

“Mommy’s at work right now, so you’re going to sleep here,” Auston explains, pulling him against his chest. “And when you wake up tomorrow we’ll have breakfast and then you’ll go home and see her.”

“Okay.” His voice is full of enough disappointment to break Auston in two.

“We can call her though, so you can say goodnight. Want to do that?”

“Yeah,” he nods.

Pulling his phone out, Auston clicks on Tia’s name.

Leaving the shower that night her apartment is empty, an unfamiliar emptiness. Normally at this time she would be sitting on the couch, some kid’s movie playing quietly on the TV. Or she would be in Taylour’s room, halfway through a book. Instead he is gone, lights are off, and she feels like her life is in disarray.

Sighing and walking into the kitchen she pours herself a glass of wine. It’s her first shift back and she is beyond nervous, if possible, more than her first shift. That night nobody knew her, tonight everyone does. She thought she was excited to get back and that the jitters would subside, instead with every passing minute the knot in her stomach tightens.

Glancing to the clock, she groans, knowing she needs to get ready. Now.

Quickly she throws the glass of cool liquid down her throat. She hoped it would provide some liquid courage, instead it sits heavy on her empty stomach.

Reaching into her closet she finds her bag, covered in a light layer of dust having sat unused for over a month. She begins throwing everything she needs into it; black heels, red heels, multiple matching sets.

Dread. It’s all she feels.

She wants nothing more than to stay home, but it’s not an option. All of her OSAP is gone and not enough money in her bank account to pay her upcoming expenses she has to get back to work. She needs to start making some money, get her life back on track. Motivation is hard to come by, energy is slowly draining from within her.

Beginning to work on her hair, extensions secured and curled falling loosely around her face, she takes the clip from her hair and drops more down. Trying to focus her mind keeps wandering. To Taylour, to Auston, to her father, the club. When she manages to push one thought out of her mind another one pops up.

What is Taylour doing? Is he asleep? Did he have a good day with Auston? Did he give him any problems? Will word of her return get out? If not today, will it tomorrow? What stories will come once her return is announced online? Would they have stuck together if Paul didn’t do what he did? They both ended up in Toronto but would they have made it through the stress of being parents at 19? Would they have survived his career and her in school? Obviously everything would have been easier having Auston around even if they split up.

But she will never know. All she knows is her dad is the reason they aren’t together. He is the reason Taylour didn’t have a father for two years. Pouring herself another glass her mind continues to spiral.

Just as she is about to take a sip her phone rings with Auston’s name on the screen. Accepting the FaceTime request she sees Auston first.

“He okay?” she asks as soon as it connects.

“Hi,” Auston laughs. “Yes, he’s fine. We played, he tricked me into McDonalds, and we had a bath, read a story. It was a good time, he just wanted to say goodnight.”

“Okay,” she laughs, a sense of relief coming over her.

“Hey Taylour,” she smiles seeing his face. “You having fun?”

“Mhm, we played hockey and with my firetruck.”

“A fire truck? No way!”

“Mhm, I miss you mommy,” his voice is soft and his eyes are heavy.

“I miss you too, but I’m going to see you soon.”

“Okay,” he nods slowly, eyes beginning to droop.

“You just have to go to sleep, and once you wake up daddy will make you breakfast and then you’ll come see me, okay? You can tell me all about your firetruck.”

“Can I bring my firetruck?”

“Yeah, of course you can,” Auston replies.

Seeing a large yawn fall from his lips Tia laughs, “you seem pretty tired.”

“I’m not,” he protests as his eyes flutter closed. Fighting his exhaustion his head nods a few more times, before landing on Auston’s chest.

“Okay. I love you Taylour.”

“Love you mommy,” he mumbles, curling up against Auston.

Turning the phone onto himself Auston smiles, “thanks T.”

“McDonalds, really? Thought you were better than that.”

“You didn’t see his eyes,” they both laugh, “there was no way I was saying no to him.”

The phone call should have helped, talking to talk to her entire world, even that brief amount of time should have brought warmth into her abyss, but hanging up it only reminded her that she is alone. He isn’t here. And there won’t be anyone for her to kiss on the forehead when she gets home.

Tia found herself struggling to finish her hair. Her curling iron sat on her counter and she aimlessly stared into the mirror as time continued to tick by. Seconds faded to minutes, every thought that circled her mind before is gone, and all she can think about is one thing.

The one thing she has exhausted so much energy to not think about. But the thought of not seeing Taylour for one night has her torn in two. Going forward it will be more frequent and likely longer stretches of time. What will happen in the summer when Auston normally goes back to Arizona? How long will she be without Taylour then? Three, four nights?

Her mind continues to swirl as her world slowly closes in. She can’t think about being apart from him for more than a day, how did her mom go a lifetime? Did she even think twice? Did she ever try to find Tia? Did she even read the letters her father sent? Or once she walked away was that it?

Using all her strength these past few weeks, she has tried not to think of it.

The folded envelope tucked into her bedside drawer. The envelope containing her mother’s name, her address, probably a phone number. The envelope she left untouched for days on her table as she considered how best to destroy it.

Burning or shredding didn’t seem to have the dramatic effect she wanted. So she buried it under some papers until she found the way to send the perfect message. But tonight, all she can think about is that envelope and what it contains.

Returning to the bathroom she curls more of her hair, turning the volume up louder and louder she tries to drown out her thoughts. The Sheepdogs, The Arkells, Adele, Dr. Dre, Taylor Swift. None of them have the words to make her forget. None of them can stop her mind from telling her to look at it.

Her mind is reeling as she gives in to her thoughts and opens it to see an address. Her mother’s address. Staring at the paper for what feels like ages, her heart rate quickly rises. Short and rapid breaths, she stumbles over to her bed, tripping on her feet a few times. Falling onto her unmade bed her tears overwhelm her, darkness devours her. Time all but freezes while she struggles to breath.

Pain.

It surrounds her.

It consumes her.

Something pulled her out. Maybe it was the chiming of her phone with a text from Becks. Maybe it was the text from Abby. Maybe it was she had cried every tear she had and there was nothing left. Maybe it was that enough time had passed and her body was so numb she could no longer feel pain. Either way she got out of bed, she packed her makeup, grabbed her bag and began her trek to the club.

Sitting in the back row of the bus she blankly stared out the window. Hood pulled up, headphones playing something she couldn’t even hear and sunglasses helping to disguise the redness of her eyes while she made the familiar trip up Dundas Street. Passing by bars and restaurants, people littering the streets whilst laughing and talking. Living their lives without a care in the world, or they were just better at hiding it from the world.

The wind chill bites at her cheeks when she leaves the bus, hugging her jacket a little tighter she hurries across the parking lot towards the side door. With her head buried into the collar of her coat in an attempt to keep the cold out she almost misses the small crowd that developed outside the club. It’s not until an overly loud laugh echoes off the pavement and rings in her ear drum that her head snaps up.

There are a lot of eyes.

It’s a Tuesday, so there really shouldn’t be. But as she pulls her gaze from the slick asphalt she sees a person looking. And another.

Looking at her. Looking at their phone. Looking at her. Looking at their friend.

Maybe they aren’t looking at her. They are in the sense that they noticed someone walking through the parking lot. But maybe they didn’t know who it was, that she was in fact Tia, the woman who had a baby with Auston Matthews. The women men have been trying to see for weeks. It’s very possible they only saw the silhouette of a person.

It doesn’t matter what the reason for their gaze. All she knows is they are looking. Looking at her.

Seeing them standing outside, hearing them laugh, her heat begins to beat rapidly. Her stomach does a backflip, and another. The wine weighs heavily on her empty stomach threatening to burn its way up her throat before landing on the asphalt. Her breathing is shaky at best, her hands balled tightly into a fist inside her pockets. Once through the employee door she leans against the cool metal and takes some uneasy breaths, trying to regain a sliver of her composure.

“Hey Tia,” Sarah says spotting her. Leaning beside her, she holds her hand out and Tia accepts, giving her a tight squeeze.

“Hey,” she chokes out through some sobs.

The music in the club is loud, bass vibrating under her feet some scattered laughter and conversations can be heard. “I don’t think I can do this," Tia admits.

Tilting her head up Sarah pulls her sunglasses off. The dingy hallway light allows her a better view of her puffy cheeks and red eyes. Sighing heavily, Sarah wipes away the tears, leaving her hands to cup her jaw, thumbs gently soothing over her cheeks.

“Yes you can,” she reassures her. “You can do it because I’m here for you.”

“I can’t get up on that stage…I can’t…they know…I-“she stutters, not even sure at what she is trying to say.

“We’ll take it one step at a time. First you come inside and sit down at your station. That’s easy, you can do that right?”

“Yeah.” Tia barely manages a nod. Tugging on her hand Sarah pulls her inside, leading her chair in the corner. Pulling her hood down Sarah plugs in the appliances. Running her hands through her hair she tries to chat with Tia. She asks about Taylour and Auston. She asks about school. About Max and Becks, but Tia doesn’t respond. Barely offering a fake half smile or even a grunt.

Eyes locked on the mirror she watches the other girls backstage. Kaycee applying the finishing touches to her make-up, Trista chatting quietly with a bartender. Megan tightening the straps on her heels. All their eyes locked on Tia, while their voices hushed.

She keeps scanning the room noticing everything and every person, until she spots them. Well not Tamara and Amanda, she isn’t looking at them, but the white powder sitting on the table between them

Sarah keeps chatting away, her voice now completely muffled under a high pitched ringing. Opening the bag, Sarah pulls out her makeup and gets to work starting by applying her primer. Tia doesn’t say anything, she doesn’t move, she can hardly get a full breath of air in. Letting Sarah work on her make-up, not even noticing when James, the manager, tells her she has twenty minutes.

Tia thought it would get better, easier with time. That her nerves would slowly dissipate. Instead they are only getting worse. Every passing second, every sweep of a brush on her face or tilt of the chin by Sarah it only gets worse.

Minutes later her eyes are still locked on Tamara, Amanda and the white powder between them. She watches them cut the lines. She watches them laugh. Amanda snorts an entire line, while Tamara brings some up to her nose in her nail before breathing it in. It’s what Tia needs. She knows it. It has gotten her through hard nights before, and tonight is going to be hell.

The few times Tia has used it, it changed her mood. She felt an overwhelming sense of ease, her worries subsiding for a minute. Her mind stopped and she let go of all the outside noise. It will get her through tonight, and once she is through her first night every other shift will be easier, she just needs to get through tonight.

It’s a slippery slope the one she is on. She’s seen it before with some of her coworkers but never been the one at the top, teetering on the edge.

Fumbling through her desk, she finds the glass vial mixed with the various shades of lipstick. Sarah stops doing her makeup but says nothing, instead watching as Tia twists the cap off. Her hand trembles and she dumps the white powder on her desk, before taking a deep breath.

**

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[puccbunni]

Too Far Gone - Part Nineteen

Series Masterlist

A/N: Sorry this is late, but part twenty shouldn’t be much longer!

Warnings: Minor cursing, feelings of helplessness, mentions of escorting and stripping, very brief somewhat smutty stuff, I think that’s it

Word Count: 7200

“You going to answer that?” Max asks watching her phone chime for the third time.

“It’s just Sarah,” Tia sighs, muting the call, knowing exactly what it’s about. “It’s about a job. A private job on Saturday.”

“Why are you ignoring that? Do you want to pay your next months rent?”

“I have weeks to make up the money,” Tia rolls her eyes, getting sick of the constant nagging of her friends. It’s the same recycled conversation. It doesn’t matter where it starts it always ends here.

“And what exactly is your plan since you still aren’t working?” Max adds, emphasizing the direness of the situation, as if Tia wasn’t aware.

“You could just ask Auston for some money. You know, his dad,” Becks chimes in, nodding to Taylour who is sitting in her lap quietly colouring a picture. “The man worth millions, poised to make over $11 million next season,”

“Its not that simple,” Tia sighs. Following Becks gaze she stares at Taylour, his tongue slightly poking out from the corner of his parted lips. He has the exact look Auston has when he is concentrating on something. When he used to watch his film from previous games Tia would always notice that, it was one of her favourite things about him, something he would do without even knowing.

In the past month she has noticed Auston more and more in Taylour. She doesn’t know if it’s because they are spending more time together so he is picking up these traits and behaviours, or if maybe he was doing it all along but Tia didn’t notice until they were side by side.

Setting down the crayon Taylour reaches out for the red one, just slightly out of his grasp, Tia nudges it forward for him. Smiling at her son she watches him continue with his drawing before turning her attention back to her friends, “what if they are just booking the event for me?”

“You said they requested two girls,” Becks shrugs. “And they are booking through Sarah, how would they even know you’d show up as the second one?”

She’s right. Tia knows it. Sarah explained all this to her when she called her yesterday. Said it was a birthday party for someone and they wanted two strippers. Sarah said he would have no way of knowing who the second person would be, and they wouldn’t even know that they knew each other. But this fear inside eats at her, telling her something is wrong.

Tia asked for time to think it through. Still unsure if she is ready to face the city. At this point she has accepted her return will result in an uptick in stories, a spinning of the rumour mill. She knows she has to get back at some point.

“Mommy look,” Taylour exclaims pointing to the picture. Standing up she glances over Becks shoulder to see three blobs, along with a tree and a large yellow sun. The small one in the center Tia recognizes as Taylour, not just because of the small size but because he always draws himself the exact same in every picture.

“Wow Taylour, is that you?” she asks, pointing to it.

“Mhm,” he nods. “And that’s you mommy,” he explains pointing to the blob with the red shirt and long brown hair, something Tia already assumed.

“Wow Taylour, you really got the scale right,” Max jokes, pointing to her exaggerated long neck.

“Max,” Becks huffs under her breath, trying to disguise her smile.

“Who’s that Taylour?” Becks asks pointing to the last blob on the page. Glancing at it, Tia assumes its Becks, the short dark hair and a blue shirt. The exact colour she is currently wearing.

“That’s daddy,” Taylour explains casually, not recognizing the significance.

“Daddy, right,” Tia says softly, her breath catching in her throat. It’s a simple concept, a child drawing a picture of their friends and family. Tia has countless pictures of Taylour with her, with Max, with Becks, with some combination of the three of them. But this is different, and she knows it.

“Mhm, he’s my friend” Taylour explains with a proud smile, his finger still pointing at the picture. “He’s plays wif me.”

Swallowing back some tears, Tia shakes her head. She knew Taylour was growing an attachment to Auston, she would be naïve to think it wouldn’t happen. Sometimes when Tia is at home with Taylour, he’d tell her a story of something they did or a funny thing Auston did. And when she tells him he is coming to visit, his face will light up.

Hearing Taylour casually mention Auston, especially when they haven’t really had a chance to talk in the past two days due to his back to back games, it confirms the building relationship between them. It hits her in a way she didn't expect.

Things have been somewhat better between them, there is still leaps and bounds they need to go through. And Auston is trying. He has tried to get her to talk, tried to offer her support. A shoulder to cry on, an ear to listen. But at every possible chance Tia rejects his offers. Yes, she lets him see Taylour, he’ll spend hours at her apartment, playing or reading with him. But she doesn’t give him any more.

After her dad’s revelation, she promised to not make the same mistakes as him. To always put Taylour first, no matter the cost. But she is refusing to let him in. Refusing to return to work. Refusing to do anything, and the only one to suffer will be Taylour. The stress of everything, the perpetual fear that she isn’t doing enough, she isn’t enough, it eats at her.

This picture makes her want to do more, makes her want to let him in and be more involved. This picture is a clear indication that Taylour wants him around more, that he enjoys having both of his parents in his life.

Continuing on with her night, Tia, like so many times before, smiled and laughed at their jokes. But for the first time in weeks she didn’t find herself hating every second of it, constantly looking for a way out.

That’s not to say she did try to cancel last minute, not overly enthused about having to be around people. But they both still showed up at 6, just like planned, claiming to have not seen her text. They stayed long after Taylour fell asleep, she had fun for the first time in weeks.

Feeling good the next day she text Sarah that she would do the private gig. She went to class, picked Taylour up from daycare, and even took him for a hot chocolate. Spending some of her dwindling savings to see his large smile complete with a whipped cream mustache.

Auston stopped by that evening. Tia, attempted to give him some time alone, went to her room even though she could sense Auston wanted her to stay and spend time with them. She watched Netflix on her laptop, only the soft glow of a bedside lamp in her room. Her mind began to wander, the darkness slowly pulling her in. She knew she should go out to the living room, join in whatever was making Taylour laugh so loudly. But her brain couldn’t get her feet to work and instead she slunk further into her bed.

By the time Auston left her bed had consumed her. Sucked her in and dragged her thirty feet to the bottom of a well. She desperately tried to climb out, or so she thought. Instead she curled into a ball and lost sight of the light.

Waking up today she could tell she was spiraling even more. If it wasn’t for Taylour climbing in her bed and jumping on her she likely never would have left it. Her duvet engulfed her in warmth, protecting her from that which lies around her. But Taylour needed breakfast, and help with his puzzle.

Then he needed lunch. Then Tia had to try and contain him while he FaceTimed Auston after his morning skate. That in itself was exhausting. Taylour nearing his naptime was fussy, whining and screaming for most of it. Tia put on a brave face for Auston’s sake, but he could tell she was fighting. Fighting to get through. Fighting to not admit she needs help.

But not too long after the call ended Taylour was asleep and her apartment was quiet. Tia brought him into her bed, finally getting the opportunity to sleep again. She had only been awake for a few hours but she felt like she had been deprived of sleep for days. She was exhausted, physically, mentally and emotionally exhausted. It should have come easily to her but she was also to irritable to sleep. Every scenario known to man ran through her head, unable to shut down her brain even for five minutes.

Her evening was just as chaotic. Taylour woke up full of energy, running around the apartment wearing only a diaper, shrieking at every turn. After dinner Taylour began to tire and Tia finally could hear herself think just when Sarah phoned.

She explained Charlie had fallen ill and she wouldn’t be able to go to the event tonight. For a second, Tia was relieved thinking she too wouldn’t have to go. But then Sarah explained the website she advertises on relies heavily on client reviews. Sarah had contacted the client and they weren’t overly pleased with the idea of only one girl when they had booked two. They reluctantly agreed but Sarah was still on the hunt for a second, but being a Saturday night it seemed unlikely.

If Tia didn’t go then Sarah would have to cancel last minute, leading to poor review. If it was anyone else Tia would have backed out. But Sarah is a single mom too, the only difference is Charlie’s father is barely involved. He never pays child support, and rarely spends time with Charlie, sometimes cancelling plans last minute. Refusing to relinquish his parental rights, the last bit of power he holds over Sarah, she is basically alone. Any bad review could result in fewer bookings, only enhancing her struggles. Because of that Tia agreed to go alone even though ever cell in her body wanted to fall into the darkness of her bed.

“Hey,” Becks smiles stepping into Tia’s apartment, wrapping an arm around Tia. “It’s quiet, Taylour sleeping?” she questions.

“Yeah, he went down not too long ago,” Tia explains, letting Becks in. Auston has a game tonight against Buffalo so he was unable to watch Taylour, leading her to ask Becks to step in. Walking into her bathroom, Becks sits on the edge of her tub watching while Tia finishes getting ready.

“You excited?”

“No,” Tia sighs. “Sarah cancelled minutes before I was going to call her to cancel. If I don’t go nobody will, so I have to.”

“I’m sure it will be –“

“What if –“

“Then you leave, then and there, just walk out. Come home and tell me all about it. We can drink, watch a movie, cry, whatever you need. But I don’t think anything will happen, nobody knows it’s you going.”

It doesn’t mean anything to Tia. Just because they aren’t expecting her to show up it doesn’t mean things won’t change once she gets there. It doesn’t mean there won’t be snide comments or off-handed jokes. It doesn’t mean her anxiety hasn’t been building all day.

“I’m not trying to make you go,” Becks says. Walking over to the vanity she stops a few inches from Tia, her eyes soft and full of compassion. Grabbing the bronzer and brush from Tia’s hand, Becks takes over gently sweeping across her cheekbone. “I just don’t want you to overthink it. I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

“Yeah,” Tia sighs heavily. “I mean I need the money,” she says, trying to convince herself. Without Sarah, Tia gets the full fee, $500 plus tips. That covers a portion of her rent for next month or some of Taylour’s daycare. By no means is it enough to cover her rapidly building debt, but it certainly is a start.

“Exactly, and there will be less people than at the club. It won’t be as chaotic. Even if someone tweets something, it won’t lead to fights or a packed bar. Tonight, it’s just the people at the party. We’ll deal with whatever happens, if anything happens, tomorrow.”

“Okay,” she agrees, sighing heavily.

“We need to talk about something else,” Becks suggests. “Get your mind off of it. So tell me something.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know, anything,” Becks laughs, moving on to her blush. “There has to be something going on in your life you haven’t told me.”

“I saw you two days ago,” Tia laughs.

“Mhm, but I know you,” Becks says smirking. “Something is going on in there.”

“I’m thinking of adding Auston to the birth certificate,” Tia says after a deep, contemplating exhale.

Snapping the blush shut, Becks sets everything down. Saying nothing she eyes to Tia, waiting for her to continue. “He is his dad,” Tia adds.

“Mhm, I know. It’s just a pretty big deal.”

“He’s been pretty great since finding out. I mean there have been some obvious hiccups…”

“Sleeping together, him calling you a bad mom, trying to take Taylour. You –“

“Yes. Those hiccups,” Tia agrees, scrunching her nose at the errors they both have made. “It’s just…I know he… with everything that happened with my dad…” Taking a deep breath, Tia takes a minute to compose herself. “My dad is my only family. If something happens to me, he would get Taylour, not Auston. Obviously Auston would fight that, but it would take time. After what my dad did…I wouldn’t want him to raise Taylour.”

“That makes sense, but you could just do a will and list him as the guardian if something ever happens to you,” Becks says knocking on the counter. “You don’t have to list him on the birth certificate for that.”

“No, I know.” Tia explains. “But he is Taylour’s dad. If my dad didn’t do what he did, I wholeheartedly believe he would have been here the entire time. He would have been there while I was pregnant, the birth, 2am feedings. Even if he and I didn’t stay together, he never would have walked away from Taylour.”

Blinking back a few tears for the life she could have had, Tia takes a deep breath. “If he had the chance he would have done it. If things were different, his name would have been on it all along. He has lost so much because of my dad, I think it’s time he stops.”

“No I get it. I mean he is Taylour’s friend,” Becks smirks, remembering his announcement a few days earlier.

Walking through the lobby Tia feels out of place. Her heels click against the large marble floor tiles, she feels small in comparison to the oversized pillars and high ceilings, cheap next to the breathtaking artwork hanging on the walls.

She can feel the eyes burning into her back as she waits for the elevator to open. This condo is right in the heart of downtown Toronto. Minutes to the CN Tower and the lake, surrounded by other high rises and breathtaking views. Maserati’s, Ferrari’s, Mercedes, all of them are no doubt parked in the garage below her. She hasn’t been to this building, but she knows the neighbourhood. Prominent businessmen, accountants, lawyers. Money. You have to have money to live here.

That’s why she opted for her longer coat, one that stops at her knees. She bought it in Zurich, and even then it wasn’t new, having found it at a consignment store. But it had barely been worn, only discarded because it was ‘two seasons old.’

The grey Prada jacket is a relatively relaxed fit, single-breasted, two buttons and a belt, but it’s a classic. Timeless. At this point, with a two year old and busy lifestyle she doesn’t have many opportunities to wear it, but it seemed like the right piece for tonight. Something to make it appear as though she belongs.

The length of jacket also covers her dress that ends a few inches above it, a barely-there blue lace set underneath that. Part of her hair is tucked under the jackets collar, the rest under a large hat that helps to hide her face, makeup creating a dewy glow on her skin, lips inked with bright red. Hands are shoved in her pockets and head down, trying to avoid any glances, to not re-ignite the rumour mill.

Finding the apartment number she knocks, and after a few seconds the door opens, a gorgeous red head standing in front of her. Broad shoulders, thick and defined arms on display through his thin grey shirt. “Carmen?” he asks with a wide grin outlined by his manicured facial hair. Nodding slightly, she breathes out a soft yes as he steps out of the way to let her in.

“Let me grab your coat,” he offers, his voice is husky but eyes are soft.

“Thanks,” she replies, shaking her coat and hat off, handing it to him. Leaving her in a simple black dress, low scoop neckline, and razor thin straps supporting all the fabric. It’s tight, hugging her curves, long legs fully on display.

She sends him a polite smile, but begins to get uneasy. Apart from the apartment, which seems too quiet for what is supposed to be a birthday party, he seems familiar. She doesn’t know where she has seen him from before, only that she knows him. And his casual attire, grey track pants, send of even more warning flags because who wears that to a party?

Glancing into the condo she notices minimal lights are on, most of the light is filtering in from the large floor to ceiling windows. There appears to be a television playing quietly, but no food or drinks sitting on the counter. No shoes kicked to the side, no indication there is a party about to start.

She feels extremely exposed and vulnerable, something she hasn’t experienced since the first few weeks working at the Brass Rail. The dress is too short, neckline too low the swell of her breasts popping out. It’s a feeling she long ago parted with but now can’t shake.

Worry starts to set in; thinking this man somehow concocted the entire night to get her alone. That he knows she is the woman who had a baby with Auston Matthews and is trying to see if he can get her into bed too. But she shakes the feeling off, Sarah was supposed to be here, she only cancelled recently. He had no way of knowing it would only be Tia to show up.

“I have to go,” he says grabbing shoes. “I live a couple floors over, forgot something at home. Tony said he’ll be out in a minute.” Glancing to the overpriced Rolex on his wrist he continues, “everyone else will be here soon.”

Standing at the door she is even more confused than before. Nothing about this night makes sense. Frozen in place, her fight or flight instinct kicks in and she needs to leave. Reaching into her jacket she grabs her phone and unlocks it, a text from Becks, almost as if she predicted Tia’s panic.

Becks: Everything will be fine, don’t overthink it.

Sighing, Tia shakes her head, knowing she is right. The past month Tia has been overly cautious at every turn, almost to a point of not living her life. At some point she has to try and restore some semblance of normalcy, she just doesn’t know if that day is today. But she will, at the very least, give it a chance.

Walking in, the condo is what she would expect for this area. Big.

Big kitchen with an oversized island, cabinets reaching the peak of the walls, an abundance of storage she could only dream to have. Big dining room table, a big clear bowl in the middle that probably is supposed to be a centerpiece but sits empty. Lavish stone countertop and expensive appliances, everything neatly put away, almost as if it is rarely used. Big television over an even bigger fireplace, the flame low creating a warm glow in the room. Big grey ‘L’ shaped leather couch centered to the TV with only two pillows.

The entire place screams bachelor pad, even an unopened beer sitting on the side table. Noticing three picture on the fireplace mantle she starts to make her way over to get a closer to look but is halted by the sound of feet padding down the hall. Whipping her head around to the approaching person, her stomach drops.

“What uh…what are you doing here?” she stutters out, her heart beginning to beat faster.

“I live here,” Auston answers teasingly. His eyebrows furrow slightly, as if it was the most ridiculous thing he has been asked.

“And you hired a stripper?” her eyebrow raises, watching as he walks over to the couch. His Armani track pants tucked into his socks, a simple blue Nike sweater and backwards ball cap, his dark curls poking out underneath. She hates track pants, always has. But she hates his even more because these pants are suctioning slightly around his thighs, showcasing his glutes through the fabric. Wanting to look anywhere else she can’t, not until he sits. “You hired me?”

“You need money and won’t take it, so yeah I hired you,” he smirks. Sliding into the couch, he pulls one leg over his other knee, one arm draped over the back.

“How do you know I need money?”

“It doesn’t take a genius to figure that out,” he replies, rolling his eyes. Not bringing up the fact he spent days talking with Becks, who disclosed she needs more than just money.

“I’m not taking your money.”

“You’re right, you’re not taking my money. I am paying you to strip,” he grins, lifting his eyebrows. “So strip.”

The words hang in the air for an uncomfortable amount of time as Tia and Auston stare at each other, brown eyes narrowed at the others. Her jaw dropped at his words, and she tried to respond but she couldn’t think of anything to say. Finally the neurons in her brain reach her lips, her shaky voice managing one word, “Auston.”

“Yes,” he grins, reaching beside him he grabs the beer from the side table, cracking it open. Pulling his lower lip through his teeth he shifts on the couch, eyes full of fire. His eyes rake over her body, drinking her in. A sight, even after everything drives him wild. “I’m waiting,” he smiles at her.

“I can just leave,” she objects.

“Then leave and don’t get paid,” he shrugs, “but I know you need this.” Pulling his phone out of his pocket Tia hears some music start playing over the Bluetooth speaker. Her song. Crazy Bitch by Buckcherry, the song she uses when pole dancing on stage.

“Seriously,” she laughs.

“You get a new song? What is it? I can play that instead,” he asks.

Locked in a stale mate she can’t believe he is saying this. That he hired her to strip. She wishes she just accepted the money last time he offered, seems like the easier option at this point. Slowly he pulls the bottle to his lips and takes a sip, “tick tock Carmen.”

“Fuck,” she mutters, wishing she could smack the smug look from his face. There are over a dozen reasons for her to leave and slam the door in his face, but there are 501 reasons to stay. $500 and one 2 year old that needs a home. Sighing heavily as the music continues, she shakes her head and begins shaking her hips to the tune. Bending her knees she drops down, opening her thighs in a seductive motion.

“Tia, fuck, I was kidding,” he burst out laughing, standing up he pauses the music. Her eyes go wide and heat hits her cheeks, slowly rising to stand straight. “Can’t believe you were gonna strip for me,” he howls, throwing his head back. Walking to the kitchen he grabs some sweats that are neatly folded on the chair she didn’t notice before.

“Go change, get comfortable and we’ll watch a movie or something,” he says. “You need a night off.” Reaching behind her he grabs an envelope and hands it to Tia. Upon opening the envelope she sees it is full of money, significantly more than the $500 he is supposed to pay.

“Auston,” she groans.

“I hired you, now I’m paying you,” he shoves the clothes and money back at her.

“Okay first of all this is way too much. It’s only supposed to be $500.”

“Consider it a tip,” he shrugs. “A $10,000 tip.”

Shaking her head she cries, “you also paid for a service, a service you did not receive,” she tries to shove the envelope back at him.

“You’re not stripping for me Tia.” It’s not that he wouldn’t love for her to strip for him, ever since finding out what she does he has been jealous of every guy she has danced for and every guy she will in the future. Every guy that has felt her soft graze and breathed in her perfume while her chestnut locks fell down her back. He hates every guy that has felt her body graze over their growing erection, her nipples hard and fully on display. He hates knowing every thought that runs through their heads and would love, even if for one minute, to be them.

But, the two of them are barely bound together by thread. Inviting her over under the guise was risky enough, she easily could have slammed the door in his face and not spoken to him for weeks. A part of him almost expected it, but he took a shot hoping it would pay off, the last thing he needs is to destroy the fragment of a relationship they currently have. “I’ll pay you to hang out with me.”

“So you’re making me an escort?” she questions. “Really making those rumours a reality eh?”

“I…I uh, I didn’t,” he stutters. Tia smiles watching the heat rise to his cheeks.

Waiting for his response she quirks an eyebrow, but eventually a smirk peaks through her stern look and she rolls her eyes, “I’m just messing with you.” Auston begins to relax when then she starts to speak again, “why would I stay though? After everything that has happened why shouldn’t I just take the money and leave?”

“You can, and I wouldn’t be mad after what happened. But you shouldn’t because of what happened,” he explains. He can sense her hesitation, trying to process everything, he continues. “We need to try and fix this, I’m not saying be best friends, but Taylour deserves more from us. If this,” he motions between the two of them, “doesn’t change he will grow up sensing the tension between us. He will feel like he has to choose when inviting us to things because he’ll think we can’t be around each other. I don’t want to miss more of his life because he doesn’t think we can be in the same room.”

He wishes he came to this conclusion on his own. But it was Patty who sat down with him and made him open up about everything. Auston told him that he felt with time, his and Tia’s relationship would improve. That she needed space to process everything. Patty wasn’t so sure. He told Auston to consider what would happen if the tension between him and Tia never settled. If future events only further compounded their issues and it never got better, or if it got worse.

Swallowing the brick in her throat, she digests everything he said. He’s right, she knows he is. “You’ll stay because of Taylour.” He also wants to say because she needs it, she needs a night away, a night to forget about everything. Forget about the rumours, forget about work and school, forget about all the bad and try and have a good time. But he knows he can’t say those things, so instead he falls silent, waiting her next move.

Heading down his hall she has no idea where she is going. Hoping for a bedroom or bathroom at the very least she opens the last door and immediately knows it’s his room.

A large oversized king bed in the center, simple white duvet with a few pillows, along with his body pillow. Something Tia used to tease him for, to which he would always reply, ‘if you stayed over I wouldn’t have to cuddle a pillow all night.’

There is no colour. No throw blankets, no decorative pillows, even the canvas photo above the bed is black and white. The only colour, besides his navy blue lamp shades, is from the framed photos. One of his family on his dresser, the other on his bedside table, a picture of him with Taylour.

For the first time, she feels as if she is intruding by being there. The doorway to his room. A space she once spent countless hours in, an intimate, personal space she feels she doesn’t belong.

Gently tugging the door closed, she opens another, a second bedroom, this one is much smaller than the other. No walk in closet or ensuite, just a small bed along with some hockey memorabilia on a three drawer dresser. The walls are plain, apart from simple grey curtains, nothing occupies the space.

Pulling her phone out she throws the clothes on the bed. Knowing there is no way he concocted this on his own, she clicks on the name of the she knows helped.

“I can’t believe you did this,” Tia hisses into the microphone.

“Babe, come one,” Becks laughs at the other end. “At least you don’t have to worry about rumours on twitter.”

“Okay,” she huffs, still not convinced. “I just can’t believe you did this, that you thought it would be a good idea.”

“You have been stressed –“

“And a night with my ex…the father…a night with Auston will help?” she barely manages to get the words out.

“You just need to relax.”

“I don’t need a night with him. If anything I could have used a spa day, why couldn’t he just get me one of those.”

“Because you’re stubborn and wouldn’t accept it.”

Rolling her eyes she groans into the mouthpiece, “how’s Taylour.”

“Asleep, just like he was when you left. Tia come on, just stay for an hour, you have a lot to talk about.”

“What if it’s weird or uncomfortable?”

“Then you are probably talking about the things you have been avoiding, because they aren’t easy things to discuss.”

“Why are you a business major? I swear you should be psychiatrist. Just handing out life advice for free.”

“I’m hanging up,” she laughs. “But stay for a little and talk to him, you both need it.”

Reluctantly Tia hangs up. Spending the next five minutes pacing around the bedroom she considers her options. Staying and enduring what will likely be a tense night full of awkward silences, or she can leave. Go home, maybe have a bath before crawling into bed. Things with Auston might get a little worse, but if she stays will it get better?

Deciding to at the very least give it a chance. Not for Auston, not for Becks, not even for herself, but for Taylour, she changes into his clothes. They easily engulf her small frame, rolling the waist a few times, she presses the sleeves up past her elbows but it’s no use, they hang off her.

Next she needs a bathroom to remove the makeup she spent so much time on. Opening the third door she finds a bathroom and gets to work, removing the trace of her planned evening. Pulling her hair into a messy bun, she steps out heading down the hall when the last door catches her eye.

‘It’s probably laundry, or a storage room,’ she tells herself. Yet she grasps the handle and opens the door to be met with nothing. Except for some boxes in the corner there is nothing. And it’s not a small space, easily could hold a queen sized bed and dresser. Yet there is nothing, completely empty. Stark white walls, thin white blinds hung in the window to keep the beating sun at bay, a simple square light fixture hanging from the ceiling.

“Took you long enough,” he grins from the kitchen as she walks back into the living room, “going through my medicine cabinet or something?”

“No, I’m not you,” she replies not fully paying attention to him. She can hear him fiddling in the kitchen and starts to look around, really look around. Walking to the large floor to ceiling windows she stares out at the Toronto skyline. At this time of night the moon and stars are reflecting off Lake Ontario, on the other side there are countless high rise buildings including the CN Tower. “You have a nice place here.”

“Yeah it’s alright,” he dismisses. “I ordered some food.”

Not letting her object he sets two plates on the table. It’s nothing fancy; a salad, chicken and some vegetables. It’s simple, but he knows she needs this, a good meal. They both sit down and descend into a conversation that’s mostly filled with heavy silence and cutlery on the glass plates.

“Where does your family stay when they visit? I noticed you only had one, somewhat small bed,” she finally breaks the building tension

“You did snoop,” he teases. “The complex has some rental units for visitors. When they all come down I book one or a hotel. Sometimes just Alex comes and she stays in that room. Should get some stuff to fill that third room though, I just never really needed the space for anything.”

Remembering the other night with Taylour, the picture she takes a deep contemplating breath before asking something that will tear her apart, “what about a bedroom for Taylour?”

“I uh-“ he wipes the sides of his mouth with his napkin blinking a few times. “I didn’t consider it, because I didn’t think he’d be here, at least not for a while.” His response is almost a whisper, tears building behind his eyes.

“I don’t know what your schedule is like, or if it’s feasible for him to stay over, but at the very least you could pick him up after practice and bring him here for a few hours. Might be good for you guys to have some time alone.”

“Seriously?” He asks setting his fork down.

“Yeah, I don’t see why not.”

“I just thought with everything going on –“

“Once I realized who you are to this city and the fan base, I knew Taylour’s life wouldn’t be 100% private. That he’d end up on your Instagram at some point, he’d be seen at a game or when he’s in school he’d tell all his friends that Auston Matthews is his dad.” Auston smiles slightly at that but allows her to continue. “You live a somewhat public life, so some aspects of his will be too. I mean, it would be nice if you didn’t take him on walks down Front Street or to the Eaton Centre until this stuff settles a bit, but I don’t see why you can’t have him for an afternoon or maybe a sleepover.”

Standing up he immediately wraps his arms around her shoulders holding her against his chest. “Oh,” she chuckles slightly against him. Standing up to fully welcome his embrace her hands grab the back of his shirt as he breathes in her fruity shampoo. “Thanks Tia,” he says softly. All other words are lost on him so he just tightens his grip, her ear listening to the steady beating of his heart.

A smile that likely will never fade is pressed on his face, eyes glossed with tears he whispers, “let’s go watch whatever stupid movie you’re going to make me endure.”

Grabbing her hand he pulls her into the living room. He settles into the middle of the couch, her at the end. It starts off slightly awkward, Tia unsure of the situation. She wants to stretch out and get comfortable, but she can’t get her mind to turn off. Constant thoughts of ‘where should I put my arm?” Or “should I lie down?” running through her head leaves her curled up in a ball not wanting to invade his space.

Taking the remote she begins to type the title in the search bar, upon seeing the first letter Auston struggles not to groan. Legally blonde, her guilty pleasure movie. She once told him it was her pick me up movie, but he found that regardless of her mood she could sit down and watch it, and the next two.

Auston hates this movie. She made him watch it three times while they were dating, three times in about six months. Of course he put up with it then because she was his girlfriend.

The first time it was so early on he didn’t want to object. He spent most of that time kissing her anyways so he didn’t really watch it. His hand was on her waist or tangled in her hair, hers running through his hair as she moaned into his mouth. She’d pull away, mumbling something about missing the movie, but never made any attempt to stop.

The second time was the night before he left for Helsinki, she was upset he was leaving for a few weeks and she couldn’t join him. And thus he endured it again, this time they actually watched. She was curled up under him, his head on her chest while her hands gently ran through his hair.

The third time was a night in which Paul was working overnight. Tia put it on and he objected, having actually watched it less than a month before. But within ten minutes her shirt was off, followed by every other article of clothing. He spent most of the movie with his head buried between her legs or watching her breasts bounce as she rode him. The movie played quietly in the background, but he barely paid attention, focused solely on the sounds rolling off her lips.

So really he only watched it once in its entirety. If he had his way that would have been the only time he watched it. Under different circumstances he would have fought her on it the second he saw her select the letter ‘L’. Knowing that tonight is about her and not him, he didn’t object, he didn’t groan or grumble under his breath, instead he settled in, pretending to enjoy it.

“Who was it that let me in?” she asks a few minutes in, still curled awkwardly in the corner.

“I knew if I opened you wouldn’t let me explain before you left, so I asked Fred. We play together and are really good friends,” he explains. Turning back to the TV she focusses her attention on the movie. At some point her legs sprawl out, her feet landing on his thighs

“Auston,” she calls out part way through the movie. Just as his eyes find her she begins to speak, “thank you for tonight but I’m not taking your money.”

“Tia,” he groans, pausing the movie he sits up and she pulls her feet back. “Yes you are.”

“But it’s too much, way too much.”

“But you need it.”

“I don’t need $10,000. Nobody needs $10,000.”

“Ti-“ he tries to object. At this point it would barely cover her credit card bill, only leaving a little left over. It would be gone before she even started paying next month’s bills. For her to say she doesn’t need $10,000 it’s a lie, she needs it.

“But I will compromise,” she cuts him off. “I will take 4. It can cover my rent and Taylour’s daycare for the month. But this isn’t a thing, you’re not giving me money every month. It’s a one-time thing, I’ll be back at work soon and I won’t need more.”

Pondering her offer he can’t help but shake his head, Tia never the one to make things easy. “Five thousand, that way you have a buffer, groceries, your phone bill, whatever else you need.”

“A thousand dollar buffer seems extreme. All my major expenses are covered.” Glancing to Auston, he has a smirk but his jaw is firm. Getting the impression he won’t budge she sighs and rolls her eyes, mumbling fine. The smile that crosses his face in unmistakable, and Tia just shakes her head.

“So $5000, but there is a condition.”

“What?” she quickly sits up. “There are no conditions, you wanted to give me 10, I agreed to 4 we settled on 5. There is no conditions, no further compromise. That’s it.”

“God.” He groans excessively loud, “I forgot how impossible you can be.” Shifting he pulls his wallet out of his back pocket. Fumbling through, he pulls out a business card and hands it to Tia. Reading the back of the white card, etched in navy print, ‘Affinity in life.’

Her forehead creases slightly, but when she flips it over she audibly scoffs, louder than Auston expected. “Seriously?” she asks, her tone getting louder, more intense with every word.

Heidi Madger, M.D, Psychiatrist, displayed on the other side.

“Tia, there is nothing wrong with needing help.”

“I know that. I just don’t need it.”

“Okay, but Heidi is great. Highly recommended both on yelp, but also from some people I know who have seen her.”

“I don’t need a psychiatrist.” Her tone is getting bitter, patience wearing thin. “I’ll be fine, just have to tough it out a bit.”

“So by asking for help you aren’t tough?” Auston questions. “True toughness is acknowledging your own limitations.”

Sensing her anger rising, Auston quickly works to defuse the situation. “Look, I can’t make you go. But I called, you have an appointment every Friday at 2 for the next 10 weeks. They are all paid for, so go to them all, go to none, it’s your choice. But I think you should consider it…given everything.”

“I’m not going,” she emphasizes.

“Okay, but you’re keeping the card.”

Struggling to not roll his eyes at her stubbornness he grabs the remote and presses play not giving her the opportunity to fight him anymore. He hopes she takes advantage of the opportunity. That she will recognize she needs help. He wishes there was more he could do. More she would let him do.

Just this act alone made her irritable. Staring at the TV he can feel her glaring at him. There is so much she is fighting to not say. Fighting to bite her tongue, because nothing good will come of it.

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