Not long after the group ratted me out to Holland, we all head out to the bar. The first part of the car ride with Holland is filled with tension. He wasn't too thrilled about what happened between Sidney and I, which I understand I guess.
"You owe me a blow job if I remember correctly." He teases as we pull out of the arena parking lot. "Even though I'm not thrilled about what you did,, I understand, and I'm not mad about it as long as you don't get into any trouble." He explains again, and I nod. I know this, I've been told the same line my entire life.
Don't get into fights, don't have unnecessary arguments, don't do this, and don't do that. It's all I've ever been told. But I can honestly say that I don't purposefully fucking get in trouble for fun or because I don't know how to be chill. I just don't take people's shit, and in this world, that's wrong.
"I know, and I won't," I answer. "If you believe me, then I'll blow you." I taunt, a smirk placed on my face. Maybe I'm wrong because I am holding his well deserved blow job over his head, but I'm doing what needs to be done.
Holland is silent for a few moments, and then nods, "Fine. I believe you, and this blow job better be fast. We're five minutes away from the bar." Easy fucking pease.
Wasting no more time, I lean over the center console, getting into a comfortable position. When I'm ready, I run my hands from his knee up to his thigh, and then over his dick. For a few seconds, I massage him through his sweats, when he's nice and hard, I slip my hand down the front of his pants.
"I love your little foreplay babe, but you're wasting time." He teases, and I laugh. I ignore his words, basically telling me to hurry up. I pull the front of his sweats down, and his dick pops out the moment the waistband is down. "Come on baby." Holland begs, and I give in.
Leaning down to his rock hard cock, I give the head a long, slow lick. Goosebumps cover his body, and he shudders. Not wanting to waste any time, I take him into my mouth. He lets out a groan, and rolls his hips upwards a few times. My head bobs up and down a few times, and Holland takes it upon himself to make me go the pace he wants.
When we stop at a light, Hollands hand wraps around my hair, and he fucks my mouth kind of ruthlessly. When he lets me take a breath, I use my tongue to pleasure his head. When the light turns green, his foot barely taps the gas. As the car begins to roll, his hips also start rolling as well. Holland picks up speed with both rolling his hips, moving my head, and the car.
"Fuck Oaklynn. You have no idea how much I want to fuck you right now." He groans, and I hum around his shaft in agreement. His body starts tensing as he gets close to his release. His groans become slightly strangled, and his hand starts gripping my hair tighter. I hollow out my cheeks, and move my tongue up and down his shaft as best as I can with a mouth full of his dick. "Bottom out baby, one last time." He tells me, so I do.
When my mouth is touching his pelvic bone, I suck hard a few times, and he groans loudly. I cup his balls, and begin massaging them while his body tenses as his release starts filling my throat. As he starts coming down from his orgasm, his breathing starts coming back to normal, and his shaky body starts calming down.
Holland's body goes back to normal, and I sit up. "That was amazing, and we finished just in time." Holland points out as he pulls into a parking space. "When we get home, if we are both capable of forming a complete sentence, we'll continue." He promises. Something tells me that that isn't going to happen, and we're either going to be black out drunk or there's going to be some issues that interfere with that.
Once Holland tucks himself in his sweats, and cuts off the engine. "I'll give the keys back to Ivy while I get our drinks." I tell him, and he hands over the keys. As we get out of the car, we notice that the bar is a lot more packed than it usually is. "Hopefully they got to sit at our usual table." And hopefully this is a drunken night that will end with an orgasm or two.
Holland grabs my hand, leading us to the bar door. He pulls it open, and we are hit by loud music, hot and sweaty air, and a bunch of laughter. "I guess everyone is here tonight." He points out the obvious.
When we step inside, my eyes scan for Ivy. She's always the first person I look for when we go out. Mainly because she's usually the drunkest, but also because she's my girl, and I owe her dances and a lot of shots. The moment my eyes land on her, I squeeze Holland's hand, "I'm going to Ivy. I'll bring you a drink and shots for the table." I inform him, and he nods, dropping his head to kiss me.
Holland releases my hand, and I skip over towards Ivy. The moment her eyes land on me, a wide smile takes over her face- she's tipsy already. "Hey!" She yells, and I wave. She turns to a girl she's been talking to, "This is my best friend Oaklynn. Oaklynn, this is Kat." Kat and I greet each other, and then she excuses herself. A frown takes over Ivy's face, "Dude, you've become famous in the past hour, and people aren't wanting to talk to you."
I sigh.
This isn't how I want the night to go, and I definitely don't want the drama that apparently is promised to come. "Oh well. There's nothing she can do that'll affect me, and I'd like to see her do her worst." I admit with a shrug.
Ivy doesn't answer, so I turn toward the bartender. I rattle off mine and Holland's drinks, along with a round of shots for our group. While I wait for our drinks Ivy and I sing and dance to whatever comes on, and we chat with the people around us. We're in a conversation about the guys with some of the other team mates' girlfriends when the good vibe dies.
A witches laugh sounds from behind me, "Yeah, we're together, together. Like he spends the night almost every night, and every morning we fuck like rabbits."
"You and Holland Maddox are together? I find that hard to believe. He's been avoiding you since freshman year." A girl says, and my ears fully perk up. "How did you finally get him?"
There's a beat of silence, and then, "He told me it was never anything personal, that he just wanted to focus on hockey for his first two years. You know, the basic hockey line. But one night, we were at a party, and I tried again, and he gave in."
"Girl, you better hope that's the truth. If that girl that lives with him hears that, she'll fuck you up. Have you ever searched her up on like anything? She's ruthless, and calls people out. Not to mention, she even punched a man before." Another girl says, and I laugh.
I decide to turn around, "Looks like people do know who I am," I smile, "you'd be correct, I have fought a grown man, I do call people out on their bullshit, and I don't give a fuck what you have to say." I shrug.
Sidney scowls at me, and a nasty grin takes over my face. "I've been dating him for like two months. You haven't noticed that he's never at the house? Or how he's always on his phone?" She asks, and I roll my eyes.
My eyes find the back of Holland's head, and I pray he'll forgive me for what's about to happen. "Clearly you are one delusional bitch," I move my hair away from my neck, showing off the hickeys and bruises she's already seen, "Holland sleeps in my bed every night, wakes up with his dick in my mouth, showers in my bathroom, uses my fucking amazing smelling soaps, and does a whole lot of other things to me in our house and his truck. He comes home straight after practice and classes, his phone sits next to mine when we're together, and not to mention, but I'm going to anyways, he can't fucking stand you. None of the sports people can." I state, and her face pales a little bit.
She's silent for a moment, "If that's true, then how do you explain the picture of him naked in my bed?" She asks, and pulls out her phone. She scrolls through a million, I'm assuming, pictures, and then flips her phone towards me when she finds the one she's looking for. "See, Holland's naked in my bed." She smirks as if she's won whatever the fuck she thinks this is.
I glance at Ivy, who seems to have sobered up since Sidney came over here. "Send it to me then. If you don't, that video of you doing Logan will be up on every platform you can think of, and you will be tagged." Ivy threatens, and I smirk.
Sidney turns her phone back to herself, and taps the screen hard. "There. You have it." She snaps, and then her eyes find mine. "You're nothing but a whore like your mom. You really think anyone would want to fuck you? The only reason Dustin's dad fucked your mom is because you two are easy. That'd be the only way Holland ever fucks you." She smiles as if she hit a nerve, which she did, but she doesn't know that.
When I let out a humorous laugh, her face morphs from victory to confusion. I stare at her for a few seconds, debating on if she's worth it, and after the little devil and angel on my shoulder decide it is definitely worth it, I smile at her. My hands curve into a fist, and without hesitation my shoots up. The moment my fist connects to her nose, she lets out a scream.
That one hit takes her down, and pride takes over my body. "I still got it." I say, smiling over at Ivy whose jaw is laying on the floor.
"Holy shit that was hot. Shots on me!" She yells, and I laugh.
When Ivy turns around to pay for the shots I had ordered, I examine my knuckles. Bloody, a little purple, and two of them swollen. I stare at my hand for a few seconds, and then smile. Call me crazy, but I love the aftermath of a fight, rather I win or lose. The blood, bruises, and swollenness that happens makes me feel relaxed.
"Oaklynn, come here." Holland's voice sounds from behind me, and I suck in a breath. He's angry, like really angry. It's evident in his voice, and the way he's standing when I turn around. "We need to have a talk." He bites out, and I nod.
I tap Ivy's shoulder, "Can I use your phone for a few minutes or can you send me what caused her to get hit?" I ask, not wanting to give away what I need to talk to him about. She gives me a quick nod, and hands me her phone. "Thanks babe, I'll be right back." She waves me off, and I follow Holland outside.
When we're away from people he turns to face me. His face is red and his jaw is ticking. "You promised that you'd work on your violence. You promised that you wouldn't aggravate her. You fucking promsied that unless someone throws the first punch, you were done benign that person. You broke a pinky promise."
You know when your favorite person is lecturing you about something you've done, and you feel like shit, and like you should have been a better person? That's how I feel right now. He's mad at me, he's disappointed in me, he probably thinks that I'll break any promise I make. As much as I love him, I know he doesn't understand why I feel the need to fight, I know he doesn't like violence, and I know that no matter what I tell him it'll bite me in the ass.
"You don't get it! If I felt like there was another option, I would have chosen it. She was talking shit about my mom, she was saying you two have been together for two months. She was being a bitch. I don't know shit about her to argue against her, but I can physically hurt her, so I did. You don't understand that I will die before anyone says anything about my family. She dug her grave talking shit about Levi, and she buried herself when she mentioned my mom." I yell at him.
He doesn't say anything, he looks at me as if he's trying to decode something. His eyes search my face for a long time before he says anything. "Are you fuckign kidding me? This whole thing is because she said she and I are dating?" He questions me, and I huff out a sigh.
There's been a few things I've realized growing up. One, everyone deals with things differently, which makes your 'healthy' was their unhealthy. And two, it doesn't matter if you grew up semi similar, they will still see your ways as wrong. I've never felt the need to explain myself to anyone who doesn't get it, yet here I am, wanting to find the words to explain why I am the way I am. And to a fucking man nonetheless.
"I can't even try to understand why you did that. I don't even want to bother trying right now. Don't think that I don't understand the need to defend your family, because I do, but I don't understand why you have to defend me. You should know that I am yours. You should also know that I've never been the slightest interested in Sidney." Holland confesses, and my eyes lock on his storm blue ones.
I guess now is the perfect time to show the picture. I pull out my phone, tap on Ivy's name, and pull up the picture Sidney showed us. "If you've never been interested in her, then explain what the fuck this is," I show him the picture, "cause to me, this looks that at least some part of you has been interested in her." I snap, and his eyes connect to mine.
His eyes show anger and confusion, but his body language shows nerves. "I have n-" I cut him off, not wanting to hear any type of lie or excuse. Call me a hypocrit, call me a bitch, call me whatever your heart desires. But at the end of the day, I'm not the one pretending to hate someone only to have fucked them before. "If you're not going to hear me out then I don't see what we're doing together. You clearly don't trust me." He snips.
I laugh, all humor gone though, "You're breaking up with me because of the fact I set a pig back in place, and for the fact that there is clearly proof of you being with her?" He nods, which I copy his movement. Another humorous laugh escapes, this time because tears threaten to escape, "I- wo- I don't even know what to say because my Holland wouldn't act like this. So either this is who you really are, you're fucking on something, or you're his evil twin."
I've always known of the three, six, nine rule but I've never thought it was real. But then again, I am the girl who grew up in a home without a relationship to guide me through mine, and around people who have only ever been temporary. I guess this was destined to happen. We may have only been together for six months, but I thought I knew Holland pretty well.
"We'll talk about this later. I'm not- I can't do this right now." He tells me, his eyes holding back their own tears. "I'll see you at the house." I shake my head no, I've already decided that I'm staying with Ivy, and if I can't then I'll stay away from the house while he's there. "What do you mean no?"
How does he think he has the right to question me? Either he's being unbelievable or I'm being dramatic. I think it's safe to go with the latter, but I'm going to blame him. "I mean, I'm not staying in the same house as you. I'll stop by and pick up the things I need, and if I need to stay there, I'll be there when you aren't." I explain myself to him, and immediately mentally slap myself. "Don't even worry about it. It's not your problem, okay?"
Holland looks at me as if I sold all his hockey gear. "What happened to if we break up we'll still be friends, or was that another broken promise? Actually, don't worry about it. I'll see you when I do." He says, and pushes past me, going back into the bar.
The moment he's out of eye sight, I let my breathing turn labored and the tears roll down my cheeks. Even though his words were hurtful, all I want to do is run after him, and tell him that I'm working on me so we can work. And that if he thinks I don't believe him then he's mistaken because I trust him with everything. From my life to wanting alone time.
Not wanting to dampen anyone's mood, I start the two hour walk back to the house, and yes that is the exact because Kane walked it once. While I walk to the house, I pass happy couples, people with kids, and people who seem content being single. The walk gives me things to think about, things I'd never think about while driving. I hear the laughter of friends, the squeals of kids, and gasps from wives whose husbands say something inappropriate. Also on the way to the house, I decide that for tonight I am going to allow myself to feel sad, and in the morning I am going to tell Ivy about what happened and apply for jobs so next year I can move into my own place.
When I get to the house, I turn off my phone, run a bath, and cry. After my body is a prune, I get out, dress in my 'homeless' clothes, crawl into bed, and bury myself in blankets, crying the whole time. At some point, tears stop falling, and I lay in the darkness staring at the digital clock that sits on my nightstand. Hours pass, from eleven at night, to one in the morning, to three, and eventually exhaustion takes over.
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Hey loves! How are you?
NEXT UPDATE: 11/22/23