𝖒𝖎𝖘𝖘 𝖆𝖒𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖈𝖆𝖓

♡Welcome to hell, baby♡

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Just want to gather everybody together, I have two more fics to drop and then I’m officially leaving this account. This does have something to do with the Miku situation and things involving me in the past. I really do like writing for you guys but I can’t take the pressure of constantly being disappointed (not by you guys) and dreading the idea. I will continue being on my other account @satan1999 but I’ll leave the work and this account up. It just won’t be up to date like it usually is.

[sacrfcialambbb]

𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭 | 𝟐𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐬 𝐱 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐚𝐥

rating: M for Mature

warnings: strangers to lovers, beach resort, lost memories

A/N: This is the last work I'm posting. I'm not accepting anymore requests or ideas as this account is closed. Please do not sent any messages asking, it will not be answered. Enjoy :(

The resort always looked prettier when the sun was disappearing. The water reflected shades of orange and pink while the pool lights slowly flickered to life. Children ran across the concrete with dripping popsicles in their hands and parents called after them from lounge chairs that had been occupied since breakfast.

Ryan sat on the edge of the pool with his feet underwater, lazily kicking at the surface. He wasn't swimming. He was waiting.

A familiar laugh echoed from behind him.

"You've been staring at the water for twenty minutes."

Ryan glanced over his shoulder. Blonde hair messy from chlorine, oversized white tee hanging over black swim shorts, sunglasses sitting crooked on his head. Hollis looked like he belonged in every photograph tourists wished they could take.

"I wasn't staring."

"You were."

"I was thinking."

"Worse."

Hollis dropped onto the chair beside him and stole his unopened soda without asking. Ryan watched him crack it open.

"You always take my drinks."

"You always let me."

Ryan rolled his eyes but couldn't hide the smile.

They had spent four days at the resort after meeting in the lobby over a broken vending machine. It felt impossible that a stranger could become familiar so quickly. Breakfast together. Swimming until their fingers wrinkled. Arcade competitions. Long walks through hallways lined with yellow lights that always smelled like sunscreen.

Nobody asked what would happen after vacation ended. Maybe because neither of them wanted an answer.

That night music drifted from the hotel entertainment stage. Some cheesy cover band played old love songs while couples danced barefoot on the sand. Ryan and Hollis stayed away from everyone else, walking until the lights disappeared behind them, shoes dangling from their hands.

The waves rolled over their ankles, cold enough to make Hollis hiss.

"You think we'll remember this?"

Ryan looked over. "What?"

"This exact moment. The water. The music. The fact we're both sunburnt."

Ryan laughed softly. "I probably will."

Hollis stopped walking. "I forget stuff."

Ryan frowned. "You?"

"Faces. Conversations. Days blur together."

The wind pushed blonde strands across his eyes. "So I try collecting little things instead."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a stack of tiny souvenirs. A room key sleeve. A sugar packet from breakfast. A faded arcade ticket.

Ryan stared. "You keep trash?"

"They're memories."

"They're literally trash."

"They're sentimental trash."

Ryan couldn't stop smiling. He reached into his own pocket and found a tiny blue shell he had picked up earlier. Without saying anything, he placed it into Hollis’ hand.

"There."

"So when I forget?"

"You'll have proof I existed."

Hollis looked down at the shell for a long time, then quietly closed his fingers around it.

The final afternoon arrived too quickly. Suitcases lined the lobby. Families hugged. Airport shuttles pulled up every few minutes. Ryan hated how normal everyone looked, like leaving was easy.

Hollis sat cross-legged on the carpet scrolling through old pictures they'd taken over the week. Half of them were blurry. Most had someone laughing too hard to stay still.

"This one's awful."

Ryan leaned over. It was Hollis accidentally blinking while Ryan pointed dramatically at a seagull stealing fries.

"It's perfect."

"I look possessed."

"You always kind of do."

Hollis bumped his shoulder.

The automatic doors slid open. A driver stepped inside.

"Mr. Demma?"

Ryan looked up. His ride.

Neither of them moved.

Neither of them knew what people were supposed to say after knowing someone for only a few days and somehow feeling like years.

Ryan picked up his bag. "So..."

"So."

Hollis reached into his pocket. The tiny blue shell rested in his palm before he placed it back into Ryan’s hand.

"I don't need it anymore."

"Why?"

"I think I'll remember."

Ryan looked at him for a second, then pulled out his phone. "No dramatic goodbye speech?"

"No."

"You gonna cry later?"

"Definitely."

Hollis laughed softly.

They exchanged numbers in silence. No promises. No plans. Just names saved into each other’s phones and one blurry photo taken too quickly outside the hotel entrance.

Ryan climbed into the shuttle. As it pulled away, he looked through the window. Hollis stood exactly where he'd left him, oversized shirt moving with the wind, one hand raised in a lazy wave until the resort disappeared behind rows of palm trees.

Months later, Ryan would forget the room number. He would forget the songs the band played. He would forget what he ate every morning. But every summer, when the evening sky turned pink and gold, he would reach into a drawer and find a faded arcade ticket that definitely wasn't his.

And somewhere across the country, Hollis would still have an empty soda tab and a receipt for two melted ice creams.

Proof that some people only stay for a week, and still manage to leave enough sunlight behind to last a lifetime.

Ryan didn’t think about Hollis every day. That’s what he told himself at first. It was easier that way, letting the memory sit somewhere soft in the back of his mind like something half-real, something that only existed because the sun had been too bright and the days too slow.

But it kept coming back in fragments. A sound of water hitting tile. The sting of chlorine in his eyes. Someone laughing too close to his shoulder. Little things that didn’t belong anywhere else.

Weeks passed and the resort started to feel like a dream he couldn’t fully explain to anyone without sounding like he made it up. Still, he kept the shell. It lived in the bottom drawer of his desk, tucked under receipts and old chargers like it was hiding from adulthood. Sometimes he would pick it up without thinking, turn it over between his fingers, then put it back like he had touched something fragile enough to disappear if held too long.

Across the country, Hollis didn’t do much better. He told himself he collected things, but really he collected echoes. The arcade ticket stayed in his wallet until it was so soft it barely held shape. The soda tab got bent, then flattened, then bent again like he couldn’t decide what form memory was supposed to take. He didn’t forget Ryan. Not really. It just came in waves.

Sometimes while brushing his teeth. Sometimes in grocery store aisles where the lighting was too white and too harsh. Sometimes in the middle of conversations that had nothing to do with pools or sunsets or the way someone’s voice sounds when they’re trying not to care too much. He would stop for half a second, then keep going like nothing happened.

It was almost a year later when Ryan saw his name again. Not spoken. Written. A message request sitting at the bottom of his phone like it had been waiting there longer than it should’ve been allowed to. Hollis. No text, just the name.

Ryan stared at it for a long time, long enough for the screen to dim twice, then opened it.

A second later, a message came through. *I found another arcade ticket. it’s not ours but it made me think of you.*

Ryan exhaled through his nose, something between a laugh and disbelief. He typed back without thinking too hard. *you still steal things that aren’t yours?*

Three dots appeared immediately. *only sentimental trash.*

Ryan leaned back in his chair. It felt ridiculous how fast everything came back, not like it had ever left. They started talking again like no time had passed, which made no sense considering how much time absolutely had.

Messages at first, then late-night calls where neither of them said much at the beginning, just small updates about lives that had moved forward without asking permission. Hollis talked about places he had been since. Ryan talked about work he pretended mattered more than it did.

But eventually the conversations always bent back to that week, to that water, to the version of themselves that felt lighter, like nothing had weight yet.

One night, months into talking again, Hollis said it plainly. “I think I kept waiting for it to feel smaller.”

Ryan frowned. “What?”

“That week. I thought if I waited long enough it would stop feeling like something.”

“And?”

“It didn’t.”

Ryan didn’t answer right away. Outside his window, the world looked ordinary. Cars passing. Streetlights buzzing softly like they were tired.

“I didn’t think it was supposed to stay,” Ryan said finally.

Hollis went quiet for a second, then softer, “Neither did I.”

They didn’t talk about meeting again until it almost happened by accident. A work trip. A layover. A city neither of them had been in before, neutral enough to feel safe.

Ryan arrived first. He stood outside the airport with his bag at his feet, watching people move like they all had somewhere urgent to be. He checked his phone once, then again.

Then he heard his name.

Not loud. Just certain.

When he turned, Hollis was already walking toward him like he had always known the direction. Same messy hair. Same oversized shirt. Different setting. Same feeling.

For a second neither of them spoke. It wasn’t awkward, just heavy in a way that made words feel unnecessary.

Then Hollis shrugged slightly. “I was gonna act normal but I forgot how.”

Ryan let out a short laugh. “Yeah, same.”

They stood there a moment longer than normal people would, then Ryan picked up his bag again. “So what now?”

Hollis looked at him like the answer was obvious. “I don’t know,” he said, then after a pause, “we walk?”

So they did. No destination that mattered, just sidewalks and crosswalks and the strange comfort of being next to someone who already knew the parts of you that didn’t make sense.

At one point they passed a small arcade tucked between two buildings. The lights flickered inside, cheap music spilling out onto the street. Hollis slowed down.

Ryan noticed. “You’re not going in.”

Hollis glanced at him. “Why not?”

“You’ll start collecting more trash.”

Hollis smiled faintly. “That’s the point.”

Ryan hesitated, then pushed the door open first.

The sound hit them immediately. Bright. Loud. Familiar in a way that felt almost cruel. They didn’t say much inside, just wandered, played a game neither of them were good at, and lost a few tickets they didn’t need.

When they left, Hollis had another small receipt folded carefully in his pocket. Ryan didn’t ask. He already understood.

Some things weren’t meant to be carried because they were useful. They were carried because they meant you were there. Together. Even if only for a moment that kept refusing to stay small.

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𝐎𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐔𝐩 | 𝟐𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐬 𝐱 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐚𝐥

rating: E for Everyone

warnings: romantic interactions, strangers to love interests, coffee shop, barista!Ryan

The shop sat quiet, filled with the low hum of soft jazz and the faint whispers of customers scattered around the room. Ryan stood behind the counter, wiping down the surfaces and cleaning the machinery. His hands were stained with coffee grounds, sweat dripped down his forehead, and his stomach growled, reminding him that he'd skipped another meal. An unfamiliar customer strolled inside and paused in front of the counter, taking a long moment to study the menu. His expression carried a quiet sense of peace, his thumb resting beneath his bottom lip as he carefully considered every option.

Ryan barely looked up at first. The sound of the espresso machine steaming milk drowned out the soft chime of the door, leaving him focused on the endless routine of wiping counters and restocking cups. It wasn't until the silence stretched a little too long that he finally lifted his head.

The stranger was still there.

Blond strands framed his face beneath a worn baseball cap, his sleeves rolled up just enough to reveal faded tattoos wrapping around his forearms. There was something oddly familiar about him, though Ryan couldn't place it. He looked like someone who belonged in an old photograph, relaxed and patient while the rest of the world rushed around him.

Ryan tossed the rag over his shoulder and stepped forward.

"What can I get started for you?"

The man blinked as if he'd been pulled out of a daydream before a small smile settled across his face.

"I've actually never been here before."

Ryan leaned against the register.

"Then you're either about to find your new favorite spot or waste eight dollars on disappointment."

A quiet laugh escaped the customer's lips.

"I like those odds."

Ryan reached for the register, finally catching the name scribbled across the man's worn leather wallet as he pulled out his card.

Hollis.

It fit him somehow.

"So, Hollis," Ryan said, glancing back up, "coffee person or the type that orders something with six words and oat milk?"

Hollis slipped the card between his fingers and smiled a little wider.

"I was hoping you'd decide for me."

For the first time that morning, Ryan forgot his stomach was growling.

Ryan stared at him for a second before shaking his head.

"So you're one of those people."

Hollis tilted his head.

"One of what people?"

"The ones that walk into a coffee shop with absolutely no plan."

A soft chuckle slipped from Hollis as he rested his forearms against the counter. His messy blonde hair fell over his eyes, catching the warm glow from the hanging lights above. He brushed them away with the back of his hand, revealing bright eyes that carried the same calm expression from the moment he'd walked inside.

"I usually just drink whatever my friends hand me."

"That's concerning."

"So I've been told."

Ryan grabbed a cup and reached for the espresso machine. His hands moved on instinct, grinding beans and packing the portafilter while stealing the occasional glance at the customer waiting on the other side.

He wasn't dressed like the usual crowd. An oversized gray hoodie hung loosely over his frame, a collection of rings and thin bracelets circling his wrists. He looked comfortable enough to fall asleep in the middle of the café.

The machine hissed as espresso poured into the cup.

"What do you do?" Ryan asked.

Hollis shrugged.

"A little bit of everything."

"That's a fake answer."

"It usually works."

Ryan rolled his eyes and poured the steamed milk into the espresso, finishing it with a simple heart in the foam. He slid the drink across the counter.

"There. Vanilla latte. Safe choice."

Hollis picked it up carefully, staring at the design before taking a sip.

For a moment, he said nothing.

Ryan crossed his arms.

"Well?"

Another sip.

Ryan's eyebrow twitched.

"If you hate it, just say that."

Hollis lowered the cup and smiled, small but genuine.

"I was trying to figure out how to tell you it's probably the best coffee I've ever had."

Ryan opened his mouth to answer, but nothing came out.

His stomach had stopped growling somewhere between the first smile and the second, replaced by something much harder to ignore.

The bell above the door chimed as another customer entered, breaking the silence.

Ryan reached for the next order without taking his eyes off Hollis.

"You'll be back."

Hollis smiled into his cup.

"I was already planning on it."

The afternoon crowd slowly filtered in, filling the shop with the familiar sounds of milk steaming and quiet conversations. Ryan moved from customer to customer with practiced ease, yet every few seconds his eyes drifted toward the corner table.

Hollis hadn't touched his phone once.

Instead, he sat by the window with both hands wrapped around the warm cup, watching the rain begin to patter against the glass. Every now and then he would glance toward the counter, only to find Ryan already looking.

Each time, one of them looked away first.

Ryan hated that it was usually him.

Another order ticket printed from the machine.

"Cappuccino for Emily."

A girl stepped forward to collect her drink, flashing Ryan a bright smile.

"Thanks. You're always so nice."

Ryan returned a polite nod before reaching for another cup.

Across the room, Hollis watched the interaction without thinking much of it until Ryan's eyes met his again.

This time Ryan smiled.

It was small and tired, the kind that barely lifted the corners of his mouth, but it was enough to make Hollis lower his gaze into his coffee.

He couldn't explain why his face suddenly felt warm.

The rush finally died down an hour later.

Ryan stretched his shoulders and let out a quiet sigh before making his way over to the table.

"You've been here a while."

Hollis looked up.

"Am I overstaying my welcome?"

"Nah."

Ryan slid into the chair across from him.

"I just figured the coffee wasn't bad enough to keep you hostage."

A laugh escaped Hollis so suddenly that he nearly spilled his drink.

"You're funnier than you think."

Ryan looked down at the table.

"I've heard the opposite."

Silence settled between them, comfortable enough that neither of them rushed to fill it.

Rain continued tapping against the windows while soft jazz drifted from the speakers overhead.

Hollis absentmindedly reached for the sugar packets stacked in the middle of the table, arranging them into neat little piles.

Ryan watched him for a moment.

"You always do that?"

Hollis froze.

"What?"

"The organizing thing."

A smile tugged at Hollis' lips.

"When I'm nervous."

Ryan picked up one of the packets and nudged it out of line.

"So you're nervous around me?"

Hollis looked at the crooked packet before meeting Ryan's eyes.

"You just ruined my masterpiece."

Ryan laughed quietly.

It wasn't loud or forced. It slipped out naturally, surprising both of them.

For a second, Hollis simply stared.

"You have a nice laugh."

Ryan immediately looked away.

"I literally just laughed."

"I know."

"You analyzed it that fast?"

"I pay attention."

Ryan rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly interested in anything except the blonde sitting across from him.

His fingers reached for the forgotten rag tucked into his apron, but another hand stopped him.

Hollis had caught his wrist without thinking.

The contact lasted barely a second.

Long enough for both of them to notice.

Long enough for Ryan's pulse to jump beneath Hollis' fingertips.

Hollis pulled away first.

"Sorry."

Ryan looked down at the spot where his hand had been.

"It's okay."

Neither of them spoke after that.

Outside, the rain grew heavier, trapping the remaining customers inside.

Inside the little coffee shop, surrounded by soft music and the smell of espresso, the silence somehow felt more intimate than any conversation they could have had.

The silence lingered until Ryan noticed Hollis' cup was nearly empty.

"You finished it."

Hollis looked down at the empty cup resting between his hands and smiled.

"I did."

"So I wasn't lying."

"I never said you were."

Ryan reached over to take the cup, his fingers brushing against Hollis' for the second time that afternoon. Neither of them pulled away immediately. The touch lasted only a second before Ryan cleared his throat and retreated behind the counter, pretending to busy himself with rinsing the mug.

Outside, rain rolled down the windows in steady streams, blurring the passing cars and empty sidewalks. The café had long since emptied, leaving only the quiet hum of the espresso machine and the soft jazz drifting through the speakers. It felt like the world had slowed down just for them.

Hollis wandered back to the counter with his hands tucked inside the pocket of his hoodie.

"I should probably head home."

Ryan nodded.

"Probably."

Neither of them moved.

An awkward smile tugged at Hollis' lips as he glanced toward the door before looking back at Ryan.

"So..."

"So?"

"I kind of need coffee recommendations."

Ryan looked up at the menu hanging above his head.

"You mean those?"

Hollis laughed and shook his head.

"No."

His eyes stayed on Ryan.

"I mean from you."

For the first time all day, Ryan had nothing clever to say. His fingers tapped against the countertop before disappearing into the pocket of his apron. He pulled out a black marker and a spare receipt, quickly scribbling something on the back.

Without meeting Hollis' eyes, he folded it once and slid it across the counter.

Hollis unfolded the paper.

A phone number sat beneath a messy line of handwriting.

“Text me if the coffee cravings get too serious.”

The corners of his mouth lifted almost instantly.

"So this is your customer service?"

Ryan shrugged, trying to hide the growing smile on his face.

"Don't make me regret it."

"I don't think I could."

Hollis pulled his phone from his pocket and held out his hand.

"Give me yours."

Ryan hesitated for only a second before placing his phone in Hollis' palm. Their fingers brushed again, warmer this time.

Hollis typed for a moment before handing it back.

Almost immediately, the phone buzzed.

**Unknown Number**

“Saved myself before I forgot.”

Another vibration followed.

“And I'm definitely coming back tomorrow.”

Ryan looked down at the messages, the smallest smile finding its way onto his face.

"I haven't even replied."

"You don't have to."

Hollis took a few steps toward the door before stopping with his hand resting on the handle. He looked over his shoulder, blonde hair falling into his eyes as another smile appeared.

"See you tomorrow, Ryan."

The bell chimed softly as he stepped out into the rain.

Ryan stayed behind the counter, watching him disappear down the sidewalk until he was nothing more than a gray hoodie moving through the storm.

His phone buzzed one last time.

“One more thing.”

“The coffee was amazing.”

A second message appeared before Ryan could lock his screen.

“But I think the barista is the reason I'll be back.”

Ryan let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he slipped the phone into his pocket.

The shop was just as quiet as it had been that morning, but somehow it didn't feel empty anymore.

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CONLLIS STUFF COMING SATURDAY SINCE I’M FREE NOW

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It feel like everytime I’m tryna get back to ya’ll, my jury duty keeps getting extended! 😭

[sacrfcialambbb]

conllis….. Conllis anything…..Plz

I will add them to my drafts! I won't forget about you, I promise 🩷

[sacrfcialambbb]

hi mama how are youuuu

I just took an edible and waiting for it to hit, My drafts are piling up on my laptop, and I feel great (despite my small grievance) 😁

[sacrfcialambbb]

𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐬 | 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐬

Rating: E for Explicit

Warnings: Pornstar!Hollis, Content Creator!Roman, rimjob, blowjob, sex tape, offering, doggy, condom usage, cowgirl position

TAGLIST 🏷️

@2hornii @badlands-bitchh @qiyokucakes

“So what am I in for?”

Roman glanced around the apartment and its clean environment. He brushed his fingers against the countertop and rubbed them together, not expecting such a clean surface. He had never been to such a clean home. He expected a pile of clothes shoved in a corner or something, but that’s how he lived at home.

Hollis sat on the couch, scrolling through his phone, scanning over his profile and looking at his most prioritized requests from fans.

“I called you here because I have an offer to give,” Hollis spoke, not lifting his head from his screen. “You already know what my job is and what I do, so I’m offering something you can’t refuse.”

Roman cocked an eyebrow and moved closer to listen.

“Well, what is it?”

Hollis put his phone down and looked at Roman, nervous and scared about what he’d have to do.

“I want to collab with you for a video but it’s not your usual content. It involves your body.” Hollis explained.

“A sex tape?” Roman clarified. “What about my reputation and brand? I can’t let that be tarnished because of this.”

“I knew you would say that. Don’t worry about it, I’ll get my editor to arrange something and cover your face. Your tattoos are a bit visible though.”

Roman’s hands dragged down his face as he tried to come up with an answer for this. He thought Hollis had invited him for a simple video collab, but boy, was he wrong. He took a cigarette out of his pocket and brought it to light.

“May I?” he asked.

Hollis nodded and stood to his feet, stripping off his jacket, which had nothing underneath. The sunlight basked his skin and muscles as he moved over to the kitchen and grabbed a glass for whiskey.

The smooth liquid flowed down his throat as he swallowed. Smoke surrounded Roman while he watched the show in front of him.

“So let me get this straight, you want me to fuck you on camera for a couple of bucks?” Roman recalled. He was unsure about the deal but he was curious of what this would do for him.

“Well yes, but it isn’t a couple bucks. It’s thousands of dollars waiting to be spent. I had a couple viewers recommend me to you and I like what I saw.” Hollis answered honestly.

Hollis reached for his phone and scrolled through the payroll showing him all the money he’s made over the course of weeks. Roman couldn’t believe how easy it was.

“Basically all you do is show a little dick and the money comes in, right?”

“You could put it that way.”

“I need some type of visual of what you do.”

Various clips of Hollis working with other creators and touching himself displayed across his computer screen. His pitchy moans echoed through the speakers and his skin pink with lust. His back arched just right and his face pressed against the mattress. The sight of seeing Hollis being taken advantage of made Roman’s skin burn and reach to close the screen.

“Okay, I think I get the picture.” He spoke with embarrassment. “You call the shots, let me know what I need to do.”

A light chuckle came from Hollis, he knew it was coming but didn’t expect it to scare him. Hollis stepped closer to Roman with their noses touching and their lips just inches apart.

“Strip.”

The sudden command frightened Roman but he did what was told and stripped down to his underwear. He kicked his jeans aside and waited for the next instruction. Hollis began setting his phone up and pressed record. His knees touching the ground soon as the red light flashed.

Without hesitation, Hollis reached down into Roman’s boxers and began stroking him off. The sudden tug catching him off guard as he had never done anything like this before. He dabbled in a couple sessions making out with other dudes but he never made it this far, especially sober.

He squeezed his eyes shut and just puffed out his cheeks. Hollis was too busy working that he didn’t notice the anxiety working overtime on Roman. His mouth closed around Roman sending vibrations through his body. His tongue wrapping around the tip like a snake.

The warm wet saliva dripping from his mouth down his chin. His throat open and taking every inch of him. Roman gripped onto the counter for support trying not to fall.

“Oh fuck.” he groaned.

Roman’s body heat spread throughout causing him to take his time breathing. The warm feeling around his cock felt so good that he couldn’t contain it. He used his palm to try and push Hollis back but he wasn’t budging.

The blond dragged his tongue along his shaft before taking him out his mouth with a POP.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?”

No words, just groans and curse words leaving his mouth. Roman allowed himself to get caught up on the feeling forgetting that he was being recorded the entire time.

His tip sprouted like a fountain covering Hollis like a blank canvas. The blond guided Roman to the couch and positioned himself in all fours.

“Do you feel comfortable using a condom?” Hollis cautioned before grabbing one from between the cushions.

“Not till today but I guess.” Roman responded.

He slid the condom onto himself before bending down to Hollis’ level and slicking his hole with his tongue. He teased by poking him with the tip of his tongue. Hollis gripped onto the pillow in front of him and braced himself for what’s next.

For the next few minutes, Roman made love to Hollis’ hole. Licking and sucking what he could before sticking himself inside. Hollis arched his back into the cushions and purred like a cat in heat.

“Shit—“ Hollis moaned. “This definitely isn’t your first time.”

“Shut up.”

Roman removed his tongue from behind and stuck himself inside Hollis earning a groan from himself. His walls closed around Roman welcoming him in like a cozy home.

He pushed Hollis’ head down into the pillows and muffled him into oblivion. The camera catching Roman’s body over the couch covered in pink kisses from lipgloss.

The feeling of their skin rubbing against each other allowed Roman to grow hard inside of Hollis, letting him split him apart.

Hollis couldn’t hold back his orgasm and allowed himself to cum onto the cushions in front of him. Strings of white layering onto his stomach as he removed his hand from his member.

“We aren’t finished, where are you going?” Roman asked, pulling Hollis on top of him and sticking himself inside.

“You won’t give up.”

“Why stop now when we’re just getting started.”

Hollis gripped down onto Roman’s shoulders for support and allowed himself to slide down on him. A small gasp broke from his throat when the tip touched the right spot. He bit down on his bottom lip and began to ride.

Roman slithered his arms around Hollis lower back and held him down on top of him to keep him from moving.

“That’s it…Right there.” Hollis whispered breathlessly.

Heat pooled into his stomach and the warmth of Roman’s arms on his back made him sweat. It dripped down his temple and onto his chest making a puddle.

Roman latched his mouth onto Hollis’ nipples, sucking and licking every bit of his areola. Hardening as his tongue brushed against the surface.

The area growing red and irritated from being pulled.

“Mmm.” he hummed, trying to contain himself into silence but it just didn’t work in his favor.

The tip of Roman’s member began to swell again with lust. He removed his hands from Hollis’ lower back and placed them on his hip to secure him in place. His gentle movements had turned rough. He began pounding into Hollis making choked gasps destroy his throat.

“You’re almost there, just sit still.” Roman promised.

A few more strokes later and he cummed into the condom he had put on prior. Hollis draped his body onto Roman’s and laid there catching his breath.

“See it wasn’t so bad.” Hollis recalled. “You did better than I expected.”

“Yeah yeah, let’s see what the camera sees before you send this off.”

“The editor will be pleased with your work.”

[honeyperched]

VAMP HOLLIS RESURGENCE

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Scheduled Draft coming next week

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a little sneak peek!

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Scheduled Draft coming next week

[sacrfcialambbb]

I know i’m on my break but I miss ya’ll 😔

Smut playlist (I keep updated with each project)

[doit4hollis]

LIGHTS, CAMERA, ACTION 📷

2hollis X reader sextape smutshot

tags: filming, p in v, oral (both receiving,) body oil, vibrator use, creampie, dirty talk

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You stand in the doorway of your shared LA apartment, arms wrapped around Hollis’s waist as he holds you tight. His tour starts tomorrow, and the weight of it presses on both of you like a storm cloud. You can’t go with him… work won’t allow it, and the thought of only seeing him a handful of times over the next few months makes your chest ache. His forehead rests against yours, warm breath mingling.

“I hate this,” he murmurs, voice low and rough. “I need something to take with me. Something real. Something that makes it feel like you’re right there with me.”

You tilt your head, curious. His eyes light up with that mischievous, boyish excitement you love.

“Let’s make a tape. Just us. So when I’m in some cold hotel room, I can watch me make you feel good. And you can watch it when you’re missing me here.”

Your stomach flips. The idea feels risky…vulnerable. You’d never done anything like this before. But the way his hands squeeze your hips, the raw need in his voice… you eventually nod, heart racing.

**

Later on in the day, hollis went out to grab a few necessities. While you’re alone, you prepare. You shower slowly, letting the hot water cascade over your skin. You shave everything smooth, then lotion your body until it glows. You slip into your sexiest lingerie: a sheer black lace babydoll top that barely skims the tops of your thighs, with delicate straps that cross over your chest and back. The matching crotchless panties are daring… intricate lace framing your hips and leaving your pussy completely exposed. A tiny silver chain rests at your throat, dangling down the valley of your breasts.

When Hollis returns, he’s carrying a sleek new camera and tripod. His eyes drag over you the second he steps inside, a hungry smirk tugging at his lips.

“Fuck, baby… you really did this all for me?”

He can’t wait any longer. He sets the camera up quickly, pressing record, angling the tripod toward the bed. He grabs your hand and pulls you into view, his breath catching as he finally sees the full effect of the lingerie.

“Jesus Christ,” he breathes, hands sliding down your sides. “This is gonna be fun.”

He starts slow, peeling the babydoll top up inch by inch, kissing every new strip of skin he reveals. His mouth is hot, tongue tracing patterns that make you shiver. When he tugs the lace down to expose your breasts, he groans deeply, the sound vibrating against you.

“Look at these pretty tits,” he murmurs, voice thick. He flicks his tongue over one nipple, then sucks it into his mouth, swirling and pulling until you’re arching and moaning. He switches sides, lavishing the other with the same filthy attention, teeth grazing just enough to send sparks down your spine. Your hands thread into his hair as you lose yourself in the wet heat of his mouth.

After long minutes of worship, he kisses lower, down your stomach, nipping at your hips. He notices the crotchless panties and chuckles darkly.

“These stay on. I wanna fuck you in them.”

You stop him before he can throw you on the bed, pressing a hand to his chest. “Sit on the edge, Holli.”

He obeys, eyes dark with lust as you reposition the camera to capture him. You drop to your knees between his spread thighs, running your hands down his toned, shirtless chest, nails lightly scraping his skin until you reach his thighs. You tug his pants down, revealing the thick bulge straining against his boxers. A wet spot already darkens the fabric.

“Baby… you’re so hard for me already,” you whisper, palming him firmly. His cock twitches hard under your hand, and he lets out a low moan.

“Fuck yes. Been thinkin’ bout your mouth all day.”

You peel his boxers down, freeing his large cock. It’s heavy, veined, the head flushed and leaking. You wrap your hand around the base and lean in, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses along the shaft, savoring the salty taste of his skin. Your tongue traces the vein underneath before you swirl it around the sensitive head, collecting the precum that’s leaking out.

Hollis groans loudly, head tipping back. “That’s it… good girl. Taste me.”

You take him deeper, lips stretching around his girth as you bob slowly, hollowing your cheeks. The wet, obscene sounds fill the room… your saliva coating him, dripping down to his balls. You stroke what you can’t fit, twisting your hand while sucking hard on the head.

“Shit… feels so fucking good,” he pants, one hand gently guiding your head. “Deeper, baby. Let me feel that throat.”

You relax your jaw and take him further, until he bumps the back of your throat. You gag softly but push through, eyes watering as you swallow around him. Hollis curses, hips twitching.

“Fuck, you’re taking me so well. Look at you choking on my cock for the camera… such a nasty girl f’me.”

You moan around him, the vibration making him throb. You work him faster, sloppy and wet, one hand massaging his balls while the other strokes in rhythm with your mouth. Spit runs down your chin. His praises turn filthier.

“Yeah, just like that—suck it like you mean it. Gonna cum down that pretty throat and you’re gonna swallow every drop, aren’t you?”

You nod eagerly, doubling your efforts. His thighs tense, cock swelling thicker on your tongue. With a deep, guttural moan, he cums hard, pulsing streams down your throat. You swallow greedily, milking him until he’s spent, then pull off with a wet pop, licking your lips seductively. He speaks up. “My turn, baby.”

Hollis hauls you up and throws you onto the bed. He adjusts the camera closer, spreading your legs wide. A broken whimper escapes him at the sight of your glistening pussy framed by the crotchless lace.

“Shit, you’re so fuckin’ wet,” he growls, face diving in.

His tongue drags slowly from your entrance to your clit, savoring your taste. He moans into you like he’s starving. “Tastes so fuckin’ sweet, baby. Gonna miss this so much.”

He licks broad, flat strokes over your clit before sucking it into his mouth, tongue flicking rapidly. Two thick fingers push inside you, curling against your g-spot while he eats you like it’s the last time ever… messy, loud, obscene. The sounds of his slurping and your moans fill the room.

“Right there—oh god, Hollis,” you cry, hips grinding against his face.

He pulls back just enough to talk, lips shiny with your juices. “Thatta girl, grind on my tongue. Let the camera see how desperate you get when I eat this pretty pussy. You gonna cum for me like a good girl?”

He dives back in, fingers pumping faster, sucking your clit hard. Your thighs shake around his head. Pleasure coils tight until it snaps and you cum hard on his tongue, back arching, crying out his name as waves crash through you. He doesn’t stop, licking you through it until you’re trembling and oversensitive.

He rises, cock rock-hard again. He looks down and back up at you with a smirk. “Eating you out always does this to me.”

He reaches over and grabs a bottle of body oil. He climbs over you and pours a generous stream across your breasts, watching it cascade down your stomach, pool in your navel, and drip over your exposed pussy and inner thighs. He continues pouring, slicking your shoulders, arms, hips, and legs until your entire body gleams under the soft lighting. Then he slicks his own chest, abs, and thick cock, coating every inch until both of you are shiny, slippery, and ready.

“Gonna make this tape fucking unforgettable,” he says, voice low and rough with lust.

The camera is positioned perfectly, capturing every glossy inch of your body in the crotchless lingerie. He reaches into your side table and grabs your pink vibrator.

He spreads your legs wide and settles between them in deep missionary. The oil eliminates all friction as he lines up and pushes inside you slowly, inch by thick inch, groaning at the tight, velvety heat.

“Fuck… feel how easy I slide in,” he moans, eyes locked on where your pussy stretches around his glistening shaft. “This oils makin’ everything so goddamn slippery. Look at the camera, baby… show them how deep I’m buried inside you.”

He starts with long, deliberate thrusts, his hips rolling smoothly against yours. Your slick bodies glide together sensually, skin sliding with wet, obscene sounds that fill the room. The oil lets him go impossibly deep, the head of his cock pressing against that sensitive spot inside you with every stroke. He leans down to kiss you messily, tongues tangling as your oily breasts press and slide against his chest.

After several minutes of deep, grinding missionary, he clicks on the vibrator and presses it firmly to your clit while keeping a steady rhythm.

“Oh shit—” you gasp, hips bucking up into him.

“Yeah? Feel that buzz on your pretty clit while I fuck you for the camera?” he growls, voice rough. “This is our movie, baby. Every lonely night on tour I’m gonna watch you fall apart on my cock just like this.”

The added vibration pushes you over the edge. You cum hard around him, walls fluttering and squeezing his thick length as you moan his name loudly. He fucks you through it, then sets the vibrator aside, focusing on deep, powerful strokes until your trembling subsides.

He pulls out, flips you onto your hands and knees, and slams back in from behind in doggy style. The oil makes his hips slap loudly and wetly against your ass with every thrust. He grips your slippery hips tightly, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he pulls you back onto his cock.

“Goddamn, look at that ass bouncing for the camera,” he groans, voice strained with pleasure. “Back arched so pretty, pussy creaming all over me. You feel how deep I am? Can’t wait to watch this back.”

He fucks you harder, the oil allowing him to pound relentlessly without resistance. One hand reaches around to rub your clit in messy circles while the other tangles in your hair, pulling just enough to arch you further. The wet, squelching sounds of your bodies colliding echo obscenely. You push back to meet every thrust, moaning loudly as the pleasure builds again.

“Fuck, Hollis—feels so good,” you whimper, voice breaking.

“That’s my nasty girl. Takin’ this dick so well on camera. Gonna watch this and remember how sloppy and wet you get when I’m balls deep.”

He keeps the intense pace for a long while, switching between deep grinding and fast pounding until your third orgasm crashes over you. Your arms give out and you collapse onto your elbows, ass still high as you shake and cry out.

Next, he pulls you up into reverse cowgirl. You sink down onto his oil-slick cock in one smooth glide, the camera capturing the perfect view of your ass and his thick shaft disappearing inside your glistening pussy. You brace your hands on his thighs and start riding him, bouncing with long, sensual strokes that make your cheeks jiggle.

“Ride it just like that, baby. Show the camera how you fuck me,” he groans, hands gripping your slippery hips to guide you. “Look at you… tits bouncing, pussy swallowing every inch. You’re a fuckin’ pornstar baby.”

You grind and bounce faster, the oil making every movement effortless and filthy. He reaches around to play with your clit, slapping your ass lightly now and then, spreading your cheeks so the lens catches every explicit detail. The position lets you control the depth and angle, drawing out the pleasure until you cum again, clenching hard around him as you moan.

Hollis sits up, pulling you into lotus position, face to face, your legs wrapped tightly around his waist. Your oily breasts slide sensually against his chest with every roll of your hips. He kisses you deeply, tongues exploring as he grinds up into you, hands roaming your slick back and ass.

“Love bein’ this close to you,” he murmurs against your lips. “Feeling every tremble while the camera watches me stretch you open.”

He thrusts up steadily, the oil letting him hit every sensitive spot. You rock against him, lost in the intimate yet explicit connection, until another orgasm washes through you, softer this time, leaving you breathless and clinging to him.

Finally, he lays you back down in missionary, hooking your legs over his shoulders so he can drive even deeper. The position folds you perfectly, letting him pound hard and fast. Your bodies are completely drenched, sliding together with zero resistance.

“I’m so fucking close,” he growls, eyes dark with need. “Gonna fill this pussy up. Want you leaking me when you watch this later. Tell me you want my cum, baby.”

“I want it—cum inside me, Hollis. Please,” you moan, nails dragging down his slippery back.

With a deep, guttural groan, he buries himself to the hilt and cums hard, pulsing thick, hot ropes deep inside you. You clench around him, riding out the final waves together as your bodies stay locked and glistening.

Hollis stays buried inside you for a long moment, kissing you softly and whispering how much he loves you as you both come down. He gently pulls out, turns off the camera, and scoops you into his strong arms.

“Come on, beautiful. Let’s get all this oil off you.”

He carries you to the shower, turning the water on warm. He steps in with you, holding you close against his chest while the water cascades over your bodies. With slow, loving care, he lathers his hands with body wash and massages every inch of your skin… your breasts, stomach, back, thighs, between your legs, and even your feet, washing away all the sticky oil with tender strokes until you’re completely clean and relaxed.

“You were incredible,” he murmurs, kissing your shoulder and neck. “I love you so much. This tape is going to keep us connected while I’m gone.”

He washes your hair next, fingers gently massaging your scalp until you’re melting against him. After washing himself off and rinsing you thoroughly, he dries you with a soft towel, carries you back to bed, and pulls you into his arms under the covers. He holds you close, stroking your back, hair, and arms while murmuring sweet praises until you both drift off peacefully into the last sleep you’ll have together for a while.

You can’t wait to watch that tape.

—————————————————————————

twas a request and i lowkey don’t like this but oh well what can ya do 🤷‍♀️

taglist: @voidatelier @2bun22 @sweet2sin @2lilaclace @222foryou222 @2bluntss @2autumndrunk @obscureleoasian @kingoveverything @swaggotsnoticeswaggots @luvvconceal @romansbbg @girl2bad @mazzydabazzy @missmodelsexx @zorixchi @lalalalei1 @vlnt2kiss @glitterandviolence13 @perfgirlnextdoor @punkarchangel @7thstrunner @whitetiger2crush2 @ibelieveinfairyz @stellalaylas @keeperofcrush @hollisedd @sophi-ii @adorehollis

[sacrfcialambbb]

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 | 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐬 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

rating: M for Mature

warnings: Exchanged phone calls, fwb, wet dreams, light phone sex, romantic tension, cliffhanger

A/N: written on 03/26/26, Published 05/18/26

Roman found himself coming home from work, needing a night of relaxation. Strangely, something had been on his mind lately. In every dream he’s had, you were there. Lately, they had turned sexual. He tried burying it deep in his mind, but it just wouldn’t work.

Roman tossed his keys onto the kitchen counter and let out a long breath, rolling the tension from his shoulders. The apartment was quiet, almost too quiet, leaving him alone with thoughts he had spent weeks trying to outrun. He loosened his tie and poured himself a drink, hoping the burn would distract him long enough to settle whatever storm had been brewing in his head.

It didn’t.

You were still there.

In every passing thought, every moment his mind drifted, it always circled back to you. The way you smiled at him like you knew something he didn’t. The way your voice lingered in his ears long after you’d left the room. Even the smallest things had started to feel dangerous. A brush of your hand. A glance held too long. A laugh that made his chest tighten in a way he hated admitting.

Roman dropped onto the couch and rubbed a hand over his face, frustrated with himself. He wasn’t supposed to think about you like this. He especially wasn’t supposed to crave your attention the way he had been lately.

His phone lit up beside him.

Your name flashed across the screen.

Roman stared at it for a moment, his heartbeat picking up for no reason other than the fact that it was you.

Then he answered.

“Hello?”

Your voice came through soft and tired.

“Did I call too late?”

Roman leaned back, closing his eyes the second he heard you.

“No,” he muttered. “You didn’t.”

And just like that, whatever peace he had been searching for was gone.

Roman stayed quiet for a moment, listening to your breathing on the other end. It was soft, uneven, like you were debating whether you should have called at all.

“You sound tired,” he said, his voice lower now.

“I couldn’t sleep.”

The words should have been simple, but they settled heavily in his chest. Roman glanced at the untouched drink on the table and suddenly didn’t want it anymore. It wasn’t what he needed.

“And calling me helps?” he asked.

A pause.

“Maybe.”

That one word made his jaw tighten. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he stared at the floor. He knew he should keep this conversation short. Tell you to get some sleep. Hang up before his mind wandered somewhere it shouldn’t.

Instead, he asked, “What are you wearing?”

The silence that followed was immediate.

Roman closed his eyes and cursed himself.

“That came out wrong.”

A quiet laugh slipped through the speaker. It was enough to make his lips twitch.

“No,” you said softly. “I think it came out exactly how you meant it.”

His throat went dry.

Roman stood from the couch and began pacing the room, running a hand through his hair. He hated how easy this felt. How natural it was slipping into something dangerous with you.

“Don’t do that,” he muttered.

“Do what?”

“Act like you don’t know what you’re doing to me.”

Your breathing changed. He heard it. Just enough to notice.

“And what am I doing to you, Roman?”

The sound of his name on your lips nearly made him stop walking.

He moved toward the window instead, staring out at the dark city below. Anything to avoid the image of you that had already started forming in his mind. Curled up somewhere in bed. Phone pressed to your ear. Hair messy. Lips parted just enough to make him imagine what they’d feel like.

“You don’t want me to answer that,” he said.

“Maybe I do.”

His hand tightened around the phone.

The tension between you stretched until it felt unbearable. Roman swallowed hard, every rational thought in his head telling him to end the call.

But then your voice softened.

“Roman.”

He exhaled slowly.

“What?”

“I think about you too.”

That did it.

His head dropped back, eyes squeezing shut as those words wrapped around him. Weeks of restraint cracked all at once.

“You can’t say things like that to me,” he whispered.

“Why not?”

“Because if you were here right now,” he said, his voice rougher than before, “I don’t think I’d be able to stop myself.”

The line went quiet.

Not uncomfortable.

Heavy.

Electric.

Then your voice came back, barely above a whisper.

“Who says I’d want you to?”

Roman stood frozen by the window, your words ringing in his ears.

Who says I’d want you to?

His grip on the phone tightened as his pulse climbed. He should have ended the call. He knew that. Every instinct that had kept him disciplined, controlled, and careful was telling him to walk away before this became something neither of you could undo.

Instead, he smiled.

A slow, dangerous smile you couldn’t see.

“You have no idea what you’re starting,” he murmured.

Your voice softened.

“Then tell me.”

Roman exhaled sharply, resting his forehead against the cool glass. Outside, the city moved like nothing had changed, but inside him, everything had.

“It starts with me opening the door for you,” he said quietly. “You pretending this is innocent even though we both know it isn’t.”

You didn’t interrupt.

“It starts with you stepping inside and me trying to keep my distance. Trying to be good. Trying not to look at your lips every time you talk.”

A shaky breath slipped through the speaker.

Roman heard it and his chest tightened.

“And then?” you whispered.

His eyes closed.

“And then you get too close.”

His voice had dropped to something deeper now, more intimate.

“You look up at me like you’re doing right now, waiting for me to make the first move because you know I want to.”

His hand slid into his pocket to keep himself grounded.

“And I would.”

The room around him felt warmer.

“I’d touch your face first,” he admitted. “Not because I’m trying to be gentle, but because I’d need an excuse to touch you at all.”

Your breathing had gone quiet.

Listening.

Feeling every word.

“And then?”

Roman smiled again.

“And then I’d kiss you.”

The words left his mouth slower this time.

“Not rushed. Not careless. The kind of kiss that ruins things. The kind that makes pretending impossible after.”

Your silence told him everything.

The line was still there, still charged, but now neither of you could pretend it wasn’t real.

“Roman,” you whispered.

His name had never sounded like that before.

“Yes?”

“I wish I was there.”

His eyes opened.

So did every dangerous thought he’d been trying to bury.

Roman pulled the phone closer to his ear.

“Don’t say that unless you mean it.”

“I mean it.”

He laughed under his breath, though there was nothing amused about it.

“Then stop calling me this late,” he said softly.

“Why?”

“Because one of these nights,” Roman replied, “I’m going to tell you to come over.”

And judging by the way neither of you spoke after that, you both knew you’d say yes.

The silence stretched between you until it became its own conversation.

Roman could still hear your breathing. Slow. Careful. Like you were holding something back.

“So tell me not to come,” you whispered.

His jaw tightened.

You knew exactly what you were doing now.

Roman pushed himself away from the window and began pacing again, each step heavier than the last. He wanted to tell you no. He wanted to be responsible, to put distance back where it belonged.

But all he could picture was opening that door and seeing you standing there.

“No,” he said quietly.

Your breath caught.

“No?” you repeated.

“No,” Roman answered. “Because that would be a lie.”

The words settled over both of you.

He could almost see your expression. The slight parting of your lips. The way your eyes would soften when you realized he meant every word.

“What would happen if I came over?” you asked.

Roman stopped walking.

His hand pressed against the kitchen counter, grounding himself.

“You’d walk in,” he said slowly, “and I’d spend exactly five seconds pretending I’m in control.”

A small laugh escaped you.

“Only five?”

“That’s generous.”

Your smile was audible now.

Roman’s own lips curved before he could stop them.

“And after that?” you pushed.

He looked down at the floor, shaking his head.

“You really want to hear this?”

“Yes.”

His voice dropped lower.

“I’d stand too close to you.”

Your breathing changed again.

“Close enough that you’d feel it. Every thought I’ve been trying not to have.”

You said nothing.

Roman continued anyway.

“And I’d wait.”

“For what?”

“For you to give me a reason.”

His words were deliberate now, each one chosen carefully.

“A look. A touch. Anything.”

“And if I did?”

Roman let out a slow breath.

“Then I’d stop pretending.”

The quiet that followed felt louder than anything else.

Then your voice returned, softer than before.

“I think you already have.”

Roman smiled to himself.

Maybe you were right.

Because somewhere between answering your call and hearing you say you wished you were there, the line had already been crossed.

Now neither of you was trying to step back.

“Roman?”

“Yes.”

“What are you doing right now?”

He glanced toward the front door.

Thinking.

Waiting.

Wanting.

“Listening for a knock,” he admitted.

And on the other end, you smiled. He could hear it.

Roman stayed still after saying it.

Listening for a knock.

The confession hung between you, vulnerable in a way neither of you had expected tonight. He had meant it as a joke, or at least that was how he tried to frame it in his head, but the truth was written all over his face even though you couldn’t see it.

He wanted you there.

Badly.

On the other end of the line, your silence felt deliberate.

“Roman,” you said softly.

He swallowed.

“What?”

“What if I did?”

His brows pulled together.

“Did what?”

“Showed up.”

His heart thudded hard enough that he felt it in his throat.

Roman turned toward the door without thinking, his eyes fixed on it now like staring at it might somehow summon you.

“You’re not serious.”

“What if I am?”

His laugh came out quieter this time.

“You really enjoy making this harder for me.”

“I think you like it.”

He wanted to deny it.

Instead, he let the silence answer for him.

His fingers drummed against the counter while his mind spun. Every scenario he had imagined with you suddenly felt too real. Too close. If you came over, there would be no more pretending this was harmless. No more hiding behind late night phone calls and loaded conversations.

It would become something else entirely.

And maybe that was what terrified him.

Or maybe it was what he wanted most.

The sound of movement on your end made him straighten.

“Wait,” he said. “What was that?”

“My keys.”

Roman’s stomach dropped.

“You’re joking.”

“I’m not.”

He stared at the door.

“You’re leaving your house right now?”

“I’m thinking about it.”

Roman dragged a hand down his face, half laughing, half unraveling.

“You can’t do this to me.”

“But you haven’t told me not to.”

He opened his mouth.

Nothing came out.

Because he couldn’t.

Not when every part of him was already imagining the sound of your footsteps in the hallway.

Not when his body had betrayed him hours ago.

Not when the thought of your face being the first thing he saw tonight made his chest feel too tight.

“Roman.”

Your voice was barely above a whisper.

“Tell me to stay home.”

He looked at the door one more time.

Then closed his eyes.

“Come here.”

The words left him before he could stop them.

A long silence.

Then a smile in your voice.

“Okay.”

And suddenly the apartment didn’t feel so quiet anymore.

Roman stared at the phone long after the call ended.

The screen had gone dark, but his hand hadn’t moved.

Come here.

He had actually said it.

His apartment suddenly felt too small. Too warm. He adjusted the collar of his shirt and looked around as if seeing the place for the first time. A glass still sat untouched on the counter. His keys were where he’d thrown them. The couch cushions were uneven. None of it mattered, yet he found himself straightening things anyway.

Anything to keep his hands busy.

Anything to avoid thinking about what was about to happen.

His mind kept drifting back to you.

What you might be wearing.

Whether your hair would be down.

Whether you’d look as nervous as he felt.

Roman let out a breath and rubbed the back of his neck. This was reckless. He knew it. The second he opened that door, there would be no taking this back. No more pretending the tension between you was imagined.

It would become real.

His phone buzzed.

A text.

I’m outside.

Roman’s stomach dropped.

For a second, he couldn’t move.

Then came the knock.

Three soft taps against the door.

His entire body tensed.

He walked toward it slowly, each step heavier than the last. His hand reached for the handle, hovering there just long enough for doubt to creep in.

On the other side was everything he had been trying not to want.

And then the handle turned.

[sacrfcialambbb]

Hey everybody! I might take a short break come next week and that first week of June, It’s the anniversary of my grandfather’s passing and I also have jury duty as well. If I have any drafts, I’ll post them. It’s a much needed break and also no this has nothing to do with “Tumblr Elites”, (don’t come in my asks being dumb) I have no beef with them at all! I fw them but anyways I’ll see ya’ll in a bit 🩷

[sacrfcialambbb]

𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐛𝐮𝐦𝐩𝐬 | 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐬 𝐱 𝟐𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 5

rating: M for Mature

warnings: Stalker!roman, Victim!hollis, stalking, one sided, toxic, dark desires, inner thoughts

By the time the afternoon light began to fade, Hollis could feel his body betraying him. His muscles ached from staying tense too long. His thoughts had started moving slower, each one dragging into the next until everything felt blurred at the edges. Roman noticed immediately. Of course he did. He noticed everything.

“You’re fading,” Roman said quietly, watching Hollis with the same unsettling attentiveness he had all day. His voice was calm, almost gentle, but Hollis had learned by now that softness meant nothing when it came from him.

“I’m fine,” Hollis replied too quickly, the words automatic, instinctive. He hated how weak they sounded.

Roman tilted his head, studying him. “No, you’re not.” His eyes moved slowly over Hollis’s face, lingering on the dark circles beneath his eyes, the tension still trapped in his shoulders, the slight tremor in his hands. “You’re exhausted. You’ve been running on adrenaline since I got here.”

Hollis let out a tired laugh that held no humor. “Whose fault is that?” he muttered, dragging a hand over his face.

Roman ignored the edge in his voice and stepped closer. “Sit down.”

Hollis looked at him immediately. “No.”

Roman didn’t react. “Hollis.”

“I said no.”

Roman’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly, but his tone remained level. “And I’m telling you that your legs are shaking. You’re not proving anything by standing there.”

Hollis hated that Roman was right. He hated that his knees felt weaker than they had an hour ago, hated that his own body was beginning to expose him. “Stop acting like you care,” he snapped, anger breaking through the exhaustion. “You don’t get to terrorize me all day and then suddenly pretend to be concerned about whether I’m tired.”

Roman’s expression changed, not offended, not angry, but something quieter. Something almost wounded. “You keep saying I’m pretending,” he said slowly. “I’m not pretending.”

“You are.” Hollis pushed the words out harder now, needing them to land somewhere. “You don’t care about me. You care about controlling me. You care about getting what you want.”

Roman stepped closer, close enough that Hollis had to tilt his head back to maintain eye contact. “If all I wanted was control,” Roman said softly, “this would look very different.”

That sent something cold through Hollis’s chest. His stomach dropped at how calmly it was said. No threat in the tone. Just fact. Just certainty.

“Don’t do that,” Hollis whispered.

Roman frowned slightly. “Do what?”

“Don’t say things like that and act like it’s supposed to comfort me.” Hollis’s breathing quickened again. “Do you hear yourself? Do you understand how terrifying you are?”

Roman was quiet for a moment, his eyes moving across Hollis’s face like he was searching for something. “I’m terrifying because you don’t know what to do with me,” he said at last. “That’s different.”

“No,” Hollis replied immediately. “You’re terrifying because you refuse to hear no.”

Roman’s gaze hardened for the first time that day. Not much, just enough for Hollis to notice. “You think I don’t hear it because I don’t obey it.”

“That’s exactly what that means.”

Roman stepped even closer until Hollis had nowhere left to lean except into the wall. His voice dropped lower. “No means something when it comes from fear. I understand that. I know you’re scared.”

“Then listen to me.” Hollis’s voice cracked. “If you know I’m scared, then listen to me and leave.”

Roman stared at him, his silence stretching too long. When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter than before, but infinitely more dangerous because of it. “If I leave, you’ll spend the rest of your life convincing yourself none of this mattered.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“That’s a lie.”

“It’s not.”

Roman’s hand came up again, fingers resting lightly at Hollis’s jaw, thumb brushing his skin in a gesture that had become too familiar too quickly. Hollis froze under it.

“You’ve been thinking about me longer than you want to admit,” Roman murmured. “Since the first note. Since the first time you realized someone was watching you. You’ve been looking over your shoulder for me ever since.”

“That’s not the same thing.” Hollis’s voice was trembling now. “That’s fear.”

“It’s attention.” Roman’s thumb moved slowly against his cheek. “And attention becomes attachment faster than people realize.”

Hollis’s eyes widened, disbelief and exhaustion mixing into something uglier. “You hear how manipulative that sounds, right?”

Roman didn’t blink. “I hear how true it sounds.”

Something in Hollis finally snapped. It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t dramatic. It was quieter than that. More dangerous. It was the moment his exhaustion turned into anger.

He shoved Roman back. Hard.

It wasn’t enough to send him far, but it created space. Real space. Enough for Hollis to breathe.

“Stop touching me,” Hollis said, louder than before, his voice shaking with something stronger now. “Stop talking like you know me. Stop telling me what I feel. Stop deciding what my life is supposed to look like.” His chest rose sharply as he kept going. “You are not my partner. You are not my protector. You are not someone I asked for. You are a stranger who broke into my apartment and decided I belonged to him. That is not love.”

Roman didn’t move. He just stood there, staring at Hollis like he’d been struck.

For the first time, his calm slipped.

It was subtle, but Hollis saw it. The tightening in his jaw. The slight flare in his nostrils. The way his hands curled at his sides before relaxing again.

“You think I’m a stranger,” Roman said finally, his voice lower now, less soft than before. “After everything I know about you.”

“Yes.” Hollis didn’t hesitate. “Because knowing facts about me does not mean you know me.”

Roman took a slow breath, like he was trying to steady himself. “I know enough.”

“No, you don’t.” Hollis stepped forward this time, fueled by anger he hadn’t realized was still in him. “You know what coffee I drink. You know what time I leave for work. You know what songs I play when I’m alone. That’s not knowing me. That’s surveillance.”

Roman’s eyes darkened. “It’s attention.”

“It’s obsession.”

The word hung there between them.

Roman went completely still.

Hollis saw it land. Saw it hit somewhere Roman didn’t want touched.

“That’s what this is,” Hollis said, quieter now, but more certain than he’d sounded all day. “You’re obsessed. You’ve built this fantasy around me, and now you’re angry that I don’t fit inside it.”

Roman stepped forward again, slower this time, his voice tight with something new. “You think this is a fantasy?”

“Yes.”

Roman stopped directly in front of him, close enough to crowd him again without actually touching him. “Then tell me why you haven’t screamed.”

Hollis froze.

Roman leaned in slightly, eyes locked onto his. “Tell me why you haven’t broken a window. Why you haven’t fought harder. Why you keep talking to me instead of shutting down completely.”

Hollis’s throat tightened. “Because I’m trying to survive this.”

Roman’s expression softened instantly, like that answer meant something else entirely. “Exactly.”

“No.” Hollis shook his head hard. “Don’t do that. Don’t twist that too.”

But Roman had already stepped back into his certainty again. Hollis could see it settling over him like armor.

“You can call it obsession if you want,” Roman said quietly. “It doesn’t change what I feel.” His eyes held Hollis’s, unwavering. “And it doesn’t change the fact that eventually, you’re going to be too tired to keep fighting me.”

Hollis stared at him, exhausted and furious and terrified all at once.

Roman’s voice softened one last time.

“And when that happens,” he said, “I’ll be the only one left holding you up.”

[sacrfcialambbb]

can u write Romllis angst smut 😊

You peeking in my files? 🥴