Tour Bus of Pure Hate and Degradation
hollis × fem!reader brat vs brat A/N: this is NOT enemies-to-lovers, this is enemies-to-enemies-who-hate-fuck. cw: cursing, intense degradation both ways, public humiliation, leaked nudes, visible boners on camera, choking mentions, hate-sex
### THE ANNOUNCEMENT roman drops the official tour graphic. your name sits right under boyliife: “special guest / vibe curator / chaos agent”
the internet explodes: “THE PEOPLE’S PRINCESS IS COMING ON TOUR WITH BOYLIIFE???” hollis reposts with the caption: “great. now i have to deal with this bitch for 3 months.”
you quote tweet instantly: “don’t worry @2hollis i’ll bring noise-canceling headphones so i don’t have to hear your trash mixes ♡”
the war is public before the first bus even rolls.
### PARIS – DAY 1 You step off the bus in micro prada sunglasses and a latex mini skirt that should be illegal. The entire crew screams your name. Fans outside the gate lose their minds.
Hollis walks past you like you’re a lamppost.
you (sunshine voice): “morning, sunshine. love the resting bitch face, really selling the brand.”
hollis (not looking): “go be beloved somewhere else, princess.”
you: “aw, someone’s mad the fans like me more than his last single.”
He finally turns. Eyes pitch black.
hollis: “keep talking shit and see how fast i kick you off this tour.”
You step into his space, voice sugar-sweet poison.
you: “try it, baby. i dare you.”
nate from ten feet away, already eating popcorn: “i’m getting popcorn this is better than the superbowl.”
### FIRST SOLD-OUT SHOW You’re side-stage in the tiniest black lace top known to man, screaming every lyric, stealing the entire crowd like it’s your show.
Hollis keeps glancing over mid-performance. He fucks up his own lyrics twice.
After the show he corners you backstage, still sweaty, veins popping, breathing like he ran a mile.
hollis: “you trying to ruin my set, you little brat?”
you (slow smile): “no baby, i’m trying to remind the crowd who they actually came for.”
He steps closer, voice lethal.
hollis: “keep acting like you run shit and i’ll bend you over the amp right now, sweetheart.”
you (tilt your head): “i’d love to see you try, control freak.”
His hand twitches like he’s two seconds from grabbing your throat. You’re both breathing hard, hating how bad you want it.
nate walks in, sees the standoff, backs out slowly without a word.
### COPENHAGEN – backstage hallway You’re doing a fit check tiktok. Hollis walks past, shoulder-checks you so hard you almost drop your phone.
you: “jesus, watch where you’re going, daddy issues.”
hollis: “watch where you’re standing, attention whore.”
you: “i’d rather die than take directions from someone whose last hook sounds like a dying cat getting fucked by a lawnmower.”
He grabs your phone, holds it above his head.
hollis: “say sorry.”
you: “sorry your dick’s smaller than your career prospects.”
He drops the phone straight into a random crew guy’s coffee.
### BERLIN – hotel breakfast You’re eating cereal with the boys. Hollis sits down across from you like it’s personal.
you: “table’s full, go sit with your personality.”
hollis: “i would, but it’s currently busy being more interesting than you.”
roman (exhausted): “can y’all just try to get along? for two fucking seconds?”
you & hollis in perfect unison: “no.”
### AMSTERDAM – the unforgivable sin You change the final 15 seconds of his set closer to a 2019 soundcloud demo he made when he was 15. absolute garbage. The entire crowd hears it. The internet loses its mind laughing.
Backstage, Hollis is vibrating with rage.
That night, while you’re asleep on the bus, he posts to his 8-million-follower close friends: blurry, grainy nude from 2019 — you barely legal, mirror pic you sent an ex you completely forgot existed. caption: “since she wants to play dirty, here’s a throwback of the people’s princess before she discovered filters ♡”
You wake up to 47,000 new followers and your phone exploding.
You storm to the back lounge at 130 decibels.
you: “you leaked a nude of me when i was seventeen, you disgusting fucking creep?”
hollis (smirking): “just 18, actually. calm down.”
you: “i will end your bloodline.”
You grab his phone, AirDrop the worst photo of him asleep drooling (2023) to every crew member with the caption “small dick energy personified.”
Roman physically separates you before homicide occurs.
### MILAN – group interview Tiny couch. Forced to sit next to each other.
interviewer: “you two have insane chemistry online, what’s it like on tour?”
both of you fake-smiling so hard your cheeks hurt.
you: “he’s… passionate.”
hollis: “she’s… tolerable on good days.”
They ask about the leaked nude drama.
you (sugary): “ancient history. we’ve moved on.”
hollis (under breath, mic catches it): “moved on to riding my last nerve.”
Interview ends. You stand, lean down to his ear, loud enough for the boom mic:
you: “keep pretending you hate me while you’re hard in those sweats, you pathetic little bitch.”
You walk away.
Camera zooms.
Grey sweats. Very, very obviously hard.
nate from across the room zooms in and texts the gc: “bro is bricked up on camera i’m deceased”
Hollis spends the rest of the day with a hoodie tied around his waist like a middle-schooler.
### BARCELONA – rooftop, 4 a.m. You’re smoking with conceal. Hollis storms up.
hollis: “you told the opener i cry after sex?”
you: “i said you cry during sex. there’s a difference.”
He grabs your wrist, drags you away from everyone.
hollis: “i fucking hate you.”
you: “feeling’s mutual, you walking venereal disease.”
He shoves you against the wall.
hollis: “one day i’m gonna fuck that attitude right out of you until you’re begging.”
you: “one day i’m gonna ride your face until you’re crying for air, then i’ll leave you hard and walk away. we’ll see who begs first.”
You’re both breathing like you ran a marathon. He’s inches from kissing you.
roman appears out of thin air: “for the love of god, either fuck or kill each other, but pick one, we’re all exhausted.”
### MADRID – final night, the elevator Last show of tour. Everyone drunk, emotional.
You and Hollis end up in the elevator alone.
Doors close.
Silence for three floors.
you: “i still hate you.”
hollis: “i still want to ruin you.”
you: “same time tomorrow?”
He slams the stop button, grabs your throat, slams you against the wall so hard the metal dents. Kisses you like he’s trying to win the war with his tongue.
You bite his lip hard enough to draw blood.
He groans, grinds against you.
you: “this doesn’t mean i like you.”
hollis: “this doesn’t mean i won’t leak another nude if you piss me off again.”
you: “touché, asshole.”
The elevator starts moving again. You fix each other’s clothes like nothing happened.
