#hollis x reader

[2hollisarmpits]

i love it when he manspreads 😭😭 gives me a place to sit 😩😩

[2bluntss]

practice papers part 5

student!reader x tutor!hollis

go read part 4 first.

a/n: hi does anyone remember me lol sorry for disappearing lol i started this fic in april and now it’s july im such a chud this is so rushed but i hope it satisfies u guys for now the next part will be better and longer but ill start writing again like in september or something lollll also it takes so long colour coding all of the fucking lines so u guys better be grateful anyways thank u for all the love ive been receiving <2 kisses NOT PROOF READ IM LAZY

wc: 2.2k

you make it into school, you quickly check your phone and see 12 messages from your bestfriend. the top one reads, ‘fine i’ll just go to lesson by myself’

you speed walk to your best friends classroom and stand outside the door staring through the glass. she’s on the front row and you desperately try to get her attention by jumping around and waving your arms around. her head finally raises, and she shoots you a confused expression before mouthing the words ‘where the fuck were you?’ you beckon for her to come outside but she shakes her head and continues writing. you tut and roll your eyes. you figure if you’re already late, a few more minutes wouldn’t really affect anyone. you make your way into the bathroom and head into the end stall, pulling your phone out.

- ☏

you: thank u for dropping me, even tho it was abit late 😹

you: i’m not going to lesson yet, i hope you’re not driving so im not distracting you

hollis: you’re not distracting me don’t worry

hollis: i’ve got two hands ;)

hollis: and get to lesson you naughty girl or i won’t be picking u up

you: hollis put ur phone away do u have a fucking death wish

hollis: calm yourself, my eyes r on the road

you: yea but if ur driving 100mph obviously there’s a bigger problem here

hollis: im actually only driving 92 right now

you: fuck off

hollis: u better keep that attitude when i see u

you: pick me up where u usually do

hollis: yes ma’am

hollis: now get to ur lesson & text me during ur break

you: peace

- ☏

you lock your phone & slide it into your blazer pocket. you tidy yourself up, tighten your tie, tuck your shirt in & rolls your skirt up a few times. you leave the stall and head to your lesson.

you push the classroom door open gently. ‘sorry i’m late..’ you mumble. your teacher rolls her eyes and barley looks at you. ‘30 minute detention after school.’

‘what?’

‘i said, that’s a 30 minute detention after school. was i clear that time?’

‘but i’ve never been late to your lesson before, the bus was late.’ you plead.

‘stop feeding me with these lies, i watched you walk past the classroom 20 minutes ago. that’ll be an extra 10 minutes for lying to me. go sit down before you get yourself into more trouble.’

you nod your head and drag your feet to your desk, slumping down into your seat & slamming your backpack down to the floor. you fold your arms and slouch in your chair, not bothering to open your book or grab a pen from your bag because there’s 15 minutes of the lesson left.

your phone buzzes silently in your pocket, 2 times. you slyly lift your phone out of tour pocker and place it in your lap, sliding half of it under your skirt so your teacher doesn’t see. hollis.

- ☏

hollis: i’ll pick u up after school

hollis: tell ur mama you’re not coming home tonight

- ☏

you raise an eyebrow. the teacher starts pacing around the classroom so you quickly slide your phone fully under your skirt, waiting for her to pass. she creeps up behind you & leans over your shoulder. ‘see me after class.’ you roll your eyes and nod, you’re guessing she saw your phone & she’ll just extend your detention even further.

the bell rings, student rush out of the small door & you stay seated. once everyone’s left, you make your way, slowly, to the teachers desk. you fumble with your thumbs & pick the skin off your ring finger while waiting for your teacher to say something.

‘is there anything you’d like to say to me?’

‘i’m sorry.’

‘for?’

‘for being late to your lesson and for lying.’

‘thank you, y/n. you’re a good kid, you know. you just need to try a bit harder.’

you nod.

‘i’ll take the detention off just this once, i feel i was a bit harsh this time around. but please, why did you not want to come into my class?’

‘i came in late and i wanted to talk to my friend first, im sorry.’

she tuts. ‘i understand. i take it that’s your friend?’ she tilts her head forward, signaling for you to look behind you.

‘yeah. that’s her.’

‘i wouldn’t want to keep you any longer, please do not be late to my lesson again or i will have no choice but to give you a detention, which i know you wouldn’t be happy with.’

‘thank you, i wont let it happen again.’ you plaster a fake smile over your face then wipe it clean off your face once you turn around.

you open the door and you’re met with your bestfriend. ‘the fuck was that about?’

‘she gave me a detention, i was late because i came to your class first.’

‘you were only outside my classroom for like 5 mins how was she that angry to give you a detention?’

your eyes widen. ‘i went to the bathroom after, then lost track of time, i was on tiktok the whole time. and also she took the detention off me.’

‘that’s good. what you doing after school? feels like you haven’t come round mine in like ages!’ your bestfriend shoves you playfully.

‘oh yeah, i don’t think i can come round today though im sorry.’

‘why not? it’s friday!’

‘yeah i know, but my moms being a bit weird.’

‘she’s never said you can’t come round mine though! please just ask it feels like we haven’t spoken in forever.’

‘look, i’m sorry i just can’t tonight. i promise i will some other time. maybe tomorrow afternoon?’

‘oh. yeah whatever i’ll see if im doing anything.’ your bestfriend replies coldly.

you place your hands on her shoulders. ‘i’m sorry, i mean it. i really wish i could, i just can’t.’

‘why are you being so fucking weird? you’ve never been late to school before and now you don’t even wanna talk to me? what have i done?’

‘you haven’t done anything i’m sorry, i just really can’t today. my mom got mad at me over my grades & she doesn’t want me out of the house on school days because she wants me studying.’

‘i know that’s fucking bullshit because you came round mine on tuesday. can you just tell me why you’re being a weird ass bitch lately?’

‘i don’t know what to tell you, maybe i just don’t wanna go to your fucking house have you ever thought of that?’

‘woah y/n, i don’t know what’s gotten into you but whatever it is, i hope you figure it out. on your fucking own.’ your bestfriend turns around and walks away from you. you’re left alone in the empty corridor, watching your bestfriend walk away like your feelings don’t matter. like they never mattered. like she’s the only one that can be mean, and when you finally bite back youre the only person at fault.

she turns the corner and you’re will frozen in place. your phone buzzes again.

- ☏

hollis: how abt u go home to get some clothes then i’ll pick u up?

you: yeah, sounds good

you: i think me and my bestfriend fell out

hollis: shit, u good?

you: idk

hollis: poor baby i’m sorry

hollis: we can talk abt it when i see u if u want

you: there’s not much to say but she’s noticed i’ve been weird

you: cuz yk i haven’t went to her place in like forever

hollis: how come?

you: maybe because i’ve been at your place the whole time?

hollis: it’s only been once wtf u talking about

you: well i didn’t mean it like that but if u count tutor

you: i’ve been with you nearly all week after school

hollis: i think ur being abit dramatic, if u don’t wanna be w me, don’t

you: no i do i do

hollis: then don’t complain angel

hollis: i’ll see u after school

you: why are u being mean to me?

hollis: i’m not being mean baby, i’m sorry it seems that way

hollis: i’m being honest

you: you’ve gone abit cold tho

hollis: i’m sorry pretty, i’ll make it up to you

hollis: now don’t stress urself too much

hollis: go to ur lesson, i’ll pick u up & drop u off at ur place then i’ll take u back to mine

hollis: sound good?

you: my mom can’t see u

hollis: i’ll park round the corner

you: sure

you: see u soon

hollis: see u baby

- ☏

you slide your phone back into your blazer pocket and stare blankly at the floor. your bestfriend basically broke your friendship off, hollis is starting to be mean, what if these are his true colours? you brush it off, you’ve got bigger things to worry about, like what you’re gonna wear to hollis’ place.

- ㅤꨄ︎

school was a blur. the final bell rings & you he’s outside through the huge green school gates. kids flood the streets & you search depseratley for that black mercedes. you turn a corner, staring right at the space where hollis always parks, but it’s empty. you frown & cross your arms. you reach for your phone to check if he’s messaged you, if he’s running late or he’s found a new space. nothing. your eyes widen and go glossy. he definitely told you he’s picking you up, right?

- ☏

hollis: to ur left :)

- ☏

you look to your left, and there he is. his dark tinted windows. nearly matching the shade of black his car is plastered. you smile and jog over to his car. ‘hollis you fucking- oh my god.’ you open the car door and you’re met with a huge bouquet of all kinds of pink, white & red flowers. ‘for me?’

‘yes for you angel.’

‘hollis-‘

‘get in the car quickly.’

he grabs the bouquet off the seat and lets you sit down before handing it back over to you.

‘thank you. so so much.’

‘anytime. put your address into the maps.’

you lean forward and start typing on hollis’ ipad thing in the middle of his car.

‘here.’

‘not too far. will your mom ask about the flowers?’

‘definitely, i’ll just say they’re for her.’

‘will she believe you?’

‘probably not, but she’ll have no choice but to.’

hollis giggles. ‘now tell me, what happened with this friend of yours?’

‘i don’t even know, she claims i’m acting weird recently because i haven’t been to her house in ages, which i understand because i used to basically live over at her place. but then she was kinda yelling at me then i snapped, then she just walked off from me.’

‘thats rough, i’m sorry baby. things will get better though! i’m sure you’ll make up. do you argue often?’

‘not really, but when we do, it’s really bad.’

‘oh i bet, you teenagers are real hard work.’

you raise an eyebrow.

‘what?’ you glance over at him, he’s chewing gum, his jaw moving like a reflex. what other teenagers does he take round his place?

‘what do you mean what? i’m a tutor. all i do is spend time with kids that don’t wanna fucking learn.’

‘i hate how you always mention that.’

‘mention what?’

‘that. like, you always mention stuff about kids my age. do you take anyone else to your house?’

‘bro. y/n, calm it. it’s only you, we’ve been over this.’

‘but it’s weird.’

‘don’t paint me put to be a weirdo.’

‘i’m not fucking doing that! i’m just saying you bring it up a lot and it feels like i’m not the only girl you have something going on with.’

‘y/n look at me.’ hollis speeds up and stares right at you. ‘i only want you.’

you push his head so he’s facing the road again. ‘don’t do that shit.’

‘you seem to be really emotional. is everything okay?’

‘i’m not emotional.’

‘you sure? you overthink a lot too.’

‘thats just how i am.’

‘great.’

hollis taps the steering wheel with his fingers, matching the beat of the song.

‘you can’t tell anyone about this, about us. got it?’

‘i won’t.’

‘i fucking mean it.’

‘i mean it too.’

‘how old are you again?’

‘?’

‘thats not that bad, i’m only 22.’

you go silent.

‘y/n’

you look at him.

he makes a turn towards a parking lot for a shopping centre.

‘what are you doing?’

‘i can’t focus on two things at once, ‘n we need to speak.’

‘about?’

‘this. you don’t say much when i try, and we need actually need to speak ahout whatever this is.’

‘it isn’t anything.’

‘no? it’s not?’

you shake your head.

hollis pulls the hand break and leans over the centre console, brushing the hair out of your face & tucking it neatly behind your ear. he silently asks for consent by bringing his face closer to yours. you part your lips and don’t move away, thats his confirmation. his gently presses his lips against yours, cupping your face with one hand while keeping another on the wheel. you pull away & hollis takes himself off you completely. he doesn’t say anything, but he watched your gaze carefully. you don’t take your eyes off his, but you don’t know what to say. hollis tilts his head. ‘you taste nice.’

@2bun22 @sweet2sin @ibelieveinfairyz @luvvconceal @voidatelier @lighteditvns sorry if i missed anyone comment if u wanna be on the next taglist

[lighteditvns]

All-time fav outfit he wore on stage!!!

[lighteditvns]

more work from last year

[lighteditvns]

gonna drop this lil work from last year

[unicornfairysparkle69]

no lube needed…👀👀👀👀

[missmodelsexx]

ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ɴɪɢʜᴛᴍᴀʀᴇꜱ  ɪɪɪ

— hollis x spiritual!witchy!reader

tags- reader insert, spiritual/witchy! reader, slow burn, dreamscape.

in which reader wants hollis’ undivided attention and he doesn’t pay her any mind.

𝒯𝐻𝐸 𝒮𝐸𝒞𝒪𝒩𝒟 𝒱𝐼𝒮𝐼𝒯

ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀꜱ ᴘᴏᴠ

You gave it three nights.

Not because you were being strategic, though you were— rest between visits was important, let the other person’s dreaming mind ease back into its ordinary rhythms before you disturbed them again. But also because you needed time to consider what had gone wrong. Or not wrong, exactly. The contact had been made. He’d looked. That was more than most people managed without months of preparation.

The issue was the peripheral pull. The subconscious stuffed the edges of its architecture with distractions— faces, sounds, obligations, anxieties— and the moment you introduced yourself as something real and intentional, those defenses kicked in. It was not personal. It was biological. The sleeping mind did not like things it couldn’t categorize.

You thought about what you knew about him.

Music, always music. The way his thoughts moved when he was deep in something creative— you’d heard it in the cadence of his lyrics, the way they turned mid-sentence, like he’d followed a word somewhere unexpected and decided to keep going. He was most himself in that state: tunnel-vision, low-stimulation, the world reduced to the thing in front of him.

𝒢𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝒽𝒾𝓂 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝓉𝓊𝒹𝒾𝑜, you thought. 𝒢𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝒽𝒾𝓂 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒻𝑒𝑒𝓁𝓈 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝒸𝑜𝓃𝒸𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓇𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃.

On the third night, you settled onto your floor again. Different candles this time— black and gold, for clarity of intention. You’d added a small piece of black tourmaline to your altar, for navigation. The mugwort was the same.

You went under easier this time. Like a door you’d already oiled.

His dreamscape presented differently tonight. No hallway— instead you found yourself in a room that was almost a studio, almost familiar, the kind of place that existed slightly sideways from reality. The equipment was wrong in the specific way that dream props were always wrong: the proportions off, the labels blurred, a microphone that was too tall and too silver, standing alone in the center of the room like something significant.

He was on a couch against the far wall. Elbows on his knees, eyes on the middle distance. He looked tired in the way people looked tired in their dreams— not physically depleted but worn through to something quieter underneath.

You sat down on the floor a few feet away from him, crosslegged, unhurried. This time you didn’t say his name. You just let yourself 𝒷𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒.

After a long moment— dreamtime, which was not clock time— he looked over at you.

⏾⋆

𝐻𝒾𝓈 𝑔𝒶𝓏𝑒 𝒾𝓃 𝒹𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓂𝓈 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝒹𝒾𝒻𝒻𝑒𝓇𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓂 𝓅𝒽𝑜𝓉𝑜𝑔𝓇𝒶𝓅𝒽𝓈. 𝐹𝓊𝓁𝓁𝑒𝓇. 𝒯𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒷𝑒𝒽𝒾𝓃𝒹 𝒾𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓌𝒶𝓀𝑒𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝑒𝓍𝓅𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓈𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈 𝓈𝑒𝑒𝓂𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝑜 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓃𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝑜 𝑒𝒹𝒾𝓉 𝑜𝓊𝓉, 𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓇𝑒𝒸𝑜𝑔𝓃𝒾𝓏𝑒𝒹 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒷𝑒𝒻𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓈𝒸𝒾𝑜𝓊𝓈 𝓂𝒾𝓃𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝑜𝒷𝒿𝑒𝒸𝓉.

⏾⋆

“You again,”

he said. Not wary. Not pleased. Just—noting it.

Your pulse did something complicated, but you kept your face easy. you again. He remembered. Or some part of him did.

“Me again,”

you agreed.

He looked at you for another moment, studying you the way he’d study a piece of music he wasn’t sure about yet. Then his gaze drifted sideways— toward the microphone in the center of the room, which had begun to emit a very faint sound, just below hearing, that you recognized as the pull. The dream trying to carry him somewhere else.

“Hey,”

you said, before he could follow it.

He looked back at you.

“I just wanted to talk to you.”

Something shifted in his expression. Softened, maybe. Or became more guarded— it was difficult to tell, in that specific way that made him him.

“About what?”

And that was the moment the dream destabilized. Not gradually this time— sharply, like someone changing a channel. The studio walls went thin, and you had a split second of feeling him start to slip, his attention pulled elsewhere by something even you couldn’t see—

—and then you were back. Floor. Candles. The particular coldness of four a.m.

You pressed your hands flat against the floor and breathed heavily.

𝐻𝑒 𝓈𝓅𝑜𝓀𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊.

Two words , and then the dream had taken him, but— two whole words. 𝒜𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉. He’d wanted to know. Some part of him had wanted to know what you were going to say.

You wrote that in your journal: 𝒞𝑜𝓃𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓈𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝒾𝓃𝒾𝓉𝒾𝒶𝓉𝑒𝒹. 𝐻𝑒 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓎𝑒𝒹 𝓁𝑜𝓃𝑔𝑒𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒. 𝐻𝑒 𝒶𝓈𝓀𝑒𝒹 𝓂𝑒 𝒶 𝓆𝓊𝑒𝓈𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃. 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝓅𝓊𝓁𝓁 𝒾𝓈 𝑔𝑒𝓉𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓂𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝒶𝑔𝑔𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓈𝒾𝓋𝑒— 𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓈𝓊𝒷𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓈𝒸𝒾𝑜𝓊𝓈 𝒾𝓈 𝒹𝑒𝒻𝑒𝓃𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑔. 𝒯𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓂𝑒𝒶𝓃𝓈 𝒽𝑒’𝓈 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓇𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝑜 𝓇𝑒𝑔𝒾𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓋𝒾𝓈𝒾𝓉𝓈 𝒶𝓈 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓁. 𝒢𝑜𝑜𝒹. 𝒯𝓇𝓎 𝒶𝑔𝒶𝒾𝓃 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝓌𝑜 𝓃𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉𝓈. 𝐿𝑒𝓉 𝒽𝒾𝓂 𝓈𝒾𝓉 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓆𝓊𝑒𝓈𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃.

You put the journal down and stared at the ceiling for a while, listening to the city make its ordinary sounds outside, and let yourself feel— just briefly, just for a moment— the small electric thing that was happening somewhere between intention and want.

Then you put it away. You had a lot of work to do.

⟡ ⟡ ⟡

⤶ ⤷

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: @spectranix @2bun22 @luvvconceal @kingoveverything @angelbbyunicorn @sweet2sin @y-yasminn @fakeeminkk @chesspend @gabisohot @punkarchangel @glitterandviolence13 @watercolorskyy @misoeepy

ᴀ/ɴ: —

© ᴍɪꜱꜱᴍᴏᴅᴇʟꜱᴇxx.

[2hollisarmpits]

shirtless + sweaty combo makes me tingle.🥹🥹