drunk messy sex drunk drunk sex drunk sex 2hollis drunk sex i'm thinking. i'm thinking really hard right now
oh anon i am.thinking so hard rn…..
cw :: drunk sex, dubcon
leaving a bar or a club or an after party or something where you and hollis are fucked up beyond recognition, and exhibiting a frankly embarassing amount of pda. you can’t remember if either of you called the uber or if it was from a victim of your unwavering desires — it didn’t matter, you barely remembered the ride home anyways.
what you do remember is stumbling through the door of your apartment, shirts off before your shoes. you get lost in each other, hands wandering and grasping and fondling skin. the kiss you share is all tooth and tongue, you can still taste the vodka on his lips.
you’re partially clothed when you make it to bed, and it’s not for a lack of trying. the sweat makes your pants stick to your legs, you don’t even want to think about the effort it’d take to get hollis out of his skinny jeans. not to mention how drunk you both are, and the simple task of undoing a belt now required intelligence akin to solving a sphinxes riddles, three. you chase whatever pleasure you can get through these impenetrable layers, helplessly grinding your hips against each other.
hollis breaks the kiss to graze his teeth along your neck. nipping, licking, sucking on the sensitive skin. you whine at the contact, gliding your clothed clit along his hard-on.
“ohh fuck,” it’s the first thing he’s said since you got back — not that he had much of a chance with how busy his mouth has been. “y’feel too fuckin good, gonna make me come in my pants.” his speech is so slurred and your mind is working so slow, it takes you a minute to process his words.
“i wouldn’t be mad.” you say with a giggle, and hollis nudges your temple with a scoff filled with feigned offense. “i would mind,” his words break you from your trance. “i’d be pissed off if i didn’t get t’fuck you tonight.”
you overestimated how difficult it’d be to get your pants off — you underestimated how difficult it’d be getting hollis’ pants off.
it takes a joint effort to undo both his belt and the button, even more so to pull the tight denim down his legs. you’re only able to get them halfway down to his knees before deciding it’s more than enough.
despite the drinks, hollis is hard — he’s aching, you can see it in his flushed tip and beaded slit peaking from the waistband over his briefs; whiskey dick is scared of him. he barely pulls them down before lining up to you, gathering your slick before sliding into you with ease.
you’re both groaning at the pleasure, finally getting exactly what you’ve wanted since that second shot hit your bloodstream. you pull hollis close, shoving his face into your neck, digging your nails into his back as he fucks you relentlessly. his hands are on your hips, raising you up from the mattress at an angle that has you seeing stars.
“so good f’me. god , y’feel so fuckin’ good baby, takin’ all of me so well.” hollis babbles as he fucks you, only pausing his words to moan into the bruised skin of your neck.
with his sloppy thrusts and the obscene amount of slick between your thighs, his dick slips out of you almost every other thrust. every time, hollis curses under his breath before lining himself back up, and resuming his pace as if nothing happened.
to make up for it, hollis snakes a hand between your bodies, uncoordinated fingers finding your clit and rubbing messy circles. the new stimulation has your back arching, chest pressing against his. hollis pulls away, hair draped in your face, cocky smirk and drunken eyes staring back at you. if you were capable of forming real, human words, you’d tell him how close you were.
just when you feel yourself nearing that edge, hollis pulls his hand from your clit and pulls out of you, making you whine and writhe from the lack of stimulation. without another word he grabs your hand the cradles his face, bringing it back down with him to your sopping cunt. hollis spreads fingers to form a “V” at your entrance — you look up at him with wide, confused doe eyes.
hollis meets your gaze for a moment, his eyes holding nothing but raw, dark desire. you don’t get the chance to ask what he’s doing before you feel his tip rubbing against your fingers, just before he slides inside you again.
the weight of his actions finally hit you square in the chest, knocking the air from your lungs.
you can feel him fucking in and out of you, you can feel that foamy white ring forming around the base of his cock as his juices mix with yours. you feel the brush of his pelvis against your knuckles every time he bottoms out, you’re bucking your hips to try and make up for the centimeter of lost length — how greedy of you…
“feel y’squeezing me, gonna come?” he takes your moans as confirmation. “yeah, come on me, keep squeezing this dick, make a big fuckin’ mess.”
his words are what finally tip you over. your body shivers, pulls taut, running white hot — you do just as he told you, gushing around his cock as you writhe through your orgasm.
“shit, i’m so close, y’feel too good baby. i can’t pull out, ‘m so sorry.” in any other state you’d put up a fight. but with how fucked out you were, you didn’t have it in you to protest — not to mention the wave of arousal that washed down your spine at the thought of him stuffing you full.
hollis shivers as he comes inside you, panting your name into the crook of your neck as his thrusts slow down. his hand finds yours at the connection between the base of his cock and the entrance of your cunt, fingers collecting the mix of cum and slick that oozes out of you.
he raises his hand back to you, running his thumb along your lips, silently asking for asylum. you grant it without second thought, and swirl your tongue around hollis’ fingers, quietly moaning at the taste of your mixed juices.
if there was any sobriety left in you, you’d peel away from hollis, and try to wash off all the sweat and grime you’ve accumulated over the night. but in your fucked out, fucked up, blissful state, you couldn’t care less. right now, the only thing that held any importance to you was staying in hollis’ arms, and letting sleep envelop you both.
warnings/tags: porn with plot, established relationship, switch!hollis, switch!fem!reader, teasing, blowjobs, dirty talk, praise, slight degradation, masturbation, p in v, unprotected sex, fingering, creampie (if you squint), no aftercare (round 2!)
synopsis: hollis' touring has been stressing him out, but he's hesitant to propose his ideal solution.
it’s been a long day.
well, actually, it’s been a long night.
hollis hadn’t woken up until well past noon, nearing the early evening before he decided to crawl out of bed and get his day (afternoon) started. it began with breakfast (lunch), a shower, and getting dressed. it continued with commuting, preparing, and performing. now, nearly fourteen hours later, it was ending in bed.
every time, you waited for him. you stayed up in your shared hotel room, passing time by watching movies, reading books, catching up on work — anything to keep yourself awake. when hollis finally comes back after his long day (night), his presence is always a warm welcome. and most nights (mornings) when he comes back, all he wanted was to fall asleep in your arms, letting the adrenaline dissipate in your embrace.
but tonight, things were different. hollis wasn’t just tired — he was exhausted.
between the sound crew messing up his set list and the crowd lacking any sort of etiquette, hollis was practically begging for this day to be over. you could see it in the way he dragged himself through the door and aimlessly kicked off his shoes. you could feel it when he didn’t lay in bed with you, he just sat there — elbows propped on his legs, palms digging into his eyes, completely unmoving. you tried to convince hollis to join you in bed, that all he needed was a good night’s sleep. but still, he wouldn’t budge — he wouldn’t even look at you.
you had to resort to standing between his legs, fingers combing through his hair as you invent several different variations of asking him “what’s wrong?”
and every time, he’d invent a new variation of “nothing, i’m fine.”
for a while, you were stationed in the back-and-forth, push-and-pull of the same question, and the same answer. how are you? i’m good, just tired. how was your set? alright. you wanna lie down? yeah, in a minute. do you need anything? no, just some sleep.
it’s unbearable. hollis was usually closed off around people, but he was always so open with you. to see him isolate himself so intensely from you was unsettling to say the least. are you okay? yeah, just tired. you sure? yep. you’re ready to give up, climb back into the cold, sterile bed, and hope that whatever’s bugging hollis either goes away, or comes crawling out.
but you decide to try one last time, just before throwing in the towel, in a slow, hushed tone: “tell me what’s wrong, baby.”
slowly, hollis peels his palms away from his face and towards your figure, gently wrapping his arms around your waist as he rests is forehead on your abdomen. he lets out a long sigh, and you can tell he wants to say something — every few seconds he takes in a deep breath, moments away from speaking, only to breathe it out and dig his head into the fabirc of your shirt.
“it’s just too much.”
well, that seemed to do the trick, so you decide keep tugging on this loose thread.
“what do you mean?” you keep raking your fingers through his hair, slow and steady, coaxing the tension out of him.
this time, when hollis takes a deep breath, he decides to follow through in speaking. “the concerts. the performances. i love it, god — i love it more than anything, but…” his grip around you tightens, and he moves to nestle his cheek against your stomach. “sometimes it’s too much, and…” you feel him swallow thickly, he pulls you closer. “i just wanna turn my brain off for a while.”
you nods silently, and you think that’s it, but you can still feel tension in his shoulders. so, gently, you keep prying.
“that’s okay,” you move a hand to start running up and down his back. “you don’t have to do anything else tonight, we can just go to bed an—”
“no.” his voice is firm, enough for you to still your movements, enough to make you worry that you’re in trouble. you feel hollis loosen his grip on you, hands sliding until they’re resting just above the hem of your waistband. he thumbs with it gently, something you mistakenly disregard as a nervous stim.
but when he doesn’t elaborate, you push him away to meet his gaze. “no?” you echo, searching for meaning in his stoic face. “what do you mean ‘no’?”
still, he doesn’t say anything, opting to let his head fall against your stomach once more. frustrated, you sigh, dropping your hands to your side in defeat. it’s weird seeing him like this; so nervous, so timid — he’s usually so confident and cocky, it makes you wonder what it is he wants that feels so humiliating to admit.
“what is it hollis? c’mon, just spit it out.”
it seems the firmness in your words pulls him out, because this time he leans back, looking up to catch your gaze. “i want…” you can see the confidence draining from his face, but with a deep breath, he finally musters the courage:
“i want you to blow me.” your eyes widen. “and…i want you to let me finish in your mouth.”
your eyed widen some more.
hollis was always so attentive, always putting you first — he was very selfless when it came to sex. of course you’ve given him head before, but those instances were few and far between when compared to how many times you’d been on the receiving end. not to mention it was rarely the main attraction, hearing him ask to be the sole recipient of pleasure was out of character. not that you were mad about it, there was something beautiful about watching him fall apart just because of your mouth. if anything, you were frustrated it didn’t happen more often.
but still, to hear him ask for it so blatently was shocking, to say the least.
“it’s alright,” he immediately corrects himself at your momentary hesitance. it gets him tense all over again. “we don’t have to. i was just thinking about it, it’s probably better if i just get some sleep.
“no, i wanna do it.” your murmur, and you swear you can see his eyes shimmer.
“really?” he asks, something akin to childlike joy filling out his face. smile wide, cheeks full — this would feel a lot more wholesome if he hadn’t just asked something so perverted.
without another word you kneel between hollis’ legs that hang lazily off the edge of the bed, hooking your thumbs into his jeans and pulling them down. you run your hands up and down his thighs, easing his tension, creating a new one. his eyes squint and he hisses through his teeth when you run your thumb along the inside of his thigh. hollis fists at the thick blankets, hips twitching every time you stop right before reaching where he needs you most. you’ve barely done anything and he’s already so hard.
“please…” hollis whispers, so quiet you almost don’t hear it. “baby, please.” he doubles down, just in case you didn’t.
and you almost give in — almost. you push his knees further apart with your cheek, rubbing your face along his thigh, moving to press a gentle kiss on the waistband of his briefs. he coughs up a moan with how close you are to where he needs you, and you can feel the heat radiating off of him. your gaze quickly flashes up to hollis before you move. your lips ghost along his hip, his abdomen, and finally stop to press a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss on his thinly-veiled hard-on.
instantly, hollis’ hand finds your head, pushing you into his cock while he moans at your ministrations. you keep kissing him, tongue moving along his length, making sure to lightly graze your bottom teeth along his shaft. every movement elicits a new noise from him.
your lips finally find his tip, a small, wet stain of pre greeting you. you grasp his legs and you tongue him hard, pulling hollis closer to you while you (essentially) make-out with his hard, flushed head. through your own heavy breathing you can hear his pitchy moans. every time you press your lips onto his sensitive tip he starts writhing, free hand gripping the blankets while he ruts into your face.
it’s almost unbearable. it’s too much, it’s not enough — all hollis can do is whimper at your touch, all he can say is “please…need to feel you, wanna feel you so bad…”
but you don’t stop. you keep mouthing at his cock, soaking his briefs with your spit. your hands move to his hips to try and stop him from bucking into you, but it doesn’t prove to be very effective.
when his moans start bordering on pornographic, you flick you gaze up at him. his head is thrown back, lips parted — shit, is that drool at the corner of his mouth? — and he keeps begging you, nails digging into your scalp, hips fighting against you as he keeps fucking into your mouth. his pleas start coming out as half-broken sobs, and if you were able to see more of his face, you’d note the tears pricking at the corners of his eyes.
“fuck…fuck baby, my god.” hollis starts, catching his bottom lip between his teeth to try and mute the obscenities spilling from his mouth — it doesn’t work.
“i need your mouth, fuck i need it so bad,” he groans your name as you glide your teeth across his clothed tip. “please, please i’ll be good, i’ll be so fucking good. i’ll do anything for it, i’ll be your good boy just — fuck, please baby, let me feel you.”
finally, he convinces you.
your lips leave his cock and hollis whimpers at the loss. you can feel the anticipation radiating off of him as you slide your fingers beneath his waistband, pulling his briefs down, down, down, and sliding them off his feet.
he’s hard and heavy in your hands, wet with a mix of spit, sweat and pre. you can feel hollis’ stare boring holes into your skull, and when you meet his gaze, you decide to put on a brief show for him.
with locked eyes you glide your tongue along his tip, relishing in the way his brows furrow and jaw slacks. you’ve barely started and you can feel him pulsing under your tongue. you keep up these ministrations for only a few moments longer, finally conceding to this staring contest as you wrap your lips around him.
if you thought hollis was loud before, it doesn’t compare to the obscenities spilling from his lips the moment he’s in your mouth. he’s already moaning before you even move, and once you start bobbing your head along his length, he starts whining. the hand in your hair starts pushing you deeper, and you let him. his tip rhythmically hits the back of your throat, tears threaten to spill from the corners of your eyes — it almost distracts you from his babbling.
“god yes, yes y’feel so good, so fucking good f’me, huh?” you glance up at hollis, seeing his newly adopted position of lying back on the bed, propped up with his elbow. he smirks when he catches your gaze, trying to look cocky, but you can still see the arch of his brows and tick of his jaw that proves him to still be a slave to your mouth.
“yeah…so good, such a good girl for me.” now it’s your turn to moan, eyes slowly shutting as he keeps pumping his cock with your mouth. “my good girl, feels like you were made for me, bet you love it when i fuck your mouth like this, use you for all you’re worth.” you clench at his words, and you dare to move the hand stationed on his hip between your thighs.
obviously, hollis notices this. obviously, hollis can tell with the gentle whimper you let out and the new furrow between your brows exactly where your hand is — toying with your clit, prodding at your entrance.
“you tryna fuck your fingers while you suck my dick?” the new confidence in hollis startles you, and you moan around him. you relish in the quiet whimper it elicits, a crack in his cocky shell. “bet you wish it was this dick, want me to fuck you? want me to feel how wet you are right now?”
you pause.
yes, you think. i do.
you fight his hand, lips popping from his dick, eyes twinkling at the trail of spit that leads from his tip to your mouth. you rise to your feet, trying to hide the way your legs shake, carefully peeling off your underwear. the confused look in hollis’ eyes is no where near enough to stop you as you climb onto the bed and straddle his hips.
“yeah,” you finally voice your wants. “i think i do.” you slip your hands under his shirt, urging him to pull it off. he listens, but not before tugging the hem of your shirt, and silently asking for the same. his skin is hot against yours, his hands wandering up and down your back. you lean down to kiss him, and hollis groans as he tastes himself on your tongue. but before he’s able to process anything, his cock is in your hand, and his tip is prodding at your entrance.
he’s barely inside and hollis is already moaning like a bitch in heat, head thrown back and chest arching to meet yours. his hands grab at your hips, nails digging into the flesh as you start sliding him deeper.
you think he’s trying to form words, but no one can know for sure. you catch your name as he keeps pleading, mumbling something along the lines of “so good, don’t stop, wanna fuck you forever, want you to milk me dry.”
when you finally stuff all of him inside you, his words suddenly become more coherent: “yes, fuck me, keep fucking me, just use my dick baby— wanna feel you come on me, show me how good i make you feel.”
and who are you to decline such an offer?
you don’t build up to it, you start at a brutal pace. hollis tries to hide his face in your neck as you fuck him, but in doing so you can hear everything he has to give you. his moans turn to whimpers, whimpers to mewls, mewls to more incoherence about how good you feel, how he never wants you to stop, how he wants you to fuck him for all he’s worth.
so you do. you keep rutting your hips, sliding him in and out, trying to ignore the tightness in your abdomen, because you really want to fuck him forever.
“you feel so good hollis,” you say through moans, trying to hold on to some semblance of sanity. “so big, hurts every time you start fucking me, but it feels so, good—“ you punctuate your words by slamming down on his dick, and all hollis can do is keep moaning at your words, and try desperately to chase the pleasure you’re giving him.
his hips rut into yours, and with the way he’s squirming under you, you can tell he’s close. you move to his neck, sucking bruises into his pale skin and dig your nails into his shoulders. you can feel the bed squeaking, you’re sure your neighbors can hear, but none of it matters when you feel hollis snaking a hand between your bodies, and his fingers start circling your clit.
the moan you let out is obscene, and with whatever energy you have left, you move faster.
“atta girl,” hollis coughs out, his fingers slowly moving faster. “taking me so well, using me as you please.” the pleasure of overwhelming and your hips falter — hollis seizes the moment and takes the reigns, pressing his hips up, fucking you at a brutal pace even you weren’t able to achieve.
all you can do is lie there and take it — his fingers against your clit, his cock stuffing you full, and now his lips on your neck, returning the favor and sucking bruises of his own into your skin.
and with how erratic his hips are moving, you can tell he’s is close. you try to regain the control you had, but it’s futile — hollis keeps fucking you, his own slack-jawed moans matching yours.
“i’m close, ‘m so close baby,” he whispers, as if being quiet about it won’t affect his confidence and control. “where do you want me, i need to come baby please, just tell me where.”
“don’t stop,” is what you muster, back arching as his fingers keep working on your throbbing bud. “fuck hollis don’t stop, don’t stop fucking me — just come inside baby, i want you to give me everything.”
the groan he lets out almost startles you, both because of its volume and lewdity. his free hand moves to rake his nails into your back, and between that searing pain, the brutal pace of his cock, and the quick, tight circles around your clit, it’s enough to send you over the edge.
“oh fuck, fuck yes y’feel so good, come all over me baby, show me how good it feels.” you can barely hear his words over your moans, and you’re sure it’s enough to land your room a noise complaint. but hollis keeps fucking you through your orgasm, keeps fingering your clit as your walls spasm around his cock, and all you can do is ride it out.
“i’m gonna come — gonna let me come inside, yeah? gonna let me fill you up?” you try and say something, but it only comes out as a broken sob. you opt to nod subtly, practically just rubbing your cheek against his chest. his hand finally moves from your aching clit and wraps around your waist and pulls you closer, holding you still while he keeps fucking you.
“my good girl, knew you’d let me come inside. knew y- fuck…oh fuck i kn— shit…i’m g- baby i’m gonna come, i’m—” you feel his hips raise from the mattress and he thrusts into you one, two, three more times before finishing with your name on his lips. beautiful mewls spilling from him as he spills inside of you, his brutal pace slowing to stillness once he starts twitching from the overstimulation.
laying on top of him like this, you can feel every muscle in his body tighten, and release. whatever stress and tension building inside of him was gone, and you can feel it when you run your hands up and down his arms.
“you did so good,” you start, placing gentle kisses along his jaw and neck, paying extra attention to the blossoming marks on his skin. “i’m glad i could help you unwind.”
“so did you,” he’s breathless, gently scratching your back. “fucked my damn brains out.”
you laugh at that. a full, hearty laugh. hollis, still inside you, twitches from the movements of your hips, and the subtle clench of your walls.
hollis, still inside you…still —
“hey” you shimmy in his lap, and his groan is enough to confirm your suspicions. “are you still hard?”
he chuckles quietly, hands sprawling against your back to keep you still. “maybe…is that a problem?”
if you had any energy, you’d hit his chest. “you just fucked me so hard i don’t think i’ll be able to walk tomorrow. if you wanna get your rocks off, you’re gonna have to do that by yourself.”
hollis hums at your words, gentle hands sliding to your shoulders and pushing you up, his gaze meeting yours. “i never said anything about fucking you again, did i?”
you cock your brow at his words, slowly feeling the pieces sliding together. “what are you saying?”
a smirk catches his lips. “didn’t i tell you i wanted to come in your mouth?”
click.
he doesn’t need to say anything else. in seconds, you’re climbing off of him, and sliding down to kneel between his legs once more.
thinking about early mornings with hollis and how sensitive and needy he is...ᥫ᭡
dawn slips through the curtains, painting your bodies in golden stripes. you’re stationed on his lap, your tired body comfortably straddling hollis while his hands carefully wander along your skin, your own touch mirroring his. tentative hands comb through your hair, rough calluses brush against your back. your own fingers brush against his nape, other hand trailing down his arm.
his lips are soft against yours, coaxing you out of your sleep-induced haze. you were dreaming only a few moments ago, it was hard to decipher whether or not this was real. you pull away, rays of light striking your sensitive eyes, making you squint. but you can see hollis through the glare; his hair aglow, a similar tired look in his eyes. you move to thumb his cheek, skin catching on the day-old stubble, and relish in the fact that — yes, you think. this is real.
you open your mouth to say something but hollis doesn’t give you the chance — it’s only takes a moment until his lips are on yours. there’s a new passion behind his touch. his tongue slides into your mouth with ease, teasing and wrestling with yours. you lose yourself in the feeling, in mixing his spit with yours — with every rhythmic roll of your lips you feel hollis moving his hand lower. his firm grip finds your thigh, you hiss into his mouth. his hands grope at your skin, nails leaving crescent-shaped dents in your flesh.
cautious fingers trace the soft skin, gently circling the seams of your underwear. hollis sighs into your lips when he brushes against the wet cotton folds, you feel him smile knowingly. his hands gain confidence and move to your hips, coaxing your pliant body along the hard outline of his shaft.
“already so wet for me, bet i could fuck you right now without needing to stretch you out first, hm?” the question is rhetorical, hollis knows you can’t answer. you’re biting your tongue to try and silence your moans, welcoming the pleasure he’s giving you with open legs. hollis pulls you closer, his mouth meeting your neck and sucking bruises into your skin. you sink your nails into the fabric on his back, pushing your hips down onto him, begging — pleading for more.
hollis groans at the contact, teeth nipping at your skin before his head falls against the backboard. his fingertips grip bruises into your skin, pushing you down harder. “yes,” he hisses, grinding up against the slick apex of your thighs. “just like that.”
you bury your head into the crook of his neck, biting back moans as you keep humping each other through the easily penetrable layer of your underwear. but to get more would mean you’d have to stop — god, you think you’d die if you had to stop.
“you’re so fuckin’ good,” lips brush against the shell of your ear, the hand on your hip pushes you down harder. “shit baby, i can’t stop.”
“please don’t.” you’re barely able to speak between your moans, the pleasure he’s giving you is making it hard to think. you tangle your fingers in the hair around his nape, pulling his head back and exposing the soft flesh of his nape. you don’t give him a warning before sinking your teeth in, relishing in the hoarse groan it elicits. instilled with a newfound confidence you move against his hands, finding your own rhythm to override his.
with every roll of your hips you feel hollis meeting you halfway, moaning quietly at the foreign manipulation. his movements still, and the hands on your hips are only there to grab at your plush skin.
“fuck baby, y’gonna make me cum —“ you don’t stop. you grind down harder, faster, rubbing your slick against the outline of his shaft.
its quicker than either of you anticipated; hollis finishes with his head ducked in your neck, plush lips leaving trails of spit against your skin. you can hear every moan, every hitch of his breath like this. your movements slow, and your eyes glimmer as you catch the sticky mess just beneath the thin fabric of his boxers.
warnings/tags: fem!reader, frat!hollis, smoking, drinking, party setting, fluff, light angst, no beta
synopsis: after a long week, you just needed to go out and get wasted — so what if hollis' frat was the first place you thought of?
it’s become something of a habit.
every friday night you’re constantly opening, closing, and re-opening snapchat, checking the stories of the house, his brothers, him — you tell yourself it’s because you’ve had a rough week, and you need an excuse to go out and get drunk with your friends, that’s all.
finally, you see it: the purple ring around his brothers snapchat story. you don’t wait a second before opening it, feeling your heart flutter at the sight.
“Beach Bros & Bikini Babes! Friday 10pm-2am. You know where.”
oh, did you.
shamelessly, you screenshotted the post and sent it to your friends, following it up with a short excuse about your stressful week, and how you needed to let loose. whether or not they believed it was a mystery. all that mattered was within the hour, your reliable posse was following you into the house, greeted by the familiar scent of shitty beer and shittier weed.
with a flash of your university ID and $10 to the poor pledge managing the door, you set off like a lion on the prowl, aimlessly meandering around the crowds and various tables lined with red solo cups. anyone could tell you were looking for something — someone.
though the concept of a party filled with scantily-clad peers seemed like a good idea, wandering through bodies and feeling your skin rub against theirs was enough to send shivers down your spine. though it was a warm welcome compared to the hostile cold you endured on your walk-of-shame here, you weren’t sure how many “accidental” brushes against your ass or hairy legs against your thighs you could handle. you told yourself if you didn’t find hollis soon, you’d make an excuse to leave, you’d come back in a few weeks when his house would inevitably host again.
but once you saw him, you stopped dead in your tracks. suddenly, it was all worth it.
toned, lean, donning a baseball cap with his letters stitched into it. threads of his pale gold hair peak from the edges, slick with sweat. a solo cup in one hand, ping-pong ball in the other. he’s wearing plain black swim shorts, slung low on his hips so you can see his hip bones and v-line. you’re almost positive you see a happy trail, but you tell yourself that the lighting’s playing tricks on you — you tell yourself that so you don’t get dizzy and hit the floor.
he’s the third person on that side of the table, the cups arranged in what you assumed used to be a triangle, but is now more akin to a wedge of swiss cheese. hollis tossed the ping pong ball, making sure to check his elbows before letting go, and the duo he served as a celebrity shot for erupted in cheers as he sinks a cup.
slowly, surely, with precision and calculation, you wandered towards him. you weren’t drunk enough to full-send the interaction — the pregame was cut short.
you pretend you don’t see him. you pretend like you’re actually interested in the ongoing game of beer pong. and thankfully, hollis lacked enough sobriety to start a conversation with you.
“you’re back,” he yells into your ear, yet you can still barely hear it above the music, the shouting, the bass rattling your bones. “i keep thinking i’m gonna see you for the last time, then you show up again.”
you smile at the thought of hollis thinking of you. “what can i say, you’ve wooed me with your free beer and cheap jungle juice.”
“nothing else?” he’s quick to quip back. you see him rummage in his pocket, your heart skips a beat —
a fresh pack of camels. you can see the plastic shimmer in the lighting.
you flash your gaze up at him, something you immediately regret with how quickly he’s able to pull the air from your lungs. despite being more naked than you’ve ever seen him, hollis is dripping in sweat. it shimmers off his body, beading around his neck and temple. you don’t miss the way his eyes graze over your body, stuttering at your exposed chest, double-taking at your stomach and thighs.
“take a picture sweetheart, it’ll last longer.”
hollis doesn’t say anything, just throws his head to the side with a smile, only to quickly rub it off his face. “you wanna smoke or what?” he asks, ignoring your accusation all-together.
you mull over the question, staring into the tea-leaves (foam) of your porcelain (red-solo) cup.
“yeah, sure.”
he leads you through crowds, up stairs, past a closed door, and the cool air hits you hard enough to sober you up.
you hiss at it, wondering just how badly you want that cigarette. but the plastic is torn, hollis is pulling one out, and the flick, flick, flick of his lighter is enough for you to feel confident in your decision. hollis brings the lit cigarette to his lips, offering you the rest of the pack. you take one, watching as he slips it back into his pocket, waiting as he keeps puffing from his cigarette.
you stuff the filter between your lips. “you gonna offer me a light?” you ask, glaring at the lighter in his hand. you wait a moment too long to look up at hollis for an answer, expecting to see him to be taking the world longest drag. instead, the cigarette is hanging loosely from his lips. his eyes slowly glaze over your body, trailing your curves, confidently imaging what lies under the thin excuse for swimwear you have on.
hollis purses his lips, gripping the cigarette tighter, takes a deep pull, and leans down to you, leading with the shimmering orange tip. he presses it against yours, sucking more smoke from the cig, and his eyes are trained on you like a fucking hawk. unwavering, unblinking — primal. his nose almost brushes against yours, you can hear his lungs filling with smoke.
from this close, you can smell his cologne peaking through the layers of sweat and smoke. warm sugar, hints of something sweet and spicy, and a deep, woody scent that cradles it together. god, you feel dizzy.
you pull from your cigarette, lighting it with hollis’ lit end. the smoke fills your lungs, and he finally backs away.
despite how long he’s been pulling and the nearly opaque plume of smoke he exhales, hollis doesn’t so much as clear his throat. you’re struggling to keep a cough dow, you waited too long to breathe — that must be why your heart was beating so fast.
his gaze lingers on you for a beat too long, drunken lids half closed as his deep brown eyes stay trained on you. still sweaty, still slick — fuck, is he wearing eyeliner?
you break away from the staring contest, mumbling a sheepish “thanks…” before bringing the filter back to your lips. the drinks are starting to wear off, the cigarette isn’t enough to fuel your confidence.
hollis shifts closer to you, his hip just barely brushing against yours. “no problem,” he mutters, mirroring your actions and taking another quick hit.
it was…nice…kind of, just the two of you on the balcony. you wanted it to mean more, but just like his frat, hollis himself had a reputation. you didn’t have much first-hand experience with that wit, charm, and humor of his that was able to lead girls into his bed and kick them out before dawn broke. part of you knew that’s what was going on, he was just playing the long game — probably because your friend was close to the brothers, and she must’ve made him promise he’d go easy on you.
“what are you thinking about?”
his smooth voice cuts through your thoughts, managing to cull your fear and silence your worries for a brief, enjoyable moment. the buzz is finally starting to hit you, and your head feels ten pounds lighter. maybe that’s what gives you the confidence to speak your mind.
“you — this,” you gesture to the space around you, the sliver of the universe you’ve carved, letting yourself believe it could lead to something more. “just feels weird, like i’m being scouted or something.”
hollis shifts, his body facing you, eyes slowly scanning your scantily clad body. “what d’you mean?”
you laugh out a cloud of smoke, reflecting the sly, longing gaze he dragged along your body onto his own. “this,” you repeat, more clearly pointing a finger between the two of you. the buzz is getting stronger, it’s not just your head that’s floating now, but your whole body. “i’m familiar with who you are hollis, don’t think i’m falling for this ‘soft and sensual’ gimmick, i’m not gonna fall into your bed like those other chicks.”
it takes a moment for your words to hit him, but when they do, hollis’ jaw slacks, half-lidded eyes jump open, and he moves his hands up to defend himself. “woah, who said i’m tryna —”
as if on cue, as if it were scripted, one of his brothers barges through the door to the balcony, eyes moving frantically before landing on you. “yo, did you come with a friend in a pink and white polka-dot bikini?”
your eyes quickly flash to hollis, your heart flutters when they meet his. looking back to his brother, you nod.
part of him relaxes, a different part tenses. “alright she’s like, mad sick right now, i mean she’s puking buckets into a garbage can. she’s got a couple people helping her but i really think she should be going home.”
you almost groan. this always happened, always — “she can never hold her damn liquor…” you rub the barely lit end of your cigarette into the wooden railing, stuffing whatever was left between two of hollis’ free fingers. “no need to save it for me, i’m tryna quit.”
once you leave, hollis stubs out his cherry and flicks the filter off the balcony, shoving his palms deep into his eyes. he groans, loud, cursing and muttering under his breath. without a second thought, he adopts your half-smoked cigarette as his own, lighting it, breathing in. and on the filter between his lips and the smoke in his lungs, he relishes in the fading taste of something sweet.
thinking about bf!hollis sending you videos while he's on tour...ᥫ᭡
“i miss you so fuckin’ much…” his voice is crisp, lips close to the mic of his phone as hollis angles the camera south. his slender fingers pump his cock, pale skin stark against the flushed red tip. he’s barely got his boxers off, the waistband sitting at the peak of his thighs. with every stroke his breath is getting more ragged, more pitchy — he’s struggling to keep his phone in place.
he’s holding back, keeping a slow pace, fighting the urge to buck his hips and start fucking into his own hand. hollis swipes a thumb over his tip to collect the precum, trying lubricate his hand. it’s wildly unsuccessful, and you can hear the rough skin-on-skin as he keeps jerking himself raw.
“wish you could be here to touch me — fuck,” he’s going faster now, bated breath ringing in your ears. “i wish i could feel your hands all over my body, makin’ me feel so good, like it’s your fuckin’ job — like you were born to take me.” you swear you can see his dick twitch, and you can hear how worked up he’s getting from his own words. heavy breaths have turned to pitchy moans, his fingers working at his sensitive, aching tip. there’s so much pre coming out, glistening in the dim lighting of his bedside lamp.
hollis fails to silence himself, moaning loud with every stroke, quietly pleaing under every breath. “you don’t even know what you do to me, got me so worked up just thinkin’ about you baby.” his hips jerk up to meet his fist, tip flushing a deeper red, skin rubbing raw with how fast he’s jerking off.
“i can’t wait to see you again,” hollis starts, words hitting like a punch as he keeps trying to hold back his noise. “i wanna spend hours opening you up. make you come on my fingers, on my tongue—” he moans loud at the thought, hips twitching and hand pumping faster. “i’m gonna fuck you so good…gonna fuck you ‘til you can’t take it any more, then i’ll keep going.”
his words are becoming more strained, and the fist around his cock is gripping tight, working soley on his tip. the moans he lets out are boardering on pornographic, high-pitched and desperate between each breath. you can tell he’s getting close — you catch it before he says anything.
“fuck, ‘m gonna come baby — shit. wish you could be here to take all of it, every last drop.” his legs spread and his knees buckle, hips rising from the mattress. his moans come out strangled and labored, and he’s repeating, “yes, yes, please—” over and over until he tips over that edge.
hollis comes with a deep groan, your name on his lips as thick ropes of cum coat his abdomen. his breathing becomes erratic as he bites back the whimpers of overstimulation, stroking himself through his orgasm. when he finally comes down, he teases you about needing to “clean up the mess you made,” you can hear the faint whisper of “i fuckin’ love you.” before the video ends.
warnings/tags: porn with plot, established relationship, loss of virginity, innocent/inexperienced!reader, softdom!hollis, dirty talk, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex, not proofread
synopsis: when things with hollis start to get heated, you let him in on a secret you've been keeping for far too long.
it’s barely dark out, and you feel like you’re about to fall asleep.
in your defense, there’s not much else you could do right now, given your situation: your head on his bare chest, his hand running up and down your back, the methodical rhythm of his heartbeat lulling you into a deep sleep. you’d been laying like this for a while now.
it started with you getting back from work, exhausted, complaining about the long day you had. it continued with hollis apologizing for the shit you had to go through, reminding you that you don’t have to go back until monday, and you could spend the rest of the day doing nothing. now, you were ready for it to end with you falling asleep, just like this.
but the vibrations of his voice deep within his chest wake you.
“you tired?” hollis asks, and you look up to meet his gaze, very clearly fighting sleep.
“no.” you lie.
he chuckles, and you relish in the amplified sound with your ear to his chest. clearly unsatisfied with your answer, he pulls you up with him, the two of you now leaning against his headboard. for a moment, he doesn’t say anything — eyes on you, wrapped in his blankets, lids fighting to stay open.
“it’s okay, you can go to sleep,” he offers, but you quickly shake your head.
“told you, ‘m not tired.” you lied again.
hollis pulls you onto his lap, letting you straddle him while you lean your head against his chest. one of his hands is at the back of your neck, scratching gently, while the other is on your waist.
“i’m not entirely convinced,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss on your head. you settle in his touch, slouched against him. his hand on your back moved down, almost dipping below your waistband before gently scratching your back on the way up. “i think you might need to show me how ‘not tired’ you are.”
taking the bait, you lean back, eyes only somewhat more alert than a few moments ago. the knowing grin on his face makes you scoff — you almost roll your eyes too. “yeah? and exactly how do you want me to do that?”
he’s silent, and actually appears to be thinking about a reasonable response. chewing his bottom lip, eyes looking around to search the air for answers. however, just as his fixed gaze and furrowed brows start to convince you, hollis pulls you in close and kisses you hard.
you quickly melt into him, your chest meeting his, his hands on you tightening. you reach around to envelop him, arms around his back, gently running across his shoulders. and for a moment, that’s all it is — him kissing you.
it’s only when you slide your tongue into his mouth when you feel something shift.
the hand on your nape tightens, pulling your head back and opening your mouth. you gasp quietly at the pain, enough to offset the rhythm of your lips and your teeth hit his. hollis physically leans in to you, kissing hard enough to bruise as he bully’s his tongue into your mouth. the hand on your hip pulls you impossibly closer, and you can feel how hard he is beneath his briefs. the light friction is enough to make him groan, and he starts grinding his hips up against you.
one hand slides up your shirt, urging you to take it off. the other dips low, breaking the waistband of your shorts, fingers brushing along your underwear.
it’s so much…it’s too much—
“hollis,” you say his name sternly, pushing away from his chest, heaving as if you’d almost drowned. his movements still, dilated eyes looking up at you filled with juxtaposed awe and confusion. the hand in your shorts slides to your hip, and he thumbs gentle circles into your skin.
you slouch as the energy shifts, now suddenly below his eye level. you don’t know what to say. you don’t want him to stop— fuck no. you’re pretty sure you’d throw an undignified tantrum if he did. it’s just…
“can we slow down?”
a smile eases his gaze, but it’s quickly filled with apprehension. you can tell he wants to say something, but whatever it is quickly falls on the back burner. “of course, whatever you need.” he says, nodding slowly.
but the apprehension is still there, and it’s enough to throw you off.
“hollis…i think there’s something you should know— er, something i want to tell you before we…” you gesture to the space between you. “keep doing this.”
he straightens, his hand falling from your nape to gently massage your shoulder. “of course,” he repeats. “what is it?”
you fumble with your fingers, averting his gaze as much as possible, trying to still your heart and even your breath before attempting to speak. this is something you’ve rehearsed before, but the idea of actually saying it to him is enough to make you want to jump out of your skin. you’re confident he won’t treat you differently, but what if that’s what you wanted — for this to change things, for him to be more gentle? for things to change? the confusion of what you wanted mixed with the uncertainty of what he’d say has pushed this conversation back further than you’d ever anticipated.
“okay, um…” strong start. “you’re kind of my first real, serious relationship.” you pause. he nods. “so…um, i haven’t, like…” you briefly meet his gaze, only to immediately retreat to your fumbling hands “i haven’t really done anything with anyone else…” finally, you lock your eyes into him, his unmoving, stoic face enough to give you goosebumps.
suddenly, he grins.
“what do you mean?” hollis asks, and you think he’s being earnest— but with the way he’s grinning down at you, and the hand on your hip is moving towards your ass, you start to think differently.
“do you need me to spell it out for you?” his hand is back at your nape, gripping gently as he nods. sheepishly, you look back down, eyes now locked at his chest, watching it’s slow rise and fall.
“i’ve um…i’ve never had sex before,” you whisper like it’s a dirty thing. his lack of a reaction prompts you to go further— “i’m a virgin.”
his jaw tightens as he nods, scratching lightly at the base of your scalp, gaze softening as it meets your again. “that’s okay,” he says pulling you close and giving you a chaste kiss. “we don’t have to do anything if you’re not ready.”
a beat. “no, no that’s not what i’m saying.” you pull away, your hands steady on his chest, much dissimilar to your heartbeat. “i’ve never done any of this before, so i don’t really know what i’m doing, but…” you tap your fingers against his skin while you try to find the words to gently, eloquently say—
“hollis, i want you to fuck me.”
maybe saying “i want you to be me first” would’ve been a kinder way of saying that…
you expected him to — at the very worst — be apprehensive, maybe even taken aback. you were relatively confident that he wouldn’t make a deal with it, let you know it’s something he didn’t mind, and move on with your lives. but god, you could see his eyes light up like it was christmas, and you could feel his dick twitch against your thigh.
“really?” hollis beams, and his desperation is immediately apparent. he grabs at the meat of your thigh, eyes flicking excitedly between yours. already, he’s raising his lips to meet yours, grinding his dick against your clothed, aching core.
“yes,” you plea.
he doesn’t waste another second — he kisses you hard, forcing your hips down into him, your lips barely meeting with how much he moans at the slightest touch. you start to match his rhythm, grinding against him, the sloppy friction enough to make you mewl. with his arms wrapped around you, he flips you onto your back, the sudden movement making you breathless. you barely have time to catch it before his lips are on you again, drinking up every sweet sound you have for him.
“i wanna feel you,” he grunts, pushing your shorts and underwear down. “…wanna feel how bad you need me.”
you kick off your clothes, hollis quickly following suit. when you see him, fully unclothed, you fight to keep your jaw from dropping. tip flushed, already leaking from just kissing you, hot and heavy between your thighs. the idea of him, all of him being inside of you —
god, it made you dizzy.
you raise your hips to grind your bare cunt into him, and he groans deep. he starts sliding his length against you, burrowing his face into your neck while he grunts with every thrust.
“so fuckin’ wet f’me, shit…” he grinds down harder, dragging his shaft over your clit, and you arch into him with a moan. you try matching his rhythm, moving your hips with his, and your movement gets him moaning. “y’feel so incredible, can’t wait to split you open…” his tip snags at your entrance, the brief tease of penetration making your hips buck.
“please, i need this holli—“ you reach down, trying to line him up at your entrance, desperate to feel all of him, when he suddenly pulls back.
“not yet,” he coos, leaning down to press a chaste kiss on your jaw. “gotta open you up first.” you can barely register his words before he slides a finger into you with almost no resistance. it’s only a finger, but it’s enough to knock the air out of you, and you’re sure you’re getting wetter as he starts up a slow pace.
“there we go,” he purrs, thrusting into you knuckle-deep. the rhythm is slow and steady, enough to open you up and get you acclimated to the penetration. it’s when he pulls out and thrusts another finger does he start to speed up, and you start whimpering. you can’t get out any coherent words; all you can do is moan louder as he picks up the pace and wrap your arms around him, pulling him close and relishing in his mumblings:
“that’s it, make a mess on my hand. gettin’ you ready to take this dick, huh? think you can take it yet?” and you try to say yes, please, but all you can squeeze out is a gargled moan. he doesn’t even ask before slipping in a third finger, and with the brutal pace he’s set and his pitchy breathing in your ear, it’s so much, and you’re so close—
“i need it,” you whimper, nails digging into his back, hips raising to take every inch he has to give you. “please hollis, i wanna come, ‘m so close—“
he stills completely at your words, you almost cry.
“not yet,” he repeats, starting to pull his fingers out of you, making you groan at the sudden emptiness. you watch as he curls his fingers as he pulls out, collecting your slick to rub on his cock. it’s hypnotizing— the shimmer of your juices in the dim bedroom lighting, the slow, steady rhythm as he pumps his cock— are you drooling?
hollis groans softly as he jerks himself, glancing up at you and smiling as you watch his hand. “y’feel too fuckin’ good baby,” his breath hitches as he runs his thumb over his tip. “i’m not gonna be able to stop once i start fuckin’ you.”
you still can’t meet his gaze, eyes glued on the pre leaking out of him, mixing with your slick. all you can do it nod and lick your lips, muttering, “okay, okay…” you watch him shift, wiping his hand on the sheets as he lines up to your entrance, using his knee to help spread your legs.
“hey,” his sternness snaps you out of your lust-induced haze, and you finally look up at him. there’s a gentleness in his eyes, one that fills you with peace— something you’re sure you won’t see until he’s done using you until you’re completely spent. “let me know if it’s too much, okay?”
you nod, hollis smiles, and he leans down to kiss you. it’s nothing like the tooth and tongue from before— your lips fuse together, quickly falling into tidal push and pull. he whispers “i love you.” between waves, and you almost get to say it back.
but then he starts sliding into you, and just his tip is enough to knock the wind out of you.
you can feel him grin on your lips as you gasp, chest arching into his and thighs clamping around his hips. the resistance makes him groan with frustration, and he tries to spread your legs further to open you up. instantly, it does the trick, and you can feel him slide deeper.
the pain of him stretching you out starts to melt into pleasure. he keeps trying to kiss you through your mewls, relishing in how loud you get with every inch he thrusts into you. “knew you could take it,” he whispers against your lips, slowly rocking in and out of you despite barely being halfway in. you hiss from the brief pain every time he thrusts deeper into you, but in moments it subsides, and you’re pulling him closer, silently urging for more.
he keeps this up for a while; slowly rocking into you, watching you swallow more of him with each thrust. when he finally bottoms out, his hips pressed up against yours, the sensation of being filled by him is like no other. it’s too much, it’s not enough, you’re wincing at the pain and begging for hollis to keep going, praying he doesn’t stop.
“y’feel so good baby,” his words snap you out of your haze, lips brushing against your ear as he keeps his slow, languid rhythm. you chase his hips with yours, a small, almost invisible action that makes him stop and whine.
“fuck, y’have no idea how long, how badly i needed you like this.” he pulls you closer — if that’s possible — and fucks deeper, faster, moaning loud as his tip kisses your cervix. his words fill you with confidence, and you drag a hand to the back of his scalp and tug on his hair, pulling his face up from your neck as you lock eyes with him.
“show me hollis,” you pant, your grip on his hair tightening to pull a quiet moan out of him. “i wanna feel how much you need this pussy.”
his eyes shift between yours. first unsure, bewildered, even. but then, in a second, they light up, and the new pace he sets is brutal.
the slow-soft-sensual-sex long forgotten as he ruts into you, practically whimpering as he slams his hips against yours. the sudden change of pace makes you arch up into him, incoherently babbling something like “thank you,” “so fucking good,” “please don’t stop.”
“been thinking about this for so long, so fucking long…” he’s groaning in your ear, hands groping your ass and thighs as he keeps your legs spread. “made myself come thinkin’ about y’every night, fuck—!” he cuts himself off with a low groan, keeping your hips angled so he can bury himself completely into you. “i’d fuck my hand raw, i’d go for hours thinkin’ about how you’d feel, how wet and tight you’d be,” he almost coughs out the rest of his sentance, only for it to be followed by a pitchy moan. “didn’t know you’d be this good, too fuckin’ good, won’t be able to stop ‘til you’re spent.”
hollis runs his tongue along your neck, licking soft before nipping and sucking and biting at your skin. all you can do is lie there and take it — take his relentless pace, his hands pulling on your hips to meet him half-way with each thrust. it’s so much, and you’re so close, and you’re reaching down to bother that budle of nerves that’ll get you over that edge in no time—
but hollis catches on sooner than you thought, and he almost slaps your hand away when he sees where it’s going.
“don’t,” he groans, replacing your hand with his own. “i wanna be the one who makes you come…wanna be the only one who gets to make you feel that good.”
at first it’s slow, much unlike the speed that he’s fucking into you, and you buck your hips to try and get more from him. he doesn’t change anything, no — he keeps burying himself in you, hips slapping against each other, almost enough, almost sending you over the edge, you just need him there…right there —
but he’s moving so slow, the pleasure you get from his ministrations is few and far between, and you’re so desperate to finish you almost start crying.
“please, please i need you to touch me, i wanna come — i need it hollis please—” your words come out at half-choked sobs, and he doesn’t get a chance to speak before you start up again. “shit, baby please touch me i wanna c- hollis i need to come— hollis please, god i’m yours, i’m all fuckin’ yours…”
it’s only when you stop speaking can you hear how much he’s moaning at your words, can you feel how erratic his thrusts are getting, and you realize he’s just as desperate as you are.
“fuck yes,” hollis draws out as he groans, his fingers rubbing quick circles around your clit, and the sudden stimulation has you screaming, your nails digging deep into his skin. you’re both blubbering, whimpering messes as you get off on each others pleasure, whispering each others name like prayers between “i love you”s.
you’re lifting your hips to keep getting hollis to hit that sweet spot deep within you, the one that makes the air catching in your throat and your head get all airy. you’re trying to meet him every time he thrusts into you, sloppily meeting, his dick almost slipping out of you a few times. but you don’t stop, you can’t stop — and neither can he.
the heat building in your lower abdomen as he swipes the rough pads of his finger of your clit enough to get tears to gather in the corner of your eyes. hollis keeps biting your shoulder, trying to stifle the desperation in his moans. but you’re loud, the noises coming out of you nearly pornographic as he fucks you closer to the edge. the slick spilling from you every time he pulls out spills towards your clit, and his fingers are moving so fast, and it feels so good, and you lift your hips so high your back is almost off the bed—
“shit, ‘m so close hollis, don’t stop please don’t stop…” you can barely breathe, all the air trapped in your lungs as you feel your body start to run white-hot. “im gonna come, i’m gonna c- fuck oh my g— oh my god, i’mmgrhh, hollis—!”
“that’s it baby, come for me— come all over this dick, ‘ts all for me.” and when you finally finish, you’re screaming his name, legs squeezing his hips as he keeps fucking you, fingers gently coaxing you through the aftershocks of your orgasm. but he keeps fucking into you, the squelching of your slick enough to get him mewling, and it doesn’t much more for hollis to finish.
“yes— yes baby, fuck—!” he buries his face deeper into your neck, biting at the skin, moaning helplessly as he pushes one of your legs towards your chest, finding that new angle that feels too fucking good—
“gonna come in you, ‘s that okay? you’re mine angel, all fuckin’ mine—” hollis lets out a strangled breath, his last few thrusts almost missing you entirely before he completely unravels. his pitchy moans ring in your ears, hips slamming against yours as he fucks you through his orgasm, the grip he has on you strong enough to bruise. but he starts to slow down, his whole body flinching with every slow, methodical thrust until he finally pulls out, a mix of your slick and his cum coating him.
you don’t get to say anything before he kisses you, bringing you back to that soft-slow-sentual you lost so quickly. gentle hands cradle your face, only pulling away to press chaste kisses along your cheek. “you did so good.” he murmured softly, slowly shifting to rest his weight on you. once his lips reaches your jaw, he burrows his face back into your neck, his slow, steady breaths calming your heavy heartbeat.
“sorry if i went too hard.” he mumbled, and you couldn’t help but giggle at his words, with one hand you slowly carded your fingers through his hair, using the other to run up and down his back.
“a little,” he tensed. “but it was good. really good.” his body quickly relaxes, settling into your warmth. for a moment, the two of you lay there silently — breathing in each others scent, your heartbeats falling into sync.
hollis breaks the silence by leaning up, glancing out the window. “it’s dark out now,” he very astutely observes, and you nod hesitantly. “guess you can go to sleep now if you’re still tired.”
he looks back up at you with a smirk, butting his head into your jaw as he stares at you, settling into you again. you roll your eyes, coughing up a dry laugh. “yeah, thanks for the permission.” the two of you giggle for a moment before he pulls you in closer, rolling over so you’re the one lying on top of him.
and now you’re back where you were a few hours earlier: your head on his bare chest, his hand running up and down your back, the methodical rhythm of his heartbeat lulling you into a deep sleep
frat!hollis who is the only guy in the house who gets his nic fix from cigs. everyone else is popping zyns or hitting geek bars, and hollis is the only one who rejects the gross modernity, and embraces tradition. he claims it’s because he prefers the taste, but everyone knows he only smokes to aura farm — it works, because that’s how he met you.
“fuck, i need a cig.” you say into a dwindling solo cup of beer, tipping out the rest of its foamy contents. none of your friends smoked, and you just finished your last pack a few days ago. you kept telling yourself you'd run by the drug store, pick up some snacks and a new pack, but there was always something getting in the way.
your friend — the one that dragged you here — interjects excitedly. "oh, one of the brothers has some! i think he smokes camels, you cool with that?"
your eyes light up at the mention of your brand “oh yeah.” you express enthusiastic interest, trailing your friend as she weaves you through crowds to find this camel-smoking knight in shining armor.
frat!hollis who, despite his affiliation, isn’t as douchey as you expected. his frat had something of a reputation (don’t they all?) and while you wouldn’t admit to this, part of you was worried when he invited you out on the porch, just the two of you, to share a cig.
the air is brisk, wind finding all the holes in your clothes and hitting you where it hurts. you seek warmth in the cigarette between your fingers, every hit provides only a moment of respite.
“i don’t think i’ve seen you around here before,” hollis starts, voice and eyes carrying a gentleness you weren’t expecting. “you a freshman?”
“oh, god no,” you laugh out smoke, pulling away from your cigarette for only a moment — you immediately miss it’s warmth. “i’ve done my time here, but this is my first party at the house.”
“really?” he sounds surprised, bringing the cigarette to his lips, passing the talking stick right back to you.”
“yeah…” you tap out the growing ash. “my friend dragged me here cause she’s trying to hook up with this guy tonight. he said he might pull up, but she didn’t want to come alone in case he didn’t show…”
hollis nods along to your story, you try and ignore the fact that he’s staring at you. your cigarette is out, but there’s still a blooming warmth in your chest.
frat!hollis who starts looking for you more. in the city, on campus, at parties — he’s always looking for you, always scanning the room the second he enters one to find you. when he finally does, two weeks later when his house is throwing another party, it’s him who takes the initiative, and asks you for a smoke.
you’re getting deja vu on this porch. talking about anything and everything, smoking cigs until your throat was so dry you could barely speak—
“kinda feels like we’ve been here before.” your drunk mind doesn’t give you the chance to finish your thought before you say it. this time, you and hollis are passing a cigarette back and forth. he brings it to you, his slim, elegant fingers brushing against yours as you take the offer.
“kind of does,” he leans against the railing, sliding his finger through the cracks of the wood. “gotta admit, i’m surprised you came back.”
after a long drag you nod at his words, coughing up a chuckle alongside your plume of smoke. “gotta admit, i’m a bit shocked myself.” you don’t wait for hollis to take the cig, you stuff it between his fingers that are playing with the splinters of the railing. your heart flips when he chuckles at your actions.
“oh yeah?” his eyes meet yours, you immediately catch the way he glances at your lips. “didn’t come here for years, now you’re on your way to becoming a frat rat.”
“jesus, do not call me a fuckin’ frat rat.” you audibly laugh at his accusation, hollis catches the way you glance at his lips.
“what brought you back?” he asks, avoiding your gaze as he takes a drag of straight filter. he’s about to give you shit about finishing his cigarette, but you don’t give him the chance. you’re already prancing inside, making sure to look back at him before the door closes.
hollis glances down to the filter, gently thumbs the lipstick stain you left on the golden beige skin, and decides to shove the piece of trash into his back pocket. just to avoid littering, he tells himself.
warnings/tags: gn!reader, pet names, no/limited gendered terms, fluff, hickeys, alcohol, smoking, allusions to intoxication, oral (r receiving), overstimulation, suggestive ending
synopsis: an assortment of headcanons and situations with obsessive!hollis — or: based on this ask!
obsessive!hollis who loves to spoil you. taking you out wherever you want to go, buying you whatever you want to get, giving you whatever it is you could possibly want.
“hollis, this is…” your fingers brushed over the pendant that settled on your chest, feeling him fiddle with the clasp on the back of your neck. “custom,” he told you. “pure silver,” he said. and you could see it — the shine was nearly reflective.
“expensive.” he notably left out.
just as he closed the clasp he peered from behind you, admiring how the new jewelry looked on you in the bathroom mirror. “incredible,” he muttered, helping you center the engraved silver on your chest. “knew it’d look perfect on you.”
you turned to face him, palms running over his chest as you smiled up at him. “thank you, it’s beautiful.” you said with a smile, standing on your toes to kiss him.
obsessive!hollis who loves to show the world you’re his. obsessive!hollis who gives you his clothes to wear and his cologne to use — who likes to leave obvious hickeys so everyone knows who you belong to.
“i don’t think this is working.” you say with a grunt, pushing the whisk harder into your neck. in your reflection, the small purple mark has nearly doubled in both size and saturation.
“good, it’s not supposed to.” you turn around to glare at hollis, rolling your eyes at the smug look on his face. he jumps up from bed and stands behind you, arms around your waist and chin sat on your head as he keeps watching you struggle in the mirror. his hand follows your arm and guides you to set the whisk down. his fingers brush over the massive red mark on your neck, and you swear you can feel him get harder.
“i love seeing you like this,” hollis whispers, hand tracing over to the other side of your neck where countless more hickeys sat. he leaned down to your neck leaving a soft kiss on the irritated skin. his hands traveled down, grabbing your thighs and pulling you closer to him. “i want people to know they can’t have you.”
you melt into his touch, barely putting up a fight when he starts nipping and sucking your neck, easily undoing the last fifteen minutes of progress. you don’t protest — you let him.
he pulls away for a moment, staring at your breathless reflection, briefly flashing a smile.
“i want people to know you’re mine.”
obsessive!hollis who always needs you by his side, practically dragging you out to clubs and parties, because it wouldn’t be half as fun without you.
he’s sprawled out on the couch, an arm tight around you as the crowd around him grows. there were plenty of influencers at …whoever’s house party this was, but hollis was one of few who was actually tapped in to the world of fame and recognition. and while you weren’t big on these types of parties, the ones where people just come to drink, smoke, and flex their follower count, there was something intoxicating about coming with him.
all eyes on hollis, asking him a million questions a minute, but the only thing he can look at is you.
you, through the haze of smoke from blunts, pens and geek bars — studying your features, fingers dancing on your shoulders, tracing your jaw, playing with the hairs at the base of your scalp; he wouldn’t let you out of his sight. he couldn’t, even if he wanted to.
he leans in close, lips brushing against your ear. “i don’t know why i keep coming to these things,” he has to yell, even at this proximity. not that anyone but you could hear him. “i think i’ll meet someone important, but these people are all cheap ripoffs of each other.”
you giggle at his words, the second-hand already making your head spin. it’s your turn to get close: “wanna head out?”
hollis looks away for a moment, scanning the crowd, coughing up a chuckle. “yeah,” he says before turning back to you, getting close enough to feel his breath on your lips. “i think i’d rather be at home,” a quick kiss. “with you…” he collects a fistful of your hair, tugging your head back and giving you a sloppy, opened mouth kiss. “alone.”
obsessive!hollis who praises and worships you like it’s his full-time job. he’ll give you compliments on features you didn’t even know existed — the fuck is a canthel tilt? — and make sure you know, that you really, really know how beautiful you are to him.
it’s been…what, an hour? maybe two? god, maybe even more, you wouldn’t know — you’ve been fading in and out of consciousness since the third time hollis made you finish.
his head is stuck between your thighs, pushing your hips down as you buck from the overstimulation of your nth orgasm. you already tapped out, but with the blown-out, lust-filled look in his eyes as he begged “please, just one more?” you couldn’t say no.
but now you had to say no.
gently pulling him up by his hair, your chest heaving, you sigh out a “please, enough…” and he seems to take the hint.
“y’did so good f’me,” he mumbles between kisses, licking soft at times, biting hard at others. “so perfect, taste so fuckin’ good too.” his lips are on the flat of your chest when he looks up to you, gently rubbing his cheek into your skin before moving up to envelop you in a kiss. you taste yourself as he pushes his tongue into your mouth, only to pull away and leave a trail of kisses along your cheeks, your jaw, your neck—
it almost distracts you from him grinding against you.
even the slightest friction sends bolts up your spine an tears in your eyes. “hollis!” you whine out his name, arching into him until your chests to meet. “it’s too much—”
“c’mon angel,” he murmurs, placing a soft, calculated kiss at the base of your neck, just so he can feel your breath hitch as he grinds against you again. “i know you can take it, you always do.” you barely put up a protest as he rubs his tip against you, collecting your slick.
and in moments, he’s slowly sliding inside you, head buried into your neck as he muttering words of praise between each slow thrust: “thank you…needed to feel you so bad. y’feel so good, shit— gonna fuck you so good, gonna show you how much i love you…”
