an: still intro but a lil sum 😸😸😸

masterlist firstpart

Who's the crazy bitch everyone is obsessed with?

LOCAL NEWS REPORT

Local Woman Arrested After "unsettling" Office Attack; Victim Hospitalized

By: Investigative Staff

Published: Early 2025

*All information contained in the newsletter no longer exists*

mugshot of y/f/l/n

A routine afternoon at CrashSite Enterprises' corporate office turned into a "scene of absolute terror" on Tuesday, according to witnesses.

Police responded to a 911 call made by Head Security of CrashSite at approximately 5:15 PM regarding a domestic disturbance that escalated into a violent assault. Upon arrival, officers detained Y/N, who was reportedly being held by Head security in a private office.

According to the police report, the suspect entered the building and bypassed security to confront an employee, identified by sources as her former boyfriend, something regarding "unanswered text messages."

Witnesses say the suspect entered the victim's office while he was in a meeting with a female colleague. Following a brief but heated exchange, the suspect allegedly seized a metal letter opener from the desk and stabbed the victim.

Anonymous Statements from witnesses

"It happened so fast. One minute they were arguing, the next  I heard a scream come from his office. Barging in and seeing that he was pinned to the desk, and hearing that sound. The sound he made... it didn’t sound human," - Employee 1

"I didn't see anything, but I did hear him. And hearing a grown man screaming like that changed my life." - Employee 2

"The way she rushed in and slammed the door to his office, you could see he had nothing but trouble coming his way" - Employee 3

"Seeing the hole in his hand took me back to all the times I told him a girl that pretty has all her screws loose" - Employee 4

The victim suffered a deep puncture wound to the palm of his right hand. Responding officers noted that a letter opener the victim had on his desk had been driven with enough force to "embed the tip into the mahogany surface of the desk."

The victim was treated at the scene and later transported to a local hospital for surgery.

“She put a hole in my fucking hand.” 

 The victim continuously repeated while being treated. 

While being escorted from the building in handcuffs, witnesses noted the suspect's "disturbing lack of remorse," describing her as having a "vacant" or "trance-like" expression.

Following a psychiatric evaluation, the suspect has been remanded to a state-mandated mental health facility for observation.

"This wasn't just a breakup gone wrong," a responding officer told reporters. "This was a calculated, high-velocity escalation. It’s a miracle no one else was hurt."

The requested article (ID: #2222-CRIME) is no longer available. INFORMATION VOIDED

an: ayeee now we can really get into itttt. lmk how you guys like it so far, I am genuinely so excited.

taglist <3 (this is mostly my permtaglist)

An: The inspo for this series is @myliifeisamess STALKER !!! Heads will roll if I have to repeat myself..... anyway, I love you guys sm, and I hope you're excited for this series I got big plans!!

masterlist part one

Many influencers do it for the fame.  Sometimes, the money. Some because they wanted to make a difference.

But that’s not why you did it.

 You did all of this for him.

Last year, you discovered this artist, 2hollis. He was Gorgeous. Long blonde wavy hair, with bangs. Bangs on a man?? You were drawn immediately.

Watching him and learning his music, you could tell he held most of the attention from the people around him. He carried himself like he was made for the spotlight. All the attention he got felt deserved at least that's what you thought, until you watched the boyliife in tokyo vlog.

That's when you saw him. 

Roman Ray Leal. 

He was contrasting everything that Hollis was. His skin was tanner. Black hair that stopped to his ear. His features dark. He was breathtaking. 

The lighting throughout the video was blue, making Hollis glow in the center while Roman faded into the darkness.

You were stunned. Heart racing, a reaction so dramatic that your snack fell off the bed. You paused the screen, the light lighting your face as Roman's face covered your screen.

 It was love at first sight.

 You knew he was yours. He was made for you, and you couldn’t explain the feeling. It was like your destiny was just revealed to you.

In the video, he appeared quiet, but you could hear him make a joke or two. The sound of his voice curling to your ear.

The fighting scene between him and Ryan in the hotel room showed you a different side of him. He was funny and silly. You found yourself laughing at his jokes and his simple actions.

That night, you watched the vlog 22 times. 22 on purpose. You had to make sure everything was aligned. Destiny could not lose its course.

That first impression rewired your brain. You needed to know more about him. You followed him on Instagram, you made Pinterest boards, photo cards, and joined online spaces... anytime you could talk about him, you would. He became an obsession. You thought about him night and day. Posting vulgar tweets about what you wanted him to do to you. 

Every thought was him. 

You imagined what you would say if he was with you. Sometimes while you did your makeup you told stories to yourself about you and Roman's relationship. How it will be. Practicing how you would talk to him, giving him your best first impression. A impression that would make sure what was destined will be. You perfected the script even. It consumed you.

Around this time, as your love for Rommulas started to grow, you were shit-posting videos on TikTok. You know, the usual thirst trap to the sexy sound. It was for fun. It was just another day you thought you looked good. So you posted a TikTok, not thinking anything of it, but that night, right before you went to sleep, you wanted to check , see if you were flopping.

Then you saw it. 500,000 likes.

An inflation of likes and comments more than you ever could have imagined. Just from a video of you lip-syncing.

Everyone asking who you were. Where you came from.

You gained over 200,000 followers from that one video. And the idea hit you.

What if you used this fame to your advantage?

Obviously, there were a lot of perks, but to you, the biggest one was the proximity to other celebrities.

What if this was your opportunity to get yourself closer to Roman?

Fulfill your destiny.

It seemed out of reach at first. You lived states away from California. No money and no car. But you felt like your golden ticket was staring at you, just waiting for you to take it, so you did.

The girls asked for makeup tutorials, so you provided intricate details of every product and every step.

When they wanted a gym routine, you had no problem executing.

You prioritized every and anything to connect to your audience. Letting bits and pieces of your personality show. Keeping them activated like you were their friend.

Because it takes a parasocial to build a parasocial following.

Your plan of appealing to your audience was working, and working well. You gained up to one million followers on TikTok in 9 months.

You loved how slowly you started to see the things that you needed start to fill themselves in.

Your family couldn’t understand it. They started questioning this certain "thrust of ambition." They were trying to figure out what the reason was... but they didn’t know it was a who.

While you were gaining followers, you hit a bump in the road. You realized your content wasn’t for the target audience that you were trying to reach.

The following you made didn't matter if the community isn't the one you're looking for.

So you started trying to appeal to a different audience.

Experimenting with hair dye and wigs. You get more into fashion. Always looking for pieces that were bolder, more unique.

You feared this sudden change would discourage some followers, but they ended up loving it even more.

The attention circled around your pieces of clothing. Mainly your shoes. Your heels were something you took pride in, the more unique the better, and everyone noticed.

You moved the traction over from TikTok to Instagram because that's where the real attention is. Everyone gets famous on TikTok, but Instagram people took it more seriously.

Your community grew with more people who were also into archival fashion and underground music. Common to refer to themselves as “niche.” This community helped put your name out there and they were obsessed with you.

This group of fans was able to at least get you into the same conversations as the people close to him.

You became mutuals with girls like KILLING!INNØCENT, Sirena Warren, Chessa Subbiondo, and Ella Woolsey. It was important for your brand that you held this vibe that many people categorized as an “IT GIRL.”

A year ago, you couldn’t afford a tank of gas; you could now afford a brand new car.

And you slowly but surely start to see more and more items checked off the ‘To do' list.

Check.

Check.

Check.

With every goal checked off, it’s a step closer to Roman.

The people around you start to worry. Wondering if you're going to "break" again.

Whispering that you're taking this whole social media thing too seriously. Taking notice to the weight loss, the change in your style, even the way you carried yourself. They cast the thoughts away, figured no boyfriend, no problem.

But they were wrong. You had a boyfriend, he just didn’t know you existed yet.

yet.

One detail forgotten about that night you discovered 2hollis, it was also your first night in the psych ward.

That story starts with a man. Like always.

Early last year, you had a boyfriend who was such a fucking pussy. But like every girl ever, you loved him.

So you texted him like you do every morning, wishing him a good day at work.

That's all you wanted.

But he didn’t respond.

One hour goes by, cool.

2 hours go by, okay….

Three full hours.

No response.

At that point, your entire room is torn apart piece by piece. The only way to keep you distracted. Your bedsheets are thrown on the floor. Everything on your makeup vanity was pushed to the ground.

But hour four is when you really started to lose it.

So you text him again a simple

“what the fuck are you doing?”

That's when you see green.

No.

No.

No.

No.

You don’t pay your phone bill every month for your messages to be fucking green.

For him to do this, block you like you didn’t know his schedule by heart. Like that could keep you away from him. You would've laughed if anger didn't consume you the way it did.

You check the time and see it's 5 o'clock. Knowing he must still be at work. You grab your parents' car keys and drive as fast as you can to his job.

The door that would usually feel heavy flies open with ease, all the anger building in your body. You walk up to the receptionist, give her your boyfriend's name, and ask her to let you up.

Guess what the bitch says?

No.

Does she not clearly see you're already pissed off? You ignore her. Your asking was just a polite courtesy. You scoff and continue walking.

You hear her saying dumb shit like “stop” and “this is private property” whatever.

You walk off the elevator and straight into his office, where you see his coworker with her hand on his right shoulder, her body pressed to his chair.

He looks up at you, fear washing over him. He gasps, pulling away from her embrace like that could save him.

He asked her to leave, probably scared that if she stayed, you would harm them both.

He was right.

She walks out, and you slam the door shut.

“Hey, babe......” You look at him with what you call love and admiration.

He called it “belligerently crazy” in the police report.

He answers “y/n you can’t keep doing this. You and I... we aren’t together anymore.”

You roll your eyes. You aren’t broken up unless you decided that, and you didn't. “If we aren't together, why do we text every day?”

He continues, “You send me good morning texts and I thumbs-up them, y/n. Not even because I want to, because I have to, or you do this shit. I can’t do this with you anymore, you're fucking crazy.”

That word shakes your spirit. You’ve heard it many times before and it has never ended well.

You can feel your whole body heating. Your nails dig into your palm, almost drawing blood, forcing yourself to keep it together.

As you tried to cool down, you spotted a letter opener in your peripheral.

One of the prized possessions he never shut up about. You take it out of the supply cup and, without thinking, almost instinctively, you stab it into his hand.

You feel the letter opener go through his hand and hit the table.

He screams like a pussy, leading office security and all the staff straight to him.

Sure, the sight was scary in theory his hand bleeding out all over his desk, his expensive suit cuffs splattered lightly in blood.

But this wasn’t your fault he used that hurtful, disgraceful word. If anyone was fucked up from the situation, it was you.

Head security escorted you out and called the police while he held you "hostage" in his office for an hour, going on and on about how much "force" it takes to stab someone with a letter opener.

He found it amusing that a girl who looked like you could do that. He told you you were dangerous, but you didn't think it was that serious.

The police took you into custody, and then the rest was history.

The psych ward changed everything.

Your first night in, you couldn’t sleep. Your surroundings were so depressing, like they sucked the life out of this place. The small bed was endlessly squeaking, driving you even crazier than everyone said you were.

Your roommate Ramona offered you her iPod, hoping the music would distract you.

She said she stole it from her dead best friend. Spooked you out a little bit at first, but you ignored it because she had fantastic music taste.

This unplanned trip to the loony bin got you diagnosed.

Doctors said you showed signs of obsessive-compulsive disorder, but with a hyperfixation on your relationships. They said you made them the center of your life and clung to them.

But that wasn't what you were doing.

You were just in love. And the way you let love consume you is beautiful, frantic, abrasive, it isn't meant to be "normal".

This incident scared your family made them fearful that boys would take you back into your old habits.

Nobody understood. You weren’t the problem. Your ex was.

Roman wouldn’t push you like that.

He was better.

You were better. Richer. More popular.

Famous.

And now you have just been able to check one more thing off your checklist.

A down payment on an apartment in LA.

You’ve been planning this for months.

Being in LA was the center of the goal.

Without LA, there was no Roman.

To others, it was impulsive and cliché.

Another Influencer hits one million followers and moves to LA.

This influencer shit didn’t matter to you.

He did.

Now that you made it to LA, your next step was simple.

Find him.

An: AYEEEE WHAT WE THINK. I just love a crazy hoe likee... idk why u so comfortable ts ain't over the next part is up!! here

taglist <3 (this is mostly my permtaglist) just lmk to be added mwah

sneakylink!nettspend x cocky!reader

information: You met Gunner at a concert a few months ago—he was hooked on your cocky personality, and you couldn’t ignore how badly he wanted you. What started as casual hookups turns into a power game, and when he crosses a line—like tonight—you decide to remind him exactly who’s in control. cw: smut! dirty talking, dom!reader, sub!nett, degration kink, pain kink, oral (F rec), p in v, riding, name calling, creampie masterlist taglist

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

It had been a long day — one of those dragging, never-ending ones that seemed to stretch on for what felt forever. You’d woken up before the sun had even fully risen, there had been no easing into the morning, no quiet moment to gather yourself — just straight into the chaos.

By the time you made it to set, everything was already in motion. Cameras flashed relentlessly, the bursts of light hitting your eyes over and over again until you swore you could still see them when you blinked.

Voices overlapped — directors calling out instructions, assistants scrambling around with last-minute adjustments, stylists tugging at fabrics and fixing your hair between every shot. Hands were constantly on you, repositioning, correcting, perfecting. Outfits were pulled on and stripped off just as quickly, fabrics brushing against your skin in a blur of textures as the day blurred along with them.

You barely had a second to breathe.

Every time you thought there might be a pause, someone was already ushering you somewhere else, already asking for more — another pose, another look, another version of you. Your feet ached, your head throbbed faintly, and there was a tightness in your shoulders that refused to loosen no matter how many times you tried to roll them out between takes.

And through it all, your phone hadn’t stopped buzzing.

You’d tried to ignore it at first, letting it vibrate somewhere off to the side while you focused on getting through the shoot, but it had been persistent — buzz after buzz after buzz until it became impossible to tune out. Eventually, during one of the rare breaks you were granted, you reached for it, already knowing exactly who it would be before the screen even lit up.

Gunner.

Gunner: yo ma Gunner: you busy? Gunner: wya girl im tryna see you

A small, tired scoff slipped past your lips, more amused than anything as you stared at the messages. Of course he was trying to see you. Of course he had no sense of timing.

You typed back quickly, thumbs moving with practiced ease despite the exhaustion settling into your bones.

Y/n: i’m at a shoot gunner

The reply came almost instantly, like he’d been waiting for you.

Gunner: aight Gunner: i’m coming over after

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head slightly as if he could somehow see you through the screen.

Y/n: no your not

Gunner: dont be like that

Your lips pressed into a thin line, though there was a hint of a smile tugging at the corner despite yourself.

Y/n: im gonna be tired, i dont have time for you

Gunner: i wanna see you Gunner: please

You let out a quiet breath through your nose, leaning back in your chair for a moment, closing your eyes briefly before responding again.

Y/n: you’re starting to irritate me

Gunner: not my intent yk that mama Gunner: ik u stressed, lemme help

Y/n: no

Gunner: cmon girl Gunner: you gon make me beg?

That earned a soft huff of amusement, your head tilting slightly as you stared at the screen.

Y/n: i wont stop you

Gunner: y/n

Y/n: gunner

Gunner: please let me see you Gunner: i’ll be so good

Now that—that—made your interest flicker just a little stronger.

Y/n: oh yeah? You gonna listen to me

Gunner: everything you say Gunner: you control me

Your brows lifted slightly, a smirk slowly forming as your exhaustion momentarily took a backseat to something far more entertaining.

Y/n: you gonna keep that attitude if i see you

Gunner: yes, i’ll do anything

You let the silence linger for a second, letting him sit in it, imagining him staring at his phone waiting for your response.

Y/n: fine, im heading home now. Dont keep me waiting

Gunner: im omw rn baby

You locked your phone, the screen going dark as you slipped it back into your pocket, pushing yourself up as your team began wrapping things up around you.

You gathered your things, offering quick goodbyes, half-listening to the chatter around you as you made your way through the building and out into the cooler evening air.

Sliding into your car, you let out a slow breath, your head falling back against the seat for just a moment before you started the engine. As you pulled out onto the road, the city lights beginning to flicker on around you, your mind drifted back to the messages — the way his tone had shifted, the way he’d folded so easily under your words.

A smirk tugged at your lips, growing just a little sharper as you drove.

・・・・

Soon after you got home, you heard the sound of Gunner's car pulling up to your driveway. You lay casually in bed, waiting as he made his way inside.

“Y/n?” His voice came through a little rough, and as he turned the corner to your bedroom, his whole demeanor switched. “Hey ma,” his voice softened as he walked over to you.

You scrolled casually through your phone, paying him no mind. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your cheek. “You look so pretty,” he mumbled against your skin. You turned to face him and looked him up and down before shifting your body so that you were sitting on the edge of the bed.

He hovered tall in front of you, and he smirked, reaching out to cup your face, but you pulled his hand away. “I wanna kiss you,” he complained, but you didn't break — he might've thought you were only half serious over text, but you weren't.

“Get on your knees,” you told him, your voice low but confident. His face contorted for a second, but the look on your face made him sink down slowly in front of you. His eyes were leveled with yours now.

“Why’d you hesitate?” you asked in a soft voice, your hand reaching out to play with his hair. He leaned into your touch, your words seeming to slide right off him. “You’ve never asked me to do this before.” You chuckled softly before tugging his hair — not enough to seriously hurt him, but enough to assert yourself. A shaky groan left his lips. “Fuck,” he said so quietly you barely caught it.

Your fingers moved to start massaging his scalp again. “Did you like that, Gunner?” you teased heavily. He pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek and looked away.

You grabbed his chin with the same hand that had been in his hair and pulled his face closer to yours. “Are you a slut?” He bit his lip as his eyes searched your face. “I just wanna kiss your pretty lips,” he spoke in a rough voice, like this was paining him.

You nodded. “You can kiss me when I say so.” He groaned. “Please ma, when can I?” You thought for a second as Gunner twitched in his position between your legs.

“After you prove to me that letting you come over wasn't a waste of my time.” He pouted softly at your words. “You think I'm a waste of time?” His hands found your thighs, and he rubbed softly, like it would take back your words.

“Aw, of course not, baby,” you teased, your hand finding his hair again. “But you have to prove yourself.” He understood you immediately and nodded softly. His hands found your hips, and he slowly pulled your pants down. His mouth found the exposed skin, nipping and sucking up your thighs.

His eyes looked up into yours as he pulled down your panties, looking for any hint of hesitation, but you didn't show any. Once you were fully exposed in front of him, he pulled your legs over his shoulders and buried his face into your pussy. You let out a gasp, and your body bucked against his face as he lapped at your clit — your stomach clenching in pleasure.

“Fuck, you’re doing so good for me,” he hummed against you as he ate you out messily, his chin soaking with your juices. “Wanna make you feel good, mama,” he muttered against you. “You taste so fucking good.” His eyes rolled back as his tongue plunged inside of you, and you cried out as he fucked you with it, thrusting deep and swirling to hit every sensitive spot.

Your fingers found his hair again, and you pulled harder this time. He moaned into you, the vibration sending shocks through your core, and you laughed through the pleasure. “I knew it, you fucking slut.” His eyes looked up into yours, glossy and submissive. His hips bucked against your leg — the bulge in his pants hard and insistent, grinding desperately for friction.

“You’re pathetic, grinding yourself against my leg as you eat me out,” you said, tugging his hair again. His eyes glossed over from the sharp pain, but not once did he stop.

His pink, plump lips devoured you, sucking your clit between them before flicking his tongue rapidly over it, then diving back in to lap up your wetness.

He groaned louder, his breath hot against your folds as he sucked and licked, his nose brushing your clit with every eager push. “I bet you like all of this—bet you love it.” He nodded quickly. “I love it, ma. I love being your slut.” You pushed his head away from your pussy, and he whined.

You took in the sight of him, lips slick and swollen from devouring your pussy, his hair a tangled mess from your grip, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he caught his breath.

You pulled his face close to yours, noses brushing, breaths mingling. “You’re my slut?” you asked, a smile curving your lips. He hummed a desperate yes, eyes locked on yours.

“You’re the only person who could ever make me feel like this.”

As soon as the words left him, your lips crashed into his. He groaned deep into the kiss, surging up from his knees to press you down against the bed. His cock strained hard against your inner thigh through his pants, throbbing with need as he devoured your mouth — his tongue sliding against yours in a heated, messy kiss, tasting yourself on him.

He repositioned you swiftly, hooking your legs around his hips before flipping you both over. He sat up, pulling you into his lap, your bare pussy grinding flush against the thick bulge in his sweatpants. He was rock hard, and you felt every ridge and vein pulsing beneath the fabric.

You ground slowly against him, rolling your hips to tease the length of his shaft. His hips bucked up involuntarily, chasing the friction, and a soft whimper escaped you, but you bit it back, maintaining control.

“Tell me what you want,” you demanded, voice firm. He swallowed hard, throat bobbing. “I want you to ride me.” He leaned up, lips trailing hot kisses along your neck, up to your ear. “Try again. Beg for it.” His teeth sank softly just under your earlobe, nipping the sensitive skin, and your breath hitched sharply.

“I need you… fuck me, baby. Use me, I don’t care—I’m your slut.” You hummed approval, grinding harder against his cock. Precum soaked through his boxers and sweatpants, wetting your folds as you dragged your clit along the damp spot. He let out a low, broken cry, hands clutching your ass.

“I need it. Wanna feel your tight pussy clench around me… please, mama, I’m so hard for you. Please fuck me.” He looked utterly needy beneath you, words tumbling out in fractured sentences, his pupils blown wide with desperation.

“You’ve been so good for me, Gunner,” you praised, capturing his lips in another kiss. Your hands slid down to tug his sweatpants and boxers off in one rough pull.

His cock sprang free, slapping heavily against his stomach, the deep pink tip glistening with precum that beaded and dripped down the shaft.

You wrapped your fingers around him, stroking slowly from base to head, thumb circling the slick slit. He shuddered, letting out a shaky breath, hips twitching into your grip.

You didn’t waste another second. Lifting your hips, you positioned his cock at your entrance and sank down slowly, inch by inch, watching his face contort in ecstasy as your pussy stretched around his thickness.

Pleasure flooded his features — eyes fluttering shut, mouth parting in a silent gasp — as you bottomed out, his cock buried deep inside you.

His hands yanked your shirt up, exposing your tits, and he leaned forward to bury his face between them, nuzzling the soft flesh. His arms wrapped around your hips, guiding you as you began to rock back and forth.

Your pussy clenched tight around his cock with every movement, slick walls gripping him as you rode him steadily. Both of you moaned, the sounds echoing off the bedroom walls, growing louder as your pace quickened.

Gunner latched onto one hardened nipple, sucking it into his hot mouth, tongue flicking over the peak while his teeth grazed it lightly. You cried out at the dual sensation. His other hand cupped your free tit, kneading the flesh and pinching your nipple between his fingers. You rode him faster, hips slamming down, chasing the tight coil building low in your stomach.

Your ass clapped against his thighs with each bounce, the wet slap of skin on skin filling the room. His fingers dug into your hips, hard enough to leave bruises, as his cock assaulted your soaking pussy — thrusting up to meet you, the swollen head brushing your cervix with every deep plunge. You moaned loudly, the sharp jolts of pleasure making your vision blur.

Your legs trembled, movements slowing as fatigue set in, but Gunner took over seamlessly. He gripped your hips tighter and started thrusting up into you even faster, pounding relentlessly. His cock drove in and out, stretching you wide, hitting that spot inside that made stars burst behind your eyelids. You arched back, hands bracing on his chest, nails scraping his skin as he fucked up into your pussy with raw, desperate force.

You cried out, “Fuck! Oh god, Gunner, that feels so fucking good.” Your body shook uncontrollably from the overwhelming pleasure, every thrust sending shockwaves through your core. His chin rested against your chest, stubble scraping your skin as he fucked up into you relentlessly, his hips snapping with desperate force. Sweat slicked your bodies, making each slide of skin on skin louder.

“You gonna cum on my cock, baby? Fuck, I wanna feel you leak all over me,” he growled, voice rough and pleading, eyes locked on yours with raw hunger. You nodded mindlessly, lost in the haze, leaning down to capture his mouth in a frantic kiss. The coil in your stomach tightened viciously, vision blurring at the edges as your nails dug deep into his shoulder, breaking skin. He grunted through the sharp pain, a mix of agony and ecstasy flashing across his face, and you felt his cock twitch hard inside your clenching pussy.

“Come on, ma, cum for your favourite slut,” he urged, the words filthy and commanding in their submission. That pushed you over the edge — your body tensed, shaking violently as your orgasm crashed over you in massive waves of blinding pleasure. You threw your head back, a loud, broken moan tearing from your throat, walls spasming around him, milking him as you gushed around his cock.

He whimpered high and needy, pulsing deep inside you, his cum flooding your pussy in hot, thick spurts that overflowed, dripping down your thighs. You both collapsed backward onto the bed with shared gasps, chests heaving.

He pulled out carefully, his softening cock sliding free, a mix of your releases leaking from your well-fucked pussy. He rolled to lay beside you, both of you panting, bodies spent and glistening.

You turned your head toward him, and he mirrored you, gazes meeting in the quiet aftermath. For a moment, you just watched each other, breaths syncing, the air thick with satisfaction. “You okay?” he asked softly, concern softening his features as he reached out to brush a strand of hair from your face.

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Did I make you bleed?” you asked, glancing at the red marks on his shoulder, faint trails of blood welling up.

He shrugged, unconcerned, a faint grin playing on his mouth. “Probably.”

You chewed your bottom lip, eyes narrowing playfully. “You’re a slut with a pain kink,” you teased, voice laced with affection and cockiness.

He smirked, eyes darkening with lingering heat. “Your slut with a pain kink.”

You rolled your eyes, scoffing lightly. “Pathetic.” The degradation rolled off your tongue easily, and it only made his smirk widen, a spark of arousal flickering back to life.

Before you could say more, he rolled himself on top of you, pinning you gently with his weight, his softening cock nestling against your thigh. “Don’t get me hard again,” he murmured, voice husky, before leaning down to kiss you deeply, tongue slipping in to taste you once more.

2hollis x female reader MDNI

wc: 2503 Masterlist Part 2

cw: broke bf, p in v, established relationship, domestic fluff, public sex, fem! recieving

Info: Series of smutshots with you and your boyfriend, Hollis, through his music career. With each part, he’s a little less “not shit” and a little more famous.

An: i love him like broke bf save me

October 2024-

Hollis walks into the room fully ready. He’s dressed in a black button-up, black jeans, and black boots. You can't help but watch him in the mirror.

Hollis asks, “Are you ready yet?”

You turn to look at him with a blank stare, rollers sitting in your hair, and still in a robe.

“Yes.”

He rolls his eyes at your sarcasm.

 “You know the restaurant is only a five-minute drive, and our reservation isn’t for an hour?”

“Yes, I know,” he says, smiling ear to ear.

Hollis has been working his hardest to get to where he wants to be. You see him daily working and in a consistent spot with his music, and he’s not letting up anytime soon.

Since the summer show, his tracks have been blowing up on social media, specifically TikTok. He found the trends to be kinds corny, but he was always grateful for his fans. Hitting a boost in listeners and followers hes been able to capture the eye of a big record label, Interscope records.

 Tonight was the meeting with the label executive, and based on the two of you researching the quality and price of the restaurant, you knew it was to celebrate something big. It’s been a week since he found out about the reservation, and he cannot shake off the jitters.

He rushes over to the side of the bed closest to your vanity to watch you while you start doing the finishing touches on your makeup.

“I’m just really excited. If tonight is the night I get signed, that means I’m getting somewhere with this music shit. I don’t have to listen to all the bullshit about me being some kind of loser chasing a dream. And the best part is I have my sexy girlfriend with me.”

You laugh at his comment and walk to the closet to find the dress you wanted to wear tonight, a gold Hervé Léger bandage dress. You walk up to him with the dress still on the hanger, placing it up to your body.

“So what do you think?”

He looks at you in awe, like you are already in the dress. "Gold looks unbelievable on you. It’s perfect. Don’t even think abt wearing anything else tonight.”

You look at the dress in the full-length mirror, and you agree it’s perfect. Wearing gold the day you become a WAG is cunt.

You turn to walk into the closet, Hollis’ eyes still watching you as you turn around. You grab the string of your robe to change.

You hear him tell you to stop. His voice echoes through the room.

He pulls two fingers up and waves you over. You walk closer to him, dress still in hand.

“What do you want? Weren’t you just rushing me?” you say in an irritated tone.

“Yeah, but I can’t miss this chance to watch you.”

“Watch me what? Get dressed?”

“Exactly.”

“Perv,” you smile, responding.

Hollis is one of those boyfriends who worships the ground you walk on. Music is his obsession, but you were his necessity. It’s why you never care about everything he lacks because he always makes up for it everywhere else.

The posture he has on the bed is different from earlier. Now he’s leaning back on his elbows, legs spread apart. The energy in the room shifts as you see his desire start to grow with the way he adjusts his hips and his stare. He smiles, revealing the gold grills you got him for his birthday.

“Show me something, please, baby,” he begged.

You play with the strings of your robe, slowly teasing as you pull it open to reveal your body underneath. He can’t help himself seeing you like this, admiring as he palms himself through his jeans, all his attention devoted to you.

Your robe drapes over your shoulders, exposing your entire front.

The rollers are still setting in your hair, making the moment feel strangely domestic.

You rubbed your hands down your body, and Hollis let out a strained moan.

“Fuck this, baby. Just come here.”

You make your way to him, dress still in hand, his arms starting to extend out toward you, ready to pull you into his trap.

You stop right before you reach him, pick your dress off the hanger, place it at your feet, and step into it.

Hollis lets out a painful whimper, realizing you were only teasing him, and falls back onto the bed.

“What? I thought you wanted me to hurry up.”

He pulls himself back up. “Yeah, but now I want you to slow down.”

You laugh. “That’s what you get for rushing me. Now hurry up and zip me so I can finish getting ready.”

You hear him pull all his theatrics before getting up and meeting you in the middle of the room. He runs his hand down your back, his touch cold. He reaches the zipper at the end of your dress and slowly pulls it up.

The dress exposing most of your back, Hollis leaves a kiss trail up your neck. Making you moan slightly, signaling you don’t want him to stop.

He doesn’t.

He sucks against your neck, and you feel needy for more of his touch. He smiles, the gold in his teeth cold against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. His tongue makes circles against your skin, hitting that sweet spot. You pull him closer from behind and moan his name.

He steps away.

Payback.

Hollis pointed at his watch, grinning and walking backwards out of the room. “Y/N, we have to hurry. Remember my big dinner?”

You looked at him with daggers before you both burst into laughter.

******

Hollis sits in the living room waiting for you. You come out fully ready, and Hollis’ reaction is nothing less than what you expected. The endless praise and all the ooo’s and aww’s he could give. 

 He goes in closer to kiss you, but you place a finger on his lips, telling him not to ruin your lip. He leans in and gives you the slightest peck before leading you out to the parking garage.

He puts his hand out, signaling for your car keys. Your car isn’t the fanciest, but it gets you from place to place and runs... unlike somebody else you know. 

Hollis opens the passenger door for you and gets in the driver's seat. You guys have an unspoken rule: if you go somewhere together, he drives.

He pulled into a gas station near the restaurant, seeing your low on gas.

“Babe, can I get your card for the gas?”

He pumped, you paid. 

You felt annoyed but rationalized it to yourself: "It’s my car anyway." "Who cares if he drives it all the time?"

 He parked down the street in front of a dollar store, neither of you willing to drop $50 on valet.

Inside the restaurant, the atmosphere was different. Hollis kept his sunglasses on, his posture tall and commanding. 

The hostess led you to a table. The executive is an older man, an old family friend of Hollis, it seems. He and Hollis discuss Interscope Records and how they suit him best. Things like they would never want him to switch up his sound. Giving him full creative rein. 

 You are not too engaged in the conversation. The label exec says you can order whatever you like, so you start with wine. 

The whole bottle.

You look at Hollis, how serious he is, how he takes in every word. The conversation surrounds numbers, projections, “vision” words that should feel boring. But they don’t. Not when it’s him. Not when he’s leaning forward slightly, elbows resting on the table, sleeves rolled up, and speaking with a certainty you’ve never seen before.

Every word feels intentional. You take a sip of your wine, eyes flicking between the two men but mostly staying on Hollis. You can’t stop watching this version of him. And it turns you on. It is like a glimpse of the man he could become.

“I know it cost you a pretty penny to keep a girl like her up,” the label exec says.

You smile, locking back into the conversation. Holding in a laugh at the irony. Hollis smiles and looks at you, grabbing your chin and admiring you for a second. “It sure does.”

“Well, to make sure you don’t lose your pretty little girlfriend, we are starting you off with a $1 million advance. Depending on how well your debut single does, we may be able to increase that.”

Hollis leans back slightly in his chair.

Relaxed.

Too relaxed.

A small smirk plays at his lips.

“This advance is incredibly generous of you guys. With all due respect….”

Your stomach tightens.

Not from nerves.

From something else.

The confidence in his tone sends a slow heat through your body.

His voice is different from when it is just the two of you.  Now he sounds sure, controlled, stern.

He moves his hand to rest on the bottom of your dress.

You shift in your seat, pressing your thighs together for a second before forcing yourself to relax.

Focus.

Act normal.

But it’s getting harder.

Because now his hand is resting on your inner thigh.

Light at first.

Barely there.

Like he’s not even thinking about it.

He continues:

“But at the rate I’m going, none of your newer upcoming artists’ numbers are touching mine. I think if I put out a debut single, it alone could make back the million-dollar advance. The numbers are only going up and fast.”

There it is.

That edge.

That ego.

And it makes you want him more.

Hollis’ hand moves under your dress.

Your lack of underwear is evident as his hand easily cups your damp pussy.

His actions surprise you, as if he can read your mind about how badly you want him.

You take another sip of wine, trying to hide your face.

You look at Hollis.

He winks and turns back to the music exec.

The music exec lets out a chuckle.

“Hollis, I agree. The advance for an artist like you should be bigger. This is a risky deal because that advance means you have to make it back and within a year of the contract.” 

Hollis makes slow circles on your clit.

Slow.

Unrushed.

Like he has all the time in the world.

Like, this isn’t the most important meeting of his life.

Like you are just as important.

“I know what it means, and trust me, I can do it.”

You lift your glass again, taking another sip to hide the way your lips part slightly. Your body reacts before you can stop it. The confidence. The control. The way he’s handling business while touching you like this. It’s overwhelming.

“Three million,” the executive says finally.

Your breath catches. The second it leaves his mouth, Hollis’s grip tightens slightly. You feel it everywhere. You let out an audible “fuck.”

Hollis looks at the exec, then at you, but he never stops. The exec laughs. “I know it’s a lot of money, darling. Don’t be startled.”

Hollis looks at him and says, “We have a deal.” He shakes the exec’s hand.

“Hollis, you will get $10k today, and the rest comes after the release of your single. Son, you better make me music worth $3 million.” He places a wad of cash on the table. 

Hollis replies, “ I’ll make you more.” 

The exec leaves. Hollis grabs the wad of cash and puts it in his suit jacket, leaving two hundred-dollar bills on the table. 

Grabbing your hand and rushing you outside. 

Outside, Hollis starts screaming. He scoops you off the ground.

“We fucking did it, baby!”

As Hollis walks you back to your car, arms interlocked, you walk into the parking lot of the dollar store. The buzz from all the wine is catching up to you as you walk jaggedly, thinking about how much you love your life.

I love my hot boyfriend. 

I love my soon-to-be rich boyfriend.

 I love my hot and soon-to-be-rich boyfriend.

Hollis gets you to the car and opens the backseat door. You look at him, confused. He says, “You thought I was done with you, princess?”

Your cheeks heat up at the name. Hollis wasn’t the type to tease you and not let you finish. It was the thing he loved the most. You get in the back seat, and Hollis follows.

“Three million dollars!” you breathe.

“Three million fucking dollars.”

He pulls you closer, kissing you. The kiss is soft and gentle, his tongue rolling smoothly over yours. He pulls you over his lap, deepening the kiss. He pulls away, eyes locked to yours with such admiration it makes your heart jump.

“Y/N, while we were in the restaurant closing the biggest deal of my life, all I could think about was you. I couldn’t stop thinking about tasting you... Or how good you would look over my face in this gold dress. It was driving me crazy. I need you so bad. Please let me taste you, baby.”

You do just that. You get up, allowing him to lean back across the seat, leaving you at the opposite end, looking up at him.

He says, “Don’t look at me like that.”

You make your way to Hollis’ face and hover your body above him.

He says, “You know I hate when you hover. Give me all of it, baby. I can handle it.”

You do what he asks, making contact with his mouth. It feels warm and wet. You start slowly rolling your hips, hesitantly wanting to spare him. 

But he grabs your hips and pushes you to move faster on his tongue. As the speed increases, so does the pleasure while he rocks your hips back and forth.

You can feel every time his grills make contact. The cool sensation travels through your body. Your moans bounce off the walls of the car. Hollis groans against you, taking everything you give him.

He lifts you slightly, letting you catch the breath you didn't realize you were holding, and moves you onto his lap again. He pulls his dick out and aligns you on top of it. As you lower yourself, he looks at you.

“I almost came just eating you out.”

He grabs your face as you roll onto him. You look at him, both of you caught in a wave of euphoria as the car windows start to fog up. As you ride, Hollis brings his gold grills up to your neck; the cold sensation shocks you, but you're quickly thrown back into the pleasure because you know he’s finishing what he started earlier.

Hollis whispers in your ear, “I want you to cum for me. Show me how you gonna cum for a millionare.” He pulls you closer as you ride him even harder. His words challenging you. “Yes, just like that. Let it out for me, baby. ”

You feel yourself spill all over him. You keep riding past your orgasm, and the friction pushes Hollis to his own finish inside you. Hollis pulls you to his lips for a sloppy, passionate kiss. Losinf yourself in the kiss, the intensity of it taking over everything. You pull away, resting your forehead against his. 

“You just gave me a 3-million dollar song idea, pretty girl.”

An: MILLIONARE DICK! Did we notice the gold theme orrrrrrrr…..

Taglist <3

downbad!rommulas x drugaddict!reader story information: y/n has always been spontaneous and careless. she met ryan a few years ago when she visited LA and she created an album cover for him. they stayed in touch when she went back to New York and she became a little sister to him. y/n got into drugs at 16 - it started with weed, then she slowly started picking up stronger substances until she found her true love 'xanny'. cw: drug usage, mentions of depression, careless behaviour, suggestive/sexual content, bpd, this story is not promotion of drug usage - don't do drugs. masterlist taglist

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masterlist

tw 4 entrie series: obsessed!nettspend x model!reader, reader is unattached and uninterested, nett is golden retriever coded lowkey, weed mentions, hints to eating disorders, thats all for now!

read texts after the instagram post!

nettalife uploaded a post!

nettalife: nettspend is just 3 stop into his tour and has already been pictured with several women after shows!

comments!

nettfan: bro gets unlimited play

nettfan2: 3 stops in and alr with 3 different women

random: who the hell is nettspend

nettswag: that should be me

randoo: he isn’t even cute

ilovenett: why is he with his ex bro stand up😭😭

xaviersobased: my boi

loridabun: i dont even go here

random2: yall acting like he’s not single and can do what he wants

random3: nobody cares + who coming to the seattle show

comments limited

taglist!

brothersbsf!2hollis x lilsib!reader story information: Nates little sister, y/n, lives an hour away from her brother in LA for university. Y/n always got along with Nates friends growing up, but especially had a close friendship with Hollis. A year ago, Hollis kissed y/n on her birthday which led to them hooking up for a few months. They never put a label on their relationship but that didn't take away the overwhelming love they had for each other. Everything was going great with them until Nate caught Hollis in y/n's bed. After that everything went to shit. Nate didn't talk to Hollis for 2 months and casted out y/n until the two agreed to not see each other anymore. Now, a year later - y/n is going to stay with Nate while she's on break, what's going to happen when she's around Hollis again? cw: suggestive talk, sexual interactions mentions, hollis & y/n being two peas in a pod/the biggest trolls, crazy older brother nate, chill middle sister chessa (ik she's older shhh) written smut masterlist taglist

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· · ────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ────── · ·

misunderstood!2hollis x sweetheart!reader story information: Y/n — the famous influencer known to be the internet’s sweetheart — meets the rising rockstar "2hollis" at an event and despite their opposite personalities — they grow close, forming a bond and discovering each others true selves. cw: mentions of reader having a ed, hospitalization, heavy drinking masterlist taglist

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TWO MONTHS LATER

2HOLLIS POSTED!

Liked by yourusername, rommulas, nate_sib, and 360K others

Happy birthday to the sweetest girl ever, these last few months have been the best ones of my life, you deserve the world and more sweetheart. To the love of my life, i love you y/n

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YOURUSERNAME POSTED!

Liked by 2hollis, delilahluv, rommulas, and 1.2M others

Happy birthday to me! I'm so excited to spend this year with all my friends and family and to continue making content for you all <3 but i wouldn't be in the place i am right now without you hollis, you changed my life for the better, i love you so much!!

comments have been disabled.

THE END.

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Taglist! @holilove @mimiandpeepee @headfirstforhalossss @gr33n-sp0re-v4lly @jjscoquette @glitterandviolence13 @lilaacmoon @sweet2sin @tellmeimgreat @obscureleoasian @voidatelier @yallnotogso @romansbbg @angelverse222 @zombiegirl777 @femsuicides @defnedlcr @crystalchaos222 @nnealmorales @sh3lov3dyou @myliifeisamess @iluvmollysantana @theyluvcece00 @sw44gl0rd @concealismybias @2005irlfawn @fawnyboibeauty @2nessa @pureheartedangelgirl @222cellmate @notblockingnobody @glitterslushi @ratspo3 @natesibsdih @sacrfcialambbb @qiyokuliife @sophi-ii @missmodelsexx @2bun22 @unicornfairysparkle69 @honeyperched @2romllis @2lilaclace @2krush22 @sippingonsin @envious3 @aeshiue @lattetwirll @kingoveverything @carnivalllz @whitetiger2crush2 @radxdgal @chxseatl @angelbbyunicorn @bunnyearmuffs888 @sayim-pretty @luvvconceal @maracops @sparklejumperope88