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The Vampire

Who Prayed For Me

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧

The city never truly slept.

It only changed masks.

Neon washed over rain-slick streets in shifting colors—pink bleeding into blue, blue dissolving into red—like the sky itself couldn’t decide what it was supposed to be anymore. Music thumped through walls that had seen too much, too often. People laughed too loudly in places that never forgot their secrets.

And somewhere beneath all of it…

things that shouldn’t exist kept walking like they belonged.

⸻

You were one of the things that shouldn’t exist.

Just not in the way they were.

⸻

Your wings were hidden, folded into something deeper than skin and bone—sealed beneath a divine concealment woven centuries ago. No glow. No halo. No celestial presence spilling into the world.

Just you.

Just human enough to pass.

Just angel enough to be a problem.

⸻

You had been sent here to observe.

That was always the word they used.

Observe.

As if watching didn’t eventually turn into noticing.

And noticing didn’t eventually turn into something else.

⸻

The underground club felt like a heartbeat you couldn’t escape.

Bass pulsed through the floor, up your legs, into your ribs—like the building itself was alive and breathing too fast. Lights swept across bodies moving too close together, faces blurred in motion, voices lost in the roar.

It should’ve all looked chaotic.

To anyone else.

But you weren’t looking at the chaos.

You were looking through it.

⸻

Vampires didn’t always announce themselves.

Some didn’t need to.

You could feel them the way you felt pressure changes before storms—subtle shifts in atmosphere, in awareness, in the way certain corners of the room seemed too still.

Too controlled.

Too aware.

⸻

And then there was him.

Above everything.

Second-floor balcony.

Leaning like he had nowhere else to be, like the entire place had been built around the idea that he might show up eventually. Platinum blonde curls falling into his eyes. Silver catching light he didn’t seem interested in acknowledging.

He wasn’t doing anything that should’ve made him stand out.

Which was exactly why he did.

⸻

You shouldn’t have looked at him twice.

That was your first mistake.

⸻

Because the moment your gaze brushed his—

he looked back.

Not casually.

Not accidentally.

Like he had been waiting for it.

Like he already knew what direction it would come from.

⸻

For a second, everything stuttered.

Not the music.

Not the crowd.

Just you.

That strange pause in your awareness where instinct whispered something your training immediately tried to silence.

⸻

Then his eyes narrowed slightly.

Just enough to make you question whether you had imagined it.

Like he was checking something.

Confirming something.

Rejecting something.

All at once.

⸻

And then—

he disappeared from the balcony.

No dramatic motion.

No visible descent.

Just absence.

Like he had never been there at all.

⸻

“You shouldn’t be here.”

The voice came from behind you.

So close it almost wasn’t sound.

More like thought spoken too clearly.

⸻

You turned.

Slowly.

Carefully.

And there he was.

⸻

Not above you anymore.

Not distant.

Just there, standing in a space that hadn’t felt occupied a second ago.

Like he had stepped out of a place the world wasn’t paying attention to.

⸻

He studied you like you were something halfway understood.

Not fully recognized.

Not fully dismissed.

Something in between.

Something unfinished.

⸻

“You smell…” he said at last, tilting his head slightly, “…wrong.”

There was no insult in it.

No aggression.

Just observation.

Like he was naming a pattern that didn’t match anything in his memory.

⸻

You held his gaze anyway.

“I think you’re mistaken.”

A faint pause.

Then—

a small shift at the corner of his mouth.

Not quite a smile.

Not quite anything safe.

“I don’t mistake things,” he said softly. “I just don’t always know what I’m looking at.”

⸻

The space between you felt thinner than it should’ve.

Not tense.

Not calm.

Something more irritating than both.

Unfinished.

⸻

“You hiding something?” he asked.

The question landed too easily.

Like he already knew the answer didn’t matter.

Like he was asking just to hear how you’d lie.

⸻

You met his eyes.

“Are you?”

That earned you a real reaction.

Barely.

But enough.

A flicker of amusement that didn’t belong in a conversation like this.

⸻

“Maybe,” he said.

A pause.

Then, quieter—

“Or maybe I’m just curious.”

⸻

And for some reason, that felt more dangerous than anything else he could’ve said.

Because curiosity didn’t stay distant forever.

Not in a city like this.

Not with things like you.

Not with things like him.

⸻

Somewhere in the club, something screamed.

But neither of you turned immediately.

Not right away.

Because for half a second too long—

it felt like the real danger wasn’t in the crowd.

It was standing right in front of you.

Watching.

Waiting.

Like the story had already started—

and neither of you had agreed to

be careful about it.

A/n: a little shy about dropping this..Bye this is just a little teaser for now🤫

Perm taglist

Comment to be added for the official chapter drop

The Vampire

Who Prayed For Me

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧

The city never truly slept.

It only changed masks.

Neon washed over rain-slick streets in shifting colors—pink bleeding into blue, blue dissolving into red—like the sky itself couldn’t decide what it was supposed to be anymore. Music thumped through walls that had seen too much, too often. People laughed too loudly in places that never forgot their secrets.

And somewhere beneath all of it…

things that shouldn’t exist kept walking like they belonged.

⸻

You were one of the things that shouldn’t exist.

Just not in the way they were.

⸻

Your wings were hidden, folded into something deeper than skin and bone—sealed beneath a divine concealment woven centuries ago. No glow. No halo. No celestial presence spilling into the world.

Just you.

Just human enough to pass.

Just angel enough to be a problem.

⸻

You had been sent here to observe.

That was always the word they used.

Observe.

As if watching didn’t eventually turn into noticing.

And noticing didn’t eventually turn into something else.

⸻

The underground club felt like a heartbeat you couldn’t escape.

Bass pulsed through the floor, up your legs, into your ribs—like the building itself was alive and breathing too fast. Lights swept across bodies moving too close together, faces blurred in motion, voices lost in the roar.

It should’ve all looked chaotic.

To anyone else.

But you weren’t looking at the chaos.

You were looking through it.

⸻

Vampires didn’t always announce themselves.

Some didn’t need to.

You could feel them the way you felt pressure changes before storms—subtle shifts in atmosphere, in awareness, in the way certain corners of the room seemed too still.

Too controlled.

Too aware.

⸻

And then there was him.

Above everything.

Second-floor balcony.

Leaning like he had nowhere else to be, like the entire place had been built around the idea that he might show up eventually. Platinum blonde curls falling into his eyes. Silver catching light he didn’t seem interested in acknowledging.

He wasn’t doing anything that should’ve made him stand out.

Which was exactly why he did.

⸻

You shouldn’t have looked at him twice.

That was your first mistake.

⸻

Because the moment your gaze brushed his—

he looked back.

Not casually.

Not accidentally.

Like he had been waiting for it.

Like he already knew what direction it would come from.

⸻

For a second, everything stuttered.

Not the music.

Not the crowd.

Just you.

That strange pause in your awareness where instinct whispered something your training immediately tried to silence.

⸻

Then his eyes narrowed slightly.

Just enough to make you question whether you had imagined it.

Like he was checking something.

Confirming something.

Rejecting something.

All at once.

⸻

And then—

he disappeared from the balcony.

No dramatic motion.

No visible descent.

Just absence.

Like he had never been there at all.

⸻

“You shouldn’t be here.”

The voice came from behind you.

So close it almost wasn’t sound.

More like thought spoken too clearly.

⸻

You turned.

Slowly.

Carefully.

And there he was.

⸻

Not above you anymore.

Not distant.

Just there, standing in a space that hadn’t felt occupied a second ago.

Like he had stepped out of a place the world wasn’t paying attention to.

⸻

He studied you like you were something halfway understood.

Not fully recognized.

Not fully dismissed.

Something in between.

Something unfinished.

⸻

“You smell…” he said at last, tilting his head slightly, “…wrong.”

There was no insult in it.

No aggression.

Just observation.

Like he was naming a pattern that didn’t match anything in his memory.

⸻

You held his gaze anyway.

“I think you’re mistaken.”

A faint pause.

Then—

a small shift at the corner of his mouth.

Not quite a smile.

Not quite anything safe.

“I don’t mistake things,” he said softly. “I just don’t always know what I’m looking at.”

⸻

The space between you felt thinner than it should’ve.

Not tense.

Not calm.

Something more irritating than both.

Unfinished.

⸻

“You hiding something?” he asked.

The question landed too easily.

Like he already knew the answer didn’t matter.

Like he was asking just to hear how you’d lie.

⸻

You met his eyes.

“Are you?”

That earned you a real reaction.

Barely.

But enough.

A flicker of amusement that didn’t belong in a conversation like this.

⸻

“Maybe,” he said.

A pause.

Then, quieter—

“Or maybe I’m just curious.”

⸻

And for some reason, that felt more dangerous than anything else he could’ve said.

Because curiosity didn’t stay distant forever.

Not in a city like this.

Not with things like you.

Not with things like him.

⸻

Somewhere in the club, something screamed.

But neither of you turned immediately.

Not right away.

Because for half a second too long—

it felt like the real danger wasn’t in the crowd.

It was standing right in front of you.

Watching.

Waiting.

Like the story had already started—

and neither of you had agreed to

be careful about it.

A/n: a little shy about dropping this..Bye this is just a little teaser for now🤫

Perm taglist

Comment to be added for the official chapter drop

The Vampire

Who Prayed For Me

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧

The city never truly slept.

It only changed masks.

Neon washed over rain-slick streets in shifting colors—pink bleeding into blue, blue dissolving into red—like the sky itself couldn’t decide what it was supposed to be anymore. Music thumped through walls that had seen too much, too often. People laughed too loudly in places that never forgot their secrets.

And somewhere beneath all of it…

things that shouldn’t exist kept walking like they belonged.

⸻

You were one of the things that shouldn’t exist.

Just not in the way they were.

⸻

Your wings were hidden, folded into something deeper than skin and bone—sealed beneath a divine concealment woven centuries ago. No glow. No halo. No celestial presence spilling into the world.

Just you.

Just human enough to pass.

Just angel enough to be a problem.

⸻

You had been sent here to observe.

That was always the word they used.

Observe.

As if watching didn’t eventually turn into noticing.

And noticing didn’t eventually turn into something else.

⸻

The underground club felt like a heartbeat you couldn’t escape.

Bass pulsed through the floor, up your legs, into your ribs—like the building itself was alive and breathing too fast. Lights swept across bodies moving too close together, faces blurred in motion, voices lost in the roar.

It should’ve all looked chaotic.

To anyone else.

But you weren’t looking at the chaos.

You were looking through it.

⸻

Vampires didn’t always announce themselves.

Some didn’t need to.

You could feel them the way you felt pressure changes before storms—subtle shifts in atmosphere, in awareness, in the way certain corners of the room seemed too still.

Too controlled.

Too aware.

⸻

And then there was him.

Above everything.

Second-floor balcony.

Leaning like he had nowhere else to be, like the entire place had been built around the idea that he might show up eventually. Platinum blonde curls falling into his eyes. Silver catching light he didn’t seem interested in acknowledging.

He wasn’t doing anything that should’ve made him stand out.

Which was exactly why he did.

⸻

You shouldn’t have looked at him twice.

That was your first mistake.

⸻

Because the moment your gaze brushed his—

he looked back.

Not casually.

Not accidentally.

Like he had been waiting for it.

Like he already knew what direction it would come from.

⸻

For a second, everything stuttered.

Not the music.

Not the crowd.

Just you.

That strange pause in your awareness where instinct whispered something your training immediately tried to silence.

⸻

Then his eyes narrowed slightly.

Just enough to make you question whether you had imagined it.

Like he was checking something.

Confirming something.

Rejecting something.

All at once.

⸻

And then—

he disappeared from the balcony.

No dramatic motion.

No visible descent.

Just absence.

Like he had never been there at all.

⸻

“You shouldn’t be here.”

The voice came from behind you.

So close it almost wasn’t sound.

More like thought spoken too clearly.

⸻

You turned.

Slowly.

Carefully.

And there he was.

⸻

Not above you anymore.

Not distant.

Just there, standing in a space that hadn’t felt occupied a second ago.

Like he had stepped out of a place the world wasn’t paying attention to.

⸻

He studied you like you were something halfway understood.

Not fully recognized.

Not fully dismissed.

Something in between.

Something unfinished.

⸻

“You smell…” he said at last, tilting his head slightly, “…wrong.”

There was no insult in it.

No aggression.

Just observation.

Like he was naming a pattern that didn’t match anything in his memory.

⸻

You held his gaze anyway.

“I think you’re mistaken.”

A faint pause.

Then—

a small shift at the corner of his mouth.

Not quite a smile.

Not quite anything safe.

“I don’t mistake things,” he said softly. “I just don’t always know what I’m looking at.”

⸻

The space between you felt thinner than it should’ve.

Not tense.

Not calm.

Something more irritating than both.

Unfinished.

⸻

“You hiding something?” he asked.

The question landed too easily.

Like he already knew the answer didn’t matter.

Like he was asking just to hear how you’d lie.

⸻

You met his eyes.

“Are you?”

That earned you a real reaction.

Barely.

But enough.

A flicker of amusement that didn’t belong in a conversation like this.

⸻

“Maybe,” he said.

A pause.

Then, quieter—

“Or maybe I’m just curious.”

⸻

And for some reason, that felt more dangerous than anything else he could’ve said.

Because curiosity didn’t stay distant forever.

Not in a city like this.

Not with things like you.

Not with things like him.

⸻

Somewhere in the club, something screamed.

But neither of you turned immediately.

Not right away.

Because for half a second too long—

it felt like the real danger wasn’t in the crowd.

It was standing right in front of you.

Watching.

Waiting.

Like the story had already started—

and neither of you had agreed to

be careful about it.

A/n: a little shy about dropping this..Bye this is just a little teaser for now🤫

Perm taglist

Comment to be added for the official chapter drop

The Vampire

Who Prayed For Me

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧

The city never truly slept.

It only changed masks.

Neon washed over rain-slick streets in shifting colors—pink bleeding into blue, blue dissolving into red—like the sky itself couldn’t decide what it was supposed to be anymore. Music thumped through walls that had seen too much, too often. People laughed too loudly in places that never forgot their secrets.

And somewhere beneath all of it…

things that shouldn’t exist kept walking like they belonged.

⸻

You were one of the things that shouldn’t exist.

Just not in the way they were.

⸻

Your wings were hidden, folded into something deeper than skin and bone—sealed beneath a divine concealment woven centuries ago. No glow. No halo. No celestial presence spilling into the world.

Just you.

Just human enough to pass.

Just angel enough to be a problem.

⸻

You had been sent here to observe.

That was always the word they used.

Observe.

As if watching didn’t eventually turn into noticing.

And noticing didn’t eventually turn into something else.

⸻

The underground club felt like a heartbeat you couldn’t escape.

Bass pulsed through the floor, up your legs, into your ribs—like the building itself was alive and breathing too fast. Lights swept across bodies moving too close together, faces blurred in motion, voices lost in the roar.

It should’ve all looked chaotic.

To anyone else.

But you weren’t looking at the chaos.

You were looking through it.

⸻

Vampires didn’t always announce themselves.

Some didn’t need to.

You could feel them the way you felt pressure changes before storms—subtle shifts in atmosphere, in awareness, in the way certain corners of the room seemed too still.

Too controlled.

Too aware.

⸻

And then there was him.

Above everything.

Second-floor balcony.

Leaning like he had nowhere else to be, like the entire place had been built around the idea that he might show up eventually. Platinum blonde curls falling into his eyes. Silver catching light he didn’t seem interested in acknowledging.

He wasn’t doing anything that should’ve made him stand out.

Which was exactly why he did.

⸻

You shouldn’t have looked at him twice.

That was your first mistake.

⸻

Because the moment your gaze brushed his—

he looked back.

Not casually.

Not accidentally.

Like he had been waiting for it.

Like he already knew what direction it would come from.

⸻

For a second, everything stuttered.

Not the music.

Not the crowd.

Just you.

That strange pause in your awareness where instinct whispered something your training immediately tried to silence.

⸻

Then his eyes narrowed slightly.

Just enough to make you question whether you had imagined it.

Like he was checking something.

Confirming something.

Rejecting something.

All at once.

⸻

And then—

he disappeared from the balcony.

No dramatic motion.

No visible descent.

Just absence.

Like he had never been there at all.

⸻

“You shouldn’t be here.”

The voice came from behind you.

So close it almost wasn’t sound.

More like thought spoken too clearly.

⸻

You turned.

Slowly.

Carefully.

And there he was.

⸻

Not above you anymore.

Not distant.

Just there, standing in a space that hadn’t felt occupied a second ago.

Like he had stepped out of a place the world wasn’t paying attention to.

⸻

He studied you like you were something halfway understood.

Not fully recognized.

Not fully dismissed.

Something in between.

Something unfinished.

⸻

“You smell…” he said at last, tilting his head slightly, “…wrong.”

There was no insult in it.

No aggression.

Just observation.

Like he was naming a pattern that didn’t match anything in his memory.

⸻

You held his gaze anyway.

“I think you’re mistaken.”

A faint pause.

Then—

a small shift at the corner of his mouth.

Not quite a smile.

Not quite anything safe.

“I don’t mistake things,” he said softly. “I just don’t always know what I’m looking at.”

⸻

The space between you felt thinner than it should’ve.

Not tense.

Not calm.

Something more irritating than both.

Unfinished.

⸻

“You hiding something?” he asked.

The question landed too easily.

Like he already knew the answer didn’t matter.

Like he was asking just to hear how you’d lie.

⸻

You met his eyes.

“Are you?”

That earned you a real reaction.

Barely.

But enough.

A flicker of amusement that didn’t belong in a conversation like this.

⸻

“Maybe,” he said.

A pause.

Then, quieter—

“Or maybe I’m just curious.”

⸻

And for some reason, that felt more dangerous than anything else he could’ve said.

Because curiosity didn’t stay distant forever.

Not in a city like this.

Not with things like you.

Not with things like him.

⸻

Somewhere in the club, something screamed.

But neither of you turned immediately.

Not right away.

Because for half a second too long—

it felt like the real danger wasn’t in the crowd.

It was standing right in front of you.

Watching.

Waiting.

Like the story had already started—

and neither of you had agreed to

be careful about it.

A/n: a little shy about dropping this..Bye this is just a little teaser for now🤫

Perm taglist

Comment to be added for the official chapter drop

2hollis x fem reader x rommulas

contains: slow burn, smut, oral (m & f receiving) (p in v) unprotected sex, threesome

a/n: for anoy that requested! (¯ ³¯)♡

you and Roman had always made sense.

no drama. no pressure. just heat and ease and a kind of comfort that felt like home even when you weren't sleeping together.

it wasn't a secret, either. everyone knew you and Roman would fall into bed for a few weeks, then stop just as easily, no weird tension, no mess. you'd go back to being friends who shared drinks and inside jokes.

and then without fail you'd hook up again eventually. always without a conversation. always with a grin and a shrug and a "why not?"

there was nothing dramatic about it. which was exactly why it worked.

you didn’t ask each other about other people. didn’t check phones or guard feelings. Roman could flirt with girls and you didn’t blink. you could press your body into his, a week later he’d kiss you like it had never stopped.

it was casual. familiar. convenient.

and Hollis hated every fucking second of it.

he’d seen it to many times.

you curled up beside Roman on the couch, legs stretched over his. your hand hand in his. Roman’s mouth on your neck at parties.

and all of it made Hollis’s skin crawl.

it wasn’t supposed to bother him.

he hadn’t even spoken to you not really, not for a long time. you’d never flirted. never touched him. never even looked at him for longer than a second.

but Hollis noticed you.

all the time.

in ways that surprised him.

he noticed your hair still wet from the water. when your laugh cracked mid sentence. when you wore Roman’s hoodies. he noticed the way you licked your bottom lip when you were concentrating, and the way your voice dropped when you whispered something only Ryan and Chessa was supposed to hear.

he noticed the shape of your thighs in cutoff shorts. the curve of your back when you bent to pick up a drink. the way your hips moved when you danced not for attention, not for anyone just because you liked the music.

and it made him insane.

he hated that Roman got to see you like that.

that should've been him. Hollis didn't even know what you sounded like when you came but Roman did. Roman fucking knew. he’d heard it, more than once. heard those pretty little gasps twist into something broken and breathless. heard the way your voice got caught on your moans when it was too much. heard his name on your lips, rough and high and soaked in heat.

that thought alone was enough to make Hollis’s jaw lock and his fists curl until his nails dug crescent moons into his palms.

it wasn’t even about Roman not really. not anymore.

Roman didn’t deserve you. he was a decent enough guy, loyal to fault, always fucking smiling like the world never touched him.

that was the problem.

the problem was Hollis deserved you more.

even if you didn’t know it.

even if you’d never looked at him that way not yet.

you were sweet. bright. always laughing, always soft in a way that made Hollis feel like he had something rotten in his chest just from watching you.

but God, he'd imagined it. every version.

you on your knees, lashes fluttering, mouth open and waiting. you pinned under him, flushed and trembling, whimpering as he dragged it out, slow and deep. you bent over something his bed, a counter, the fucking kitchen table with your ass in the air and your legs shaking while he held your hips in place, low and possessive.

he’d imagined the sound you'd make when he first slid into you. the way your jaw would fall open, breath catching in surprise.

the way your walls would squeeze around him, tight and perfect and so fucking wet.

you wouldn't sound the same with him. he was sure of that.

you’d sound ruined.

and yeah, maybe it was sick how often he thought about it. how many nights he'd gotten himself off to the image of you panting beneath him, body limp and messy, crying his name like you didn't even remember Roman’s.

Hollis didn't jerk off to porn anymore.

he jerked off to you.

to the little sliver of skin he saw when your shirt lifted getting out of the boat. to the way you laughed, all throat and smile and sunlight. to the sound of your voice when you were teasing Roman, playful and wicked.

to the look in your eyes when you were focused on something else oblivious, unguarded.

and sometimes most times he'd imagine you were already his.

he'd grip his cock tight in his fist, hiss between his teeth, and fuck into his hand thinking about how your body would feel.

he'd close his eyes and picture your mouth lips red and swollen, spit slick, cheeks flushed.

he'd imagine you whining for it, whispering please even when you didn't have to. wanting him. finally, fucking wanting him.

he’d spill all over his stomach with his jaw clenched and his eyes shut tight, panting, sweating, groaning your name into the dark like it could make you appear. like if he said it enough times, you'd hear it. you’d feel it.

but when it was over when the slick cum cooled on his skin and the air got heavy again he always felt worse.

because Roman still got to touch you.

Roman still got to kiss you in the open, in front of everyone, with his hands on your waist like it didn't even matter. like you belonged to him. like Hollis wasn't standing right there, watching, starving.

he wanted you so bad it made his teeth ache. made him reckless. made him dangerous.

and he was getting tired of pretending he didn't.

you had no idea. no fucking clue what you were doing to him.

but you'd learn.

you’d feel it, eventually.

his hands.

his mouth.

his name slipping past your lips in a voice you didn't recognize.

not Roman’s.

but he wasn't stupid.

you were loyal to Roman, you wouldn’t go behind his back and fuck his best friend. and he knew how that loyalty ran deeper than it should, stubborn and blinding. you'd never fall into his bed the way you did with Roman. you wouldn't take a drink from his hand or let him press you against the railing at a party.

you wouldn't trust him.

you didn't like him. that much was clear.

but you didn't quite hate him, either not really. even if part of you felt like you should.

he was everything you weren't supposed to be around,manipulative, unpredictable in a way that wasn't fun. the kind of guy you rolled your eyes at across a room. the kind of guy who never got your smile, never got more than a clipped reply or a quick glance before you turned away.

and yet... you didn't avoid him.

not entirely.

you watched him sometimes curious, wary. not soft, not open, but not closed off either. like you were trying to figure him out and never quite could.

Hollis noticed

he noticed everything.

so he had to be careful. strategic. he had to wait for the perfect moment.

and then... create it.

he started planning the party a week in advance. every detail mattered.

he told himself it was just a regular get together. nothing special. just enough of a buzz for word to get around. enough bodies to blend in. but really, it wasn't about the crowd.

it was about you.

he needed you there. needed to see you, needed a window any window. a sliver of an opportunity to get close, to watch you soften, laugh, drink. he knew how you moved at parties how you started off alert, shoulders a little tense, and then slowly unraveled as the night wore on, as Roman stayed close, as your guard slipped and your smile warmed.

and maybe, if he could catch you in the right mood tipsy, playful, unguarded he could slide in.

not force it. not demand it.

just suggest.

because even if you didn't like him and you didn't, not really there was still something in the way you glanced at him sometimes. guarded. dismissive. but not indifferent. like you were trying not to look twice.

he saw it once, weeks ago.

a flash of something in your expression when you thought he wasn't looking. when you watched him laugh with a girl whose name he couldn't remember, and your lips pressed into a flat, unreadable line.

just for a second. gone as quick as it came.

but he caught it.

so, the party.

the setup had to be right. alcohol everywhere. music loud enough to blur conversation but soft enough to hear your voice if he got close. lighting dim. upstairs unlocked.

he knew it was a risk. knew Roman might not let you out of his sight. knew you might not drink much, might stay close to the wall, might keep your arms around Romans neck the whole night like a warning sign.

he could handle that.

he'd wait. watch. find the weak point.

but nothing prepared him for the way his stomach dropped when he finally saw you again.

you were with Roman of course you were.

you always were.

you'd been at the party for a couple hours by then, weaving through the crowd together like you belonged to it. laughing. drinking. your hand in his. your body leaning toward his like it belonged there.

you were smiling, relaxed, barely noticing anyone else. your shirt clung to you in all the places Hollis had imagined touching.

your skin already glowed, cheeks warm from the heat and whatever you'd been sipping on since you showed up.

and Roman, Roman had the audacity to kiss you in the middle of the kitchen like it was nothing.

just leaned in and pressed his mouth to yours, casual and mindless, his palm sliding low on your back like he owned the right to be there. like your mouth was just his to take. like you weren't something sacred.

Hollis felt something sharp coil in his gut.

disgust.

you looked so soft, so fucking perfect, and yet you were wrapped around a guy who didn't even need you. who could touch you like it was easy. like it didn't mean everything. like he didn't lie awake imagining it.

Hollis did.

every time.

his hands clenched. he flexed his jaw once.

twice.

he kept his distance at first. watched you from the hallway. nursed a drink he didn't even taste. he told himself to wait. be smart. be calm.

but then, a little after midnight, he saw it.

you and Roman slipping down the hall laughing, stumbling just a little.

Romans hand on your hip, your fingers tangled in his shirt.

no one else seemed to notice.

Hollis did.

he followed.

quiet steps. familiar floorboards. he knew exactly where Roman would take you where he'd think you could be alone.

the door was cracked just enough.

when Hollis looked inside, he nearly saw red.

you were on your back, halfway on the bed, your shirt already gone and Roman’s sprawled on the floor. he was on top of you, bare chested, one hand cupping your jaw, the other sliding down your thigh. you were kissing him like you meant it open mouthed, messy, eyes shut. you were into it.

Hollis’s vision blurred for a second.

and then he opened the door.

deliberate. calm.

you both froze like someone had slammed the air out of the room.

Roman snapped up first, chest heaving, grabbing the edge of the mattress like he was about to lunge. "what the fuck Hollis, what are you doing here?"

you didn't say anything. you just stared wide eyed, breath caught, lips still parted.

Hollis didn't look at Roman. he looked at you.

"i live here," he said flatly, like it should've been obvious.

Romans eyes darkened. "get the fuck out."

Hollis took a step forward, slow, lazy. His hands stayed at his sides. his voice didn't change.

"i want in."

Roman blinked. "what?"

"i said..." Hollis dragged his gaze from your chest to your eyes, unflinching. "i want in. for her."

it was smooth. so smooth it barely registered as what it was. just a murmur.

just a suggestion.

Roman stood up fast, half dressed, fists clenched. "no. what the hell. get the fuck out of here."

but Hollis didn't move. he didn't raise his voice. didn’t flinch.

"i think..." he said slowly, eyes never leaving yours, "we should let her decide."

you swallowed hard.

Romans jaw tensed. "don’t listen to him. he’s just being a fucking creep."

but Hollis didn't even look at him.

he looked at you.

and he waited.

you sat up slowly, still breathless, skin flushed from Roman’s mouth, the sheets creased beneath your palms.

your first thought was no knee jerk, immediate. of course not. it was Hollis. the guy you didn't like, didn't trust. the one who looked at you like you were already his and made something in you twist when he did.

but you didn't say anything.

you looked at him, standing in front of you and Roman, his eyes unreadable, posture too relaxed for what he'd just walked in on. too casual. too composed.

and then, he said something you didn't expect.

something soft.

"i know you don't like me," he said. quiet.

even. almost... gentle. "but if you let me touch you... i swear i'll make you feel good."

Roman blinked, like he wasn't sure he heard right.

you looked at Hollis harder now, heart still racing, chest rising and falling. there was something off about the way he said it like he meant it. like he wasn't here to humiliate you, or push you, or use you to get under Roman’s skin. like he just... wanted you.

Roman looked from him to you, then back again.

his voice was lower when he said it this time. "it’s up to you."

you turned to him, brows slightly drawn.

"you’re... okay with this?"

he looked at you for a second, searching your face. "if it's what you want," he said, soft and sure.

"then yeah. i’m okay with it."

you stared at him.

then at Hollis.

and the silence stretched.

you didn't like Hollis. you didn't trust him.

he made your heart race sometimes, the way he watched you. too intense. too quiet. too much.

but... there was something else.

something in his eyes now that wasn't cruel or cocky. Something slower. hotter. it made your stomach flip.

you hated that it pulled at you.

but it did.

and you were already this far half naked, heart pounding, blood hot beneath your skin.

you looked at Roman.

he looked right back.

neither of you said a word. you didn't have to.

it was that look the one that had passed between you a hundred times before, in bedrooms and hangouts and tangled sheets.

the kind that asked 'you want to?' and answered 'fuck yeah’

you could feel Hollis watching in front of you, barely breathing. waiting.

and still, it was Roman’s eyes you held.

then just the faintest tug at the corner of his mouth. a smirk. not cocky. not teasing.

just... knowing.

you mirrored it.

and then you kissed him.

slow. confident. like you'd done it a thousand times and you had. but this time, it felt different. this time, someone else was watching.

you didn't look at Hollis. you didn't have to.

he took the cue without a word.

the bed dipped beside you.

then his mouth was at our neck hot, slow, needy. his breath fanned across your skin as his lips dragged along your pulse, and your body reacted before your brain could catch up. your shoulders pulled back, chest arching just slightly, breath stuttering against Roman’s.

your hand moved without thinking sliding to the back of his neck, nails grazing his skin. you felt the way he leaned into it, groaning low, like he'd been starving for that single touch.

Romans hand moved to your waist, grounding you, and his mouth deepened against yours.

and there you were between them.

one familiar. one forbidden.

both of them on you, for you.

Roman kissed you again slow, steadying his hand cupping the side of your face like he was reminding you it was okay to just feel. that you were safe. that you could give in.

Hollis’s mouth was still on your neck lips dragging soft and open, breath hot.

his hands moved like he'd studied you, like he already knew what you liked. fingertips grazing your thighs, your waist, the edge of your ribs. barely there but enough to make your breath hitch.

you felt yourself sinking into it into them.

but then Hollis's hand slid higher, his fingers brushing your jaw, tilting your face away from Roman’s.

your lips parted on instinct.

and then you were staring at him. close. breathless. caught.

his eyes burned dark and locked onto yours like this moment had been haunting him. like he couldn't believe it was real. he didn't speak. he didn't smile. he just looked at you.

and you smirked.

subtle. barely there. but enough for him to feel it. like you could sense exactly how wrecked he already was. like you liked it.

that's when he kissed you. hungry. deep. desperate but not rough.

his lips moved with purpose, mouth warm and full against yours, like he'd been waiting for this for months. because he had.

and now he was tasting you like it mattered.

like you weren't just a hookup. like you were something he'd been chasing in his head for too long to ever go slow now.

and when his tongue slid against yours, when his hand tightened on your thigh, you felt Roman’s breath brush your shoulder still there. still watching.

his mouth found your neck next.

the opposite side. cooler skin, untouched, still waiting for him. his kisses were slower, softer. familiar. he knew how to make you relax into it, even when your head was spinning.

and it was. spinning from how good this already felt. from the heat between their hands and mouths and how neither of them was rushing.

you reached for Hollis’s shirt, fingers curling in the fabric, tugging just enough to ask. he got the message right away.

he pulled it over his head in one smooth motion eager, but not frantic and dropped it somewhere behind him. his chest was toned, golden, and already flushed. then he was back on you, lips finding yours again like he couldn't stand the distance. his hand cupped your jaw as he kissed you, thumb brushing your cheek, while his other hand found the button on your jeans.

you didn't stop him. you didn't want to.

Roman’s hands moved down your sides, settling at the clasp of your bra. he undid it easily, fingers practiced, then slid the straps down your arms slow, steady. his lips never left your neck. he was close beside you on the edge of the bed, warm and familiar, and when the fabric fell away, he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder.

then gently he guided you back, laying you down onto the mattress with care.

you laid back, heart racing, chest bare and rising fast.

Hollis was still kissing you as Roman stepped away for a moment, and you watched out of the corner of your eye as he stripped jeans and boxers hitting the floor in one clean motion.

Hollis’s fingers slipped beneath the waistband of your jeans, and Roman moved to help, both of them peeling the rest of your clothes off like they'd done it together before. and then skin to skin you were fully exposed, laid out beneath both of them.

Roman climbed back over you, his eyes meeting yours with an intense, hungry gaze before he settled between your wide spread legs.

you felt the thick, throbbing weight of him rub through your slick folds hot, wet, and easy from how incredibly turned on you already were. he pushed inside you with a low, guttural groan, stretching you open, filling you completely, his length pulsing inside your tight, wet heat.

It was familiar, yet every time felt like the first deep, smooth, and utterly intoxicating. the feeling of him moving inside you, the way your body accommodated his size, was the perfect torture.

Hollis never stopped touching you. as Roman began to move slow, deliberate thrusts that hit every sensitive spot you felt Hollis’s lips trail down your body, kissing and nipping at your collarbone, down the slope of your breast, until his mouth closed around your nipple. he sucked gently but firmly, his tongue flicking and swirling, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core. you arched into it with a soft, desperate gasp, your body begging for more.

then you pulled him back up, your hand gripping his neck, crashing your mouth against his in a fierce, hungry kiss. you moaned into it into the kiss, into the rhythm of Roman inside you and Hollis swallowed it like it was the air he needed to breathe.

"is he making you feel good?" he asked against your lips, his voice low, raw, and wrecked with desire.

you nodded, your lips brushing his, your breath coming in short, desperate pants.

"mmm..."

you kept kissing him, harder now, your body rolling and grinding into every slow, deep thrust from Roman’s hips. but then you pulled back slowly, your chest heaving with exertion and arousal-and looked at Roman.

"wait..." you breathed, your voice hoarse with need. "go around."

Roman paused, brows raised, then carefully pulled out of you. you felt the absence of him immediately, already missing the stretch, the pressure but the look in your eyes told him you had something else in mind.

he understood. he always did.

Roman moved to the foot of the bed.

you turned to Hollis, chest still rising and falling fast, lips slightly parted. and then quietly, almost sweetly you leaned in and kissed him once more.

"do whatever you want."

his jaw clenched. his eyes went dark. but he didn't say a word.

you turned, shifting onto your knees at the edge of the bed, mouth already finding Roman’s length as he stepped in closer. you wrapped your hand around him, tongue trailing slowly up the underside before taking him into your mouth, wet and warm and eager.

and then you felt it.

movement behind you. the mattress shifting.

and then Hollis’s shoulders easing down, his back hitting the sheets.

you feel his hands slide up your thighs from below, spreading you open gently, holding you steady over him.

you thought he was going to fuck you thought you'd feel him push inside, hard and desperate.

but instead...

his mouth.

his tongue.

the first hot stroke of it made you jolt shoulders pulling back, a muffled gasp escaping around Roman’s cock.

you hadn't expected that. you hadn't expected him to do that.

but Hollis groaned against you, low and hungry, tongue working between your folds like he needed it like he'd dreamed of this.

his grip on your thighs tightened, keeping you still as he licked deeper, slower, more deliberate with every pass.

it wasn't rushed. it wasn't messy. it was worship.

and the shock of it the way he was putting you first, the way his mouth moved like it belonged there made your whole body burn.

you moaned around Roman, throat humming, hips rocking back into Hollis’s mouth before you even realized you were doing it.

Hollis was groaning now too, like the taste of you was everything. like this moment had been haunting him for months.

and God, it felt like it.

you were shaking, mouth swollen, breath shallow, Hollis’s tongue buried deep in your pussy when Roman came. his hands in your hair, chest rising hard as he spilled down your throat, across your lips and chin, soft groans falling from his mouth.

he kissed you when he came down from it.

gentle. familiar. thumb brushing your cheek, lips soft and slow against yours.

but you hadn't finished.

you were close so close but it just took longer. it always did.

and Hollis noticed.

“lay back," he murmured, voice low, thick with something dark and wrecked.

you blinked at him, dazed.

he sat up, guiding you gently, helping you onto your back, and then climbed over you his chest flushed, his eyes locked on yours like you were something sacred.

something he'd waited for, longed for, obsessed over.

you parted your legs, breath trembling, and he slid inside you in one deep, perfect thrust.

your back arched.

it was different. he felt different.

bigger. harder. deeper.

and he didn't move right away. he just stayed there, buried to the hilt, breathing against your cheek like he was savoring it.

then "God," he whispered, "you feel even better than i imagined."

he started to move slow and deep, then faster, harder, his hips snapping against yours with rhythm and purpose. every thrust was deliberate, like he was trying to learn you from the inside out.

you gasped, moaned, clutched the sheets.

and beside you... Roman stayed. quiet. steady.

his hand found yours on the bed and held it lightly. his other hand brushed the hair off your forehead, then slid down your shoulder, fingers skimming your skin like he couldn't help himself. his touch was soft, grounding, comforting no words, no pressure. just there.

and Hollis.

Hollis was fucking you like he couldn't stop.

"you wanna cum?" he whispers. "fuck, i wanna feel you cum on me."

you can't even speak. you just clench around him, answer written in your body.

his mouth finds your breasts again, his hips rolling deeper, harder, and you cry out, clutching Roman’s hand tighter as Hollis wrecks you from below.

"didn’t think you'd like it this much," he says, his voice wrecked. "did you?"

you didn't answer.

you couldn't.

because he was making sure you'd feel this for days. and Roman was right there, touching you softly, watching the way your body came apart.

and you couldn't even tell who you liked better.

you’re close.

so close it's painful heat curling low, thighs trembling, your body arching into Hollis’s every thrust. his pace is steady, strong, deeper than you thought you could take. how his hand slides down between your bodies, fingers finding your clit like he's been waiting for this moment like he knows how to push you over the edge.

he rubs it in tight, slow circles, and your whole body jolts.

your breath catches in your throat.

Romans still beside you, quiet, watching. his hand finds your cheek, tilts your face toward him, and then he kisses you.

soft, open, warm.

the contrast makes it worse or better. Hollis fucking you deep, hard, filthy. Roman kissing you gentle, steady, grounding.

it shatters you.

you cry out into Roman’s mouth, the orgasm ripping through you hard and fast. your body clenches, legs shaking, heat washing over you like a wave that doesn't break.

Hollis groans when he feels it your pussy squeezing around him, soaking him. his hand on your clit doesn't let up, rubbing you through it, dragging it out until you're twitching and gasping and grabbing for the sheets.

and that's all it takes.

he drives into you once twice then buries himself deep, hips stuttering as he cums hard inside you with a ragged breath. his body tenses over yours, muscles flexed, mouth open against your neck, spilling into you while you're still shaking beneath him.

he swears under his breath, low and wrecked, like he's been waiting to do this for months.

when you finally pull away from Roman, your lips are swollen, slick, breathless.

but you don't stop.

Hollis still over you, his chest pressed to yours, face buried in your neck, breath ragged against your skin.

you reach for him fingers sliding over the back of his head, playing with his hair and he lifts his head, eyes dark, lips parted.

you pull him down closer until your mouth finds his, crashing into him just as hard, just as hungry.

you kiss him like he's Roman. like he's always been yours. like you don't hate him at all.

and Hollis fucking melts.

his hand slides up your body over your waist, your ribs gripping tight like he still can't believe this is real. his mouth moves over yours again, slower this time, the hunger still there but softened, steadied.

you don't deepen the kiss. you just let it linger open, quiet, lips brushing until you both finally pull back, breathing the same air.

Hollis groans softly as he pulls out, slow and careful, and then lowers himself beside you on the bed, his chest rising and falling against your arm.

Roman moves next, slipping in on your other side without a word. he doesn't say anything just shifts close, fingers trailing lazily over your stomach.

Hollis’s hand finds your thigh, warm and steady. you feel their touches on either side of you gentle, grounding, like they're both still wrapped up in you.

and for a second, none of you say a word.

you and Roman lie there, breathless, bodies still tangled. your eyes meet, and in that quiet look, something passes between you a wordless agreement, a shared knowing that it's time.

slowly, deliberately, you start to move.

Romans fingers brush against yours, lingering just a moment longer as he helps you slide your jeans over your hips. his touch is gentle, steady familiar. you let him slide your shirt on, the silence between you easy, comfortable, unspoken.

Roman leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your temple, then murmurs, "you ready?"

you nod, eyes flicking briefly toward Hollis.

"yeah. let's go."

as you take Romans hand and start toward the door, Hollis’s voice cuts through the room low, casual.

"see you around."

Roman glances at him, confused. you pause for a heartbeat, just enough for your eyes to meet Hollis’s with a quick, knowing smirk.

Roman doesn't catch it.

you squeeze Roman’s hand and follow him out.

behind the closing door, Hollis leans back, a slow smile creeping onto his lips.

he knows.

comment to be added to taglist

2hollis x fem reader x rommulas

contains: slow burn, smut, oral (m & f receiving) (p in v) unprotected sex, threesome

a/n: for anoy that requested! (¯ ³¯)♡

you and Roman had always made sense.

no drama. no pressure. just heat and ease and a kind of comfort that felt like home even when you weren't sleeping together.

it wasn't a secret, either. everyone knew you and Roman would fall into bed for a few weeks, then stop just as easily, no weird tension, no mess. you'd go back to being friends who shared drinks and inside jokes.

and then without fail you'd hook up again eventually. always without a conversation. always with a grin and a shrug and a "why not?"

there was nothing dramatic about it. which was exactly why it worked.

you didn’t ask each other about other people. didn’t check phones or guard feelings. Roman could flirt with girls and you didn’t blink. you could press your body into his, a week later he’d kiss you like it had never stopped.

it was casual. familiar. convenient.

and Hollis hated every fucking second of it.

he’d seen it to many times.

you curled up beside Roman on the couch, legs stretched over his. your hand hand in his. Roman’s mouth on your neck at parties.

and all of it made Hollis’s skin crawl.

it wasn’t supposed to bother him.

he hadn’t even spoken to you not really, not for a long time. you’d never flirted. never touched him. never even looked at him for longer than a second.

but Hollis noticed you.

all the time.

in ways that surprised him.

he noticed your hair still wet from the water. when your laugh cracked mid sentence. when you wore Roman’s hoodies. he noticed the way you licked your bottom lip when you were concentrating, and the way your voice dropped when you whispered something only Ryan and Chessa was supposed to hear.

he noticed the shape of your thighs in cutoff shorts. the curve of your back when you bent to pick up a drink. the way your hips moved when you danced not for attention, not for anyone just because you liked the music.

and it made him insane.

he hated that Roman got to see you like that.

that should've been him. Hollis didn't even know what you sounded like when you came but Roman did. Roman fucking knew. he’d heard it, more than once. heard those pretty little gasps twist into something broken and breathless. heard the way your voice got caught on your moans when it was too much. heard his name on your lips, rough and high and soaked in heat.

that thought alone was enough to make Hollis’s jaw lock and his fists curl until his nails dug crescent moons into his palms.

it wasn’t even about Roman not really. not anymore.

Roman didn’t deserve you. he was a decent enough guy, loyal to fault, always fucking smiling like the world never touched him.

that was the problem.

the problem was Hollis deserved you more.

even if you didn’t know it.

even if you’d never looked at him that way not yet.

you were sweet. bright. always laughing, always soft in a way that made Hollis feel like he had something rotten in his chest just from watching you.

but God, he'd imagined it. every version.

you on your knees, lashes fluttering, mouth open and waiting. you pinned under him, flushed and trembling, whimpering as he dragged it out, slow and deep. you bent over something his bed, a counter, the fucking kitchen table with your ass in the air and your legs shaking while he held your hips in place, low and possessive.

he’d imagined the sound you'd make when he first slid into you. the way your jaw would fall open, breath catching in surprise.

the way your walls would squeeze around him, tight and perfect and so fucking wet.

you wouldn't sound the same with him. he was sure of that.

you’d sound ruined.

and yeah, maybe it was sick how often he thought about it. how many nights he'd gotten himself off to the image of you panting beneath him, body limp and messy, crying his name like you didn't even remember Roman’s.

Hollis didn't jerk off to porn anymore.

he jerked off to you.

to the little sliver of skin he saw when your shirt lifted getting out of the boat. to the way you laughed, all throat and smile and sunlight. to the sound of your voice when you were teasing Roman, playful and wicked.

to the look in your eyes when you were focused on something else oblivious, unguarded.

and sometimes most times he'd imagine you were already his.

he'd grip his cock tight in his fist, hiss between his teeth, and fuck into his hand thinking about how your body would feel.

he'd close his eyes and picture your mouth lips red and swollen, spit slick, cheeks flushed.

he'd imagine you whining for it, whispering please even when you didn't have to. wanting him. finally, fucking wanting him.

he’d spill all over his stomach with his jaw clenched and his eyes shut tight, panting, sweating, groaning your name into the dark like it could make you appear. like if he said it enough times, you'd hear it. you’d feel it.

but when it was over when the slick cum cooled on his skin and the air got heavy again he always felt worse.

because Roman still got to touch you.

Roman still got to kiss you in the open, in front of everyone, with his hands on your waist like it didn't even matter. like you belonged to him. like Hollis wasn't standing right there, watching, starving.

he wanted you so bad it made his teeth ache. made him reckless. made him dangerous.

and he was getting tired of pretending he didn't.

you had no idea. no fucking clue what you were doing to him.

but you'd learn.

you’d feel it, eventually.

his hands.

his mouth.

his name slipping past your lips in a voice you didn't recognize.

not Roman’s.

but he wasn't stupid.

you were loyal to Roman, you wouldn’t go behind his back and fuck his best friend. and he knew how that loyalty ran deeper than it should, stubborn and blinding. you'd never fall into his bed the way you did with Roman. you wouldn't take a drink from his hand or let him press you against the railing at a party.

you wouldn't trust him.

you didn't like him. that much was clear.

but you didn't quite hate him, either not really. even if part of you felt like you should.

he was everything you weren't supposed to be around,manipulative, unpredictable in a way that wasn't fun. the kind of guy you rolled your eyes at across a room. the kind of guy who never got your smile, never got more than a clipped reply or a quick glance before you turned away.

and yet... you didn't avoid him.

not entirely.

you watched him sometimes curious, wary. not soft, not open, but not closed off either. like you were trying to figure him out and never quite could.

Hollis noticed

he noticed everything.

so he had to be careful. strategic. he had to wait for the perfect moment.

and then... create it.

he started planning the party a week in advance. every detail mattered.

he told himself it was just a regular get together. nothing special. just enough of a buzz for word to get around. enough bodies to blend in. but really, it wasn't about the crowd.

it was about you.

he needed you there. needed to see you, needed a window any window. a sliver of an opportunity to get close, to watch you soften, laugh, drink. he knew how you moved at parties how you started off alert, shoulders a little tense, and then slowly unraveled as the night wore on, as Roman stayed close, as your guard slipped and your smile warmed.

and maybe, if he could catch you in the right mood tipsy, playful, unguarded he could slide in.

not force it. not demand it.

just suggest.

because even if you didn't like him and you didn't, not really there was still something in the way you glanced at him sometimes. guarded. dismissive. but not indifferent. like you were trying not to look twice.

he saw it once, weeks ago.

a flash of something in your expression when you thought he wasn't looking. when you watched him laugh with a girl whose name he couldn't remember, and your lips pressed into a flat, unreadable line.

just for a second. gone as quick as it came.

but he caught it.

so, the party.

the setup had to be right. alcohol everywhere. music loud enough to blur conversation but soft enough to hear your voice if he got close. lighting dim. upstairs unlocked.

he knew it was a risk. knew Roman might not let you out of his sight. knew you might not drink much, might stay close to the wall, might keep your arms around Romans neck the whole night like a warning sign.

he could handle that.

he'd wait. watch. find the weak point.

but nothing prepared him for the way his stomach dropped when he finally saw you again.

you were with Roman of course you were.

you always were.

you'd been at the party for a couple hours by then, weaving through the crowd together like you belonged to it. laughing. drinking. your hand in his. your body leaning toward his like it belonged there.

you were smiling, relaxed, barely noticing anyone else. your shirt clung to you in all the places Hollis had imagined touching.

your skin already glowed, cheeks warm from the heat and whatever you'd been sipping on since you showed up.

and Roman, Roman had the audacity to kiss you in the middle of the kitchen like it was nothing.

just leaned in and pressed his mouth to yours, casual and mindless, his palm sliding low on your back like he owned the right to be there. like your mouth was just his to take. like you weren't something sacred.

Hollis felt something sharp coil in his gut.

disgust.

you looked so soft, so fucking perfect, and yet you were wrapped around a guy who didn't even need you. who could touch you like it was easy. like it didn't mean everything. like he didn't lie awake imagining it.

Hollis did.

every time.

his hands clenched. he flexed his jaw once.

twice.

he kept his distance at first. watched you from the hallway. nursed a drink he didn't even taste. he told himself to wait. be smart. be calm.

but then, a little after midnight, he saw it.

you and Roman slipping down the hall laughing, stumbling just a little.

Romans hand on your hip, your fingers tangled in his shirt.

no one else seemed to notice.

Hollis did.

he followed.

quiet steps. familiar floorboards. he knew exactly where Roman would take you where he'd think you could be alone.

the door was cracked just enough.

when Hollis looked inside, he nearly saw red.

you were on your back, halfway on the bed, your shirt already gone and Roman’s sprawled on the floor. he was on top of you, bare chested, one hand cupping your jaw, the other sliding down your thigh. you were kissing him like you meant it open mouthed, messy, eyes shut. you were into it.

Hollis’s vision blurred for a second.

and then he opened the door.

deliberate. calm.

you both froze like someone had slammed the air out of the room.

Roman snapped up first, chest heaving, grabbing the edge of the mattress like he was about to lunge. "what the fuck Hollis, what are you doing here?"

you didn't say anything. you just stared wide eyed, breath caught, lips still parted.

Hollis didn't look at Roman. he looked at you.

"i live here," he said flatly, like it should've been obvious.

Romans eyes darkened. "get the fuck out."

Hollis took a step forward, slow, lazy. His hands stayed at his sides. his voice didn't change.

"i want in."

Roman blinked. "what?"

"i said..." Hollis dragged his gaze from your chest to your eyes, unflinching. "i want in. for her."

it was smooth. so smooth it barely registered as what it was. just a murmur.

just a suggestion.

Roman stood up fast, half dressed, fists clenched. "no. what the hell. get the fuck out of here."

but Hollis didn't move. he didn't raise his voice. didn’t flinch.

"i think..." he said slowly, eyes never leaving yours, "we should let her decide."

you swallowed hard.

Romans jaw tensed. "don’t listen to him. he’s just being a fucking creep."

but Hollis didn't even look at him.

he looked at you.

and he waited.

you sat up slowly, still breathless, skin flushed from Roman’s mouth, the sheets creased beneath your palms.

your first thought was no knee jerk, immediate. of course not. it was Hollis. the guy you didn't like, didn't trust. the one who looked at you like you were already his and made something in you twist when he did.

but you didn't say anything.

you looked at him, standing in front of you and Roman, his eyes unreadable, posture too relaxed for what he'd just walked in on. too casual. too composed.

and then, he said something you didn't expect.

something soft.

"i know you don't like me," he said. quiet.

even. almost... gentle. "but if you let me touch you... i swear i'll make you feel good."

Roman blinked, like he wasn't sure he heard right.

you looked at Hollis harder now, heart still racing, chest rising and falling. there was something off about the way he said it like he meant it. like he wasn't here to humiliate you, or push you, or use you to get under Roman’s skin. like he just... wanted you.

Roman looked from him to you, then back again.

his voice was lower when he said it this time. "it’s up to you."

you turned to him, brows slightly drawn.

"you’re... okay with this?"

he looked at you for a second, searching your face. "if it's what you want," he said, soft and sure.

"then yeah. i’m okay with it."

you stared at him.

then at Hollis.

and the silence stretched.

you didn't like Hollis. you didn't trust him.

he made your heart race sometimes, the way he watched you. too intense. too quiet. too much.

but... there was something else.

something in his eyes now that wasn't cruel or cocky. Something slower. hotter. it made your stomach flip.

you hated that it pulled at you.

but it did.

and you were already this far half naked, heart pounding, blood hot beneath your skin.

you looked at Roman.

he looked right back.

neither of you said a word. you didn't have to.

it was that look the one that had passed between you a hundred times before, in bedrooms and hangouts and tangled sheets.

the kind that asked 'you want to?' and answered 'fuck yeah’

you could feel Hollis watching in front of you, barely breathing. waiting.

and still, it was Roman’s eyes you held.

then just the faintest tug at the corner of his mouth. a smirk. not cocky. not teasing.

just... knowing.

you mirrored it.

and then you kissed him.

slow. confident. like you'd done it a thousand times and you had. but this time, it felt different. this time, someone else was watching.

you didn't look at Hollis. you didn't have to.

he took the cue without a word.

the bed dipped beside you.

then his mouth was at our neck hot, slow, needy. his breath fanned across your skin as his lips dragged along your pulse, and your body reacted before your brain could catch up. your shoulders pulled back, chest arching just slightly, breath stuttering against Roman’s.

your hand moved without thinking sliding to the back of his neck, nails grazing his skin. you felt the way he leaned into it, groaning low, like he'd been starving for that single touch.

Romans hand moved to your waist, grounding you, and his mouth deepened against yours.

and there you were between them.

one familiar. one forbidden.

both of them on you, for you.

Roman kissed you again slow, steadying his hand cupping the side of your face like he was reminding you it was okay to just feel. that you were safe. that you could give in.

Hollis’s mouth was still on your neck lips dragging soft and open, breath hot.

his hands moved like he'd studied you, like he already knew what you liked. fingertips grazing your thighs, your waist, the edge of your ribs. barely there but enough to make your breath hitch.

you felt yourself sinking into it into them.

but then Hollis's hand slid higher, his fingers brushing your jaw, tilting your face away from Roman’s.

your lips parted on instinct.

and then you were staring at him. close. breathless. caught.

his eyes burned dark and locked onto yours like this moment had been haunting him. like he couldn't believe it was real. he didn't speak. he didn't smile. he just looked at you.

and you smirked.

subtle. barely there. but enough for him to feel it. like you could sense exactly how wrecked he already was. like you liked it.

that's when he kissed you. hungry. deep. desperate but not rough.

his lips moved with purpose, mouth warm and full against yours, like he'd been waiting for this for months. because he had.

and now he was tasting you like it mattered.

like you weren't just a hookup. like you were something he'd been chasing in his head for too long to ever go slow now.

and when his tongue slid against yours, when his hand tightened on your thigh, you felt Roman’s breath brush your shoulder still there. still watching.

his mouth found your neck next.

the opposite side. cooler skin, untouched, still waiting for him. his kisses were slower, softer. familiar. he knew how to make you relax into it, even when your head was spinning.

and it was. spinning from how good this already felt. from the heat between their hands and mouths and how neither of them was rushing.

you reached for Hollis’s shirt, fingers curling in the fabric, tugging just enough to ask. he got the message right away.

he pulled it over his head in one smooth motion eager, but not frantic and dropped it somewhere behind him. his chest was toned, golden, and already flushed. then he was back on you, lips finding yours again like he couldn't stand the distance. his hand cupped your jaw as he kissed you, thumb brushing your cheek, while his other hand found the button on your jeans.

you didn't stop him. you didn't want to.

Roman’s hands moved down your sides, settling at the clasp of your bra. he undid it easily, fingers practiced, then slid the straps down your arms slow, steady. his lips never left your neck. he was close beside you on the edge of the bed, warm and familiar, and when the fabric fell away, he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder.

then gently he guided you back, laying you down onto the mattress with care.

you laid back, heart racing, chest bare and rising fast.

Hollis was still kissing you as Roman stepped away for a moment, and you watched out of the corner of your eye as he stripped jeans and boxers hitting the floor in one clean motion.

Hollis’s fingers slipped beneath the waistband of your jeans, and Roman moved to help, both of them peeling the rest of your clothes off like they'd done it together before. and then skin to skin you were fully exposed, laid out beneath both of them.

Roman climbed back over you, his eyes meeting yours with an intense, hungry gaze before he settled between your wide spread legs.

you felt the thick, throbbing weight of him rub through your slick folds hot, wet, and easy from how incredibly turned on you already were. he pushed inside you with a low, guttural groan, stretching you open, filling you completely, his length pulsing inside your tight, wet heat.

It was familiar, yet every time felt like the first deep, smooth, and utterly intoxicating. the feeling of him moving inside you, the way your body accommodated his size, was the perfect torture.

Hollis never stopped touching you. as Roman began to move slow, deliberate thrusts that hit every sensitive spot you felt Hollis’s lips trail down your body, kissing and nipping at your collarbone, down the slope of your breast, until his mouth closed around your nipple. he sucked gently but firmly, his tongue flicking and swirling, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core. you arched into it with a soft, desperate gasp, your body begging for more.

then you pulled him back up, your hand gripping his neck, crashing your mouth against his in a fierce, hungry kiss. you moaned into it into the kiss, into the rhythm of Roman inside you and Hollis swallowed it like it was the air he needed to breathe.

"is he making you feel good?" he asked against your lips, his voice low, raw, and wrecked with desire.

you nodded, your lips brushing his, your breath coming in short, desperate pants.

"mmm..."

you kept kissing him, harder now, your body rolling and grinding into every slow, deep thrust from Roman’s hips. but then you pulled back slowly, your chest heaving with exertion and arousal-and looked at Roman.

"wait..." you breathed, your voice hoarse with need. "go around."

Roman paused, brows raised, then carefully pulled out of you. you felt the absence of him immediately, already missing the stretch, the pressure but the look in your eyes told him you had something else in mind.

he understood. he always did.

Roman moved to the foot of the bed.

you turned to Hollis, chest still rising and falling fast, lips slightly parted. and then quietly, almost sweetly you leaned in and kissed him once more.

"do whatever you want."

his jaw clenched. his eyes went dark. but he didn't say a word.

you turned, shifting onto your knees at the edge of the bed, mouth already finding Roman’s length as he stepped in closer. you wrapped your hand around him, tongue trailing slowly up the underside before taking him into your mouth, wet and warm and eager.

and then you felt it.

movement behind you. the mattress shifting.

and then Hollis’s shoulders easing down, his back hitting the sheets.

you feel his hands slide up your thighs from below, spreading you open gently, holding you steady over him.

you thought he was going to fuck you thought you'd feel him push inside, hard and desperate.

but instead...

his mouth.

his tongue.

the first hot stroke of it made you jolt shoulders pulling back, a muffled gasp escaping around Roman’s cock.

you hadn't expected that. you hadn't expected him to do that.

but Hollis groaned against you, low and hungry, tongue working between your folds like he needed it like he'd dreamed of this.

his grip on your thighs tightened, keeping you still as he licked deeper, slower, more deliberate with every pass.

it wasn't rushed. it wasn't messy. it was worship.

and the shock of it the way he was putting you first, the way his mouth moved like it belonged there made your whole body burn.

you moaned around Roman, throat humming, hips rocking back into Hollis’s mouth before you even realized you were doing it.

Hollis was groaning now too, like the taste of you was everything. like this moment had been haunting him for months.

and God, it felt like it.

you were shaking, mouth swollen, breath shallow, Hollis’s tongue buried deep in your pussy when Roman came. his hands in your hair, chest rising hard as he spilled down your throat, across your lips and chin, soft groans falling from his mouth.

he kissed you when he came down from it.

gentle. familiar. thumb brushing your cheek, lips soft and slow against yours.

but you hadn't finished.

you were close so close but it just took longer. it always did.

and Hollis noticed.

“lay back," he murmured, voice low, thick with something dark and wrecked.

you blinked at him, dazed.

he sat up, guiding you gently, helping you onto your back, and then climbed over you his chest flushed, his eyes locked on yours like you were something sacred.

something he'd waited for, longed for, obsessed over.

you parted your legs, breath trembling, and he slid inside you in one deep, perfect thrust.

your back arched.

it was different. he felt different.

bigger. harder. deeper.

and he didn't move right away. he just stayed there, buried to the hilt, breathing against your cheek like he was savoring it.

then "God," he whispered, "you feel even better than i imagined."

he started to move slow and deep, then faster, harder, his hips snapping against yours with rhythm and purpose. every thrust was deliberate, like he was trying to learn you from the inside out.

you gasped, moaned, clutched the sheets.

and beside you... Roman stayed. quiet. steady.

his hand found yours on the bed and held it lightly. his other hand brushed the hair off your forehead, then slid down your shoulder, fingers skimming your skin like he couldn't help himself. his touch was soft, grounding, comforting no words, no pressure. just there.

and Hollis.

Hollis was fucking you like he couldn't stop.

"you wanna cum?" he whispers. "fuck, i wanna feel you cum on me."

you can't even speak. you just clench around him, answer written in your body.

his mouth finds your breasts again, his hips rolling deeper, harder, and you cry out, clutching Roman’s hand tighter as Hollis wrecks you from below.

"didn’t think you'd like it this much," he says, his voice wrecked. "did you?"

you didn't answer.

you couldn't.

because he was making sure you'd feel this for days. and Roman was right there, touching you softly, watching the way your body came apart.

and you couldn't even tell who you liked better.

you’re close.

so close it's painful heat curling low, thighs trembling, your body arching into Hollis’s every thrust. his pace is steady, strong, deeper than you thought you could take. how his hand slides down between your bodies, fingers finding your clit like he's been waiting for this moment like he knows how to push you over the edge.

he rubs it in tight, slow circles, and your whole body jolts.

your breath catches in your throat.

Romans still beside you, quiet, watching. his hand finds your cheek, tilts your face toward him, and then he kisses you.

soft, open, warm.

the contrast makes it worse or better. Hollis fucking you deep, hard, filthy. Roman kissing you gentle, steady, grounding.

it shatters you.

you cry out into Roman’s mouth, the orgasm ripping through you hard and fast. your body clenches, legs shaking, heat washing over you like a wave that doesn't break.

Hollis groans when he feels it your pussy squeezing around him, soaking him. his hand on your clit doesn't let up, rubbing you through it, dragging it out until you're twitching and gasping and grabbing for the sheets.

and that's all it takes.

he drives into you once twice then buries himself deep, hips stuttering as he cums hard inside you with a ragged breath. his body tenses over yours, muscles flexed, mouth open against your neck, spilling into you while you're still shaking beneath him.

he swears under his breath, low and wrecked, like he's been waiting to do this for months.

when you finally pull away from Roman, your lips are swollen, slick, breathless.

but you don't stop.

Hollis still over you, his chest pressed to yours, face buried in your neck, breath ragged against your skin.

you reach for him fingers sliding over the back of his head, playing with his hair and he lifts his head, eyes dark, lips parted.

you pull him down closer until your mouth finds his, crashing into him just as hard, just as hungry.

you kiss him like he's Roman. like he's always been yours. like you don't hate him at all.

and Hollis fucking melts.

his hand slides up your body over your waist, your ribs gripping tight like he still can't believe this is real. his mouth moves over yours again, slower this time, the hunger still there but softened, steadied.

you don't deepen the kiss. you just let it linger open, quiet, lips brushing until you both finally pull back, breathing the same air.

Hollis groans softly as he pulls out, slow and careful, and then lowers himself beside you on the bed, his chest rising and falling against your arm.

Roman moves next, slipping in on your other side without a word. he doesn't say anything just shifts close, fingers trailing lazily over your stomach.

Hollis’s hand finds your thigh, warm and steady. you feel their touches on either side of you gentle, grounding, like they're both still wrapped up in you.

and for a second, none of you say a word.

you and Roman lie there, breathless, bodies still tangled. your eyes meet, and in that quiet look, something passes between you a wordless agreement, a shared knowing that it's time.

slowly, deliberately, you start to move.

Romans fingers brush against yours, lingering just a moment longer as he helps you slide your jeans over your hips. his touch is gentle, steady familiar. you let him slide your shirt on, the silence between you easy, comfortable, unspoken.

Roman leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your temple, then murmurs, "you ready?"

you nod, eyes flicking briefly toward Hollis.

"yeah. let's go."

as you take Romans hand and start toward the door, Hollis’s voice cuts through the room low, casual.

"see you around."

Roman glances at him, confused. you pause for a heartbeat, just enough for your eyes to meet Hollis’s with a quick, knowing smirk.

Roman doesn't catch it.

you squeeze Roman’s hand and follow him out.

behind the closing door, Hollis leans back, a slow smile creeping onto his lips.

he knows.

comment to be added to taglist

2hollis x fem reader x rommulas

contains: slow burn, smut, oral (m & f receiving) (p in v) unprotected sex, threesome

a/n: for anoy that requested! (¯ ³¯)♡

you and Roman had always made sense.

no drama. no pressure. just heat and ease and a kind of comfort that felt like home even when you weren't sleeping together.

it wasn't a secret, either. everyone knew you and Roman would fall into bed for a few weeks, then stop just as easily, no weird tension, no mess. you'd go back to being friends who shared drinks and inside jokes.

and then without fail you'd hook up again eventually. always without a conversation. always with a grin and a shrug and a "why not?"

there was nothing dramatic about it. which was exactly why it worked.

you didn’t ask each other about other people. didn’t check phones or guard feelings. Roman could flirt with girls and you didn’t blink. you could press your body into his, a week later he’d kiss you like it had never stopped.

it was casual. familiar. convenient.

and Hollis hated every fucking second of it.

he’d seen it to many times.

you curled up beside Roman on the couch, legs stretched over his. your hand hand in his. Roman’s mouth on your neck at parties.

and all of it made Hollis’s skin crawl.

it wasn’t supposed to bother him.

he hadn’t even spoken to you not really, not for a long time. you’d never flirted. never touched him. never even looked at him for longer than a second.

but Hollis noticed you.

all the time.

in ways that surprised him.

he noticed your hair still wet from the water. when your laugh cracked mid sentence. when you wore Roman’s hoodies. he noticed the way you licked your bottom lip when you were concentrating, and the way your voice dropped when you whispered something only Ryan and Chessa was supposed to hear.

he noticed the shape of your thighs in cutoff shorts. the curve of your back when you bent to pick up a drink. the way your hips moved when you danced not for attention, not for anyone just because you liked the music.

and it made him insane.

he hated that Roman got to see you like that.

that should've been him. Hollis didn't even know what you sounded like when you came but Roman did. Roman fucking knew. he’d heard it, more than once. heard those pretty little gasps twist into something broken and breathless. heard the way your voice got caught on your moans when it was too much. heard his name on your lips, rough and high and soaked in heat.

that thought alone was enough to make Hollis’s jaw lock and his fists curl until his nails dug crescent moons into his palms.

it wasn’t even about Roman not really. not anymore.

Roman didn’t deserve you. he was a decent enough guy, loyal to fault, always fucking smiling like the world never touched him.

that was the problem.

the problem was Hollis deserved you more.

even if you didn’t know it.

even if you’d never looked at him that way not yet.

you were sweet. bright. always laughing, always soft in a way that made Hollis feel like he had something rotten in his chest just from watching you.

but God, he'd imagined it. every version.

you on your knees, lashes fluttering, mouth open and waiting. you pinned under him, flushed and trembling, whimpering as he dragged it out, slow and deep. you bent over something his bed, a counter, the fucking kitchen table with your ass in the air and your legs shaking while he held your hips in place, low and possessive.

he’d imagined the sound you'd make when he first slid into you. the way your jaw would fall open, breath catching in surprise.

the way your walls would squeeze around him, tight and perfect and so fucking wet.

you wouldn't sound the same with him. he was sure of that.

you’d sound ruined.

and yeah, maybe it was sick how often he thought about it. how many nights he'd gotten himself off to the image of you panting beneath him, body limp and messy, crying his name like you didn't even remember Roman’s.

Hollis didn't jerk off to porn anymore.

he jerked off to you.

to the little sliver of skin he saw when your shirt lifted getting out of the boat. to the way you laughed, all throat and smile and sunlight. to the sound of your voice when you were teasing Roman, playful and wicked.

to the look in your eyes when you were focused on something else oblivious, unguarded.

and sometimes most times he'd imagine you were already his.

he'd grip his cock tight in his fist, hiss between his teeth, and fuck into his hand thinking about how your body would feel.

he'd close his eyes and picture your mouth lips red and swollen, spit slick, cheeks flushed.

he'd imagine you whining for it, whispering please even when you didn't have to. wanting him. finally, fucking wanting him.

he’d spill all over his stomach with his jaw clenched and his eyes shut tight, panting, sweating, groaning your name into the dark like it could make you appear. like if he said it enough times, you'd hear it. you’d feel it.

but when it was over when the slick cum cooled on his skin and the air got heavy again he always felt worse.

because Roman still got to touch you.

Roman still got to kiss you in the open, in front of everyone, with his hands on your waist like it didn't even matter. like you belonged to him. like Hollis wasn't standing right there, watching, starving.

he wanted you so bad it made his teeth ache. made him reckless. made him dangerous.

and he was getting tired of pretending he didn't.

you had no idea. no fucking clue what you were doing to him.

but you'd learn.

you’d feel it, eventually.

his hands.

his mouth.

his name slipping past your lips in a voice you didn't recognize.

not Roman’s.

but he wasn't stupid.

you were loyal to Roman, you wouldn’t go behind his back and fuck his best friend. and he knew how that loyalty ran deeper than it should, stubborn and blinding. you'd never fall into his bed the way you did with Roman. you wouldn't take a drink from his hand or let him press you against the railing at a party.

you wouldn't trust him.

you didn't like him. that much was clear.

but you didn't quite hate him, either not really. even if part of you felt like you should.

he was everything you weren't supposed to be around,manipulative, unpredictable in a way that wasn't fun. the kind of guy you rolled your eyes at across a room. the kind of guy who never got your smile, never got more than a clipped reply or a quick glance before you turned away.

and yet... you didn't avoid him.

not entirely.

you watched him sometimes curious, wary. not soft, not open, but not closed off either. like you were trying to figure him out and never quite could.

Hollis noticed

he noticed everything.

so he had to be careful. strategic. he had to wait for the perfect moment.

and then... create it.

he started planning the party a week in advance. every detail mattered.

he told himself it was just a regular get together. nothing special. just enough of a buzz for word to get around. enough bodies to blend in. but really, it wasn't about the crowd.

it was about you.

he needed you there. needed to see you, needed a window any window. a sliver of an opportunity to get close, to watch you soften, laugh, drink. he knew how you moved at parties how you started off alert, shoulders a little tense, and then slowly unraveled as the night wore on, as Roman stayed close, as your guard slipped and your smile warmed.

and maybe, if he could catch you in the right mood tipsy, playful, unguarded he could slide in.

not force it. not demand it.

just suggest.

because even if you didn't like him and you didn't, not really there was still something in the way you glanced at him sometimes. guarded. dismissive. but not indifferent. like you were trying not to look twice.

he saw it once, weeks ago.

a flash of something in your expression when you thought he wasn't looking. when you watched him laugh with a girl whose name he couldn't remember, and your lips pressed into a flat, unreadable line.

just for a second. gone as quick as it came.

but he caught it.

so, the party.

the setup had to be right. alcohol everywhere. music loud enough to blur conversation but soft enough to hear your voice if he got close. lighting dim. upstairs unlocked.

he knew it was a risk. knew Roman might not let you out of his sight. knew you might not drink much, might stay close to the wall, might keep your arms around Romans neck the whole night like a warning sign.

he could handle that.

he'd wait. watch. find the weak point.

but nothing prepared him for the way his stomach dropped when he finally saw you again.

you were with Roman of course you were.

you always were.

you'd been at the party for a couple hours by then, weaving through the crowd together like you belonged to it. laughing. drinking. your hand in his. your body leaning toward his like it belonged there.

you were smiling, relaxed, barely noticing anyone else. your shirt clung to you in all the places Hollis had imagined touching.

your skin already glowed, cheeks warm from the heat and whatever you'd been sipping on since you showed up.

and Roman, Roman had the audacity to kiss you in the middle of the kitchen like it was nothing.

just leaned in and pressed his mouth to yours, casual and mindless, his palm sliding low on your back like he owned the right to be there. like your mouth was just his to take. like you weren't something sacred.

Hollis felt something sharp coil in his gut.

disgust.

you looked so soft, so fucking perfect, and yet you were wrapped around a guy who didn't even need you. who could touch you like it was easy. like it didn't mean everything. like he didn't lie awake imagining it.

Hollis did.

every time.

his hands clenched. he flexed his jaw once.

twice.

he kept his distance at first. watched you from the hallway. nursed a drink he didn't even taste. he told himself to wait. be smart. be calm.

but then, a little after midnight, he saw it.

you and Roman slipping down the hall laughing, stumbling just a little.

Romans hand on your hip, your fingers tangled in his shirt.

no one else seemed to notice.

Hollis did.

he followed.

quiet steps. familiar floorboards. he knew exactly where Roman would take you where he'd think you could be alone.

the door was cracked just enough.

when Hollis looked inside, he nearly saw red.

you were on your back, halfway on the bed, your shirt already gone and Roman’s sprawled on the floor. he was on top of you, bare chested, one hand cupping your jaw, the other sliding down your thigh. you were kissing him like you meant it open mouthed, messy, eyes shut. you were into it.

Hollis’s vision blurred for a second.

and then he opened the door.

deliberate. calm.

you both froze like someone had slammed the air out of the room.

Roman snapped up first, chest heaving, grabbing the edge of the mattress like he was about to lunge. "what the fuck Hollis, what are you doing here?"

you didn't say anything. you just stared wide eyed, breath caught, lips still parted.

Hollis didn't look at Roman. he looked at you.

"i live here," he said flatly, like it should've been obvious.

Romans eyes darkened. "get the fuck out."

Hollis took a step forward, slow, lazy. His hands stayed at his sides. his voice didn't change.

"i want in."

Roman blinked. "what?"

"i said..." Hollis dragged his gaze from your chest to your eyes, unflinching. "i want in. for her."

it was smooth. so smooth it barely registered as what it was. just a murmur.

just a suggestion.

Roman stood up fast, half dressed, fists clenched. "no. what the hell. get the fuck out of here."

but Hollis didn't move. he didn't raise his voice. didn’t flinch.

"i think..." he said slowly, eyes never leaving yours, "we should let her decide."

you swallowed hard.

Romans jaw tensed. "don’t listen to him. he’s just being a fucking creep."

but Hollis didn't even look at him.

he looked at you.

and he waited.

you sat up slowly, still breathless, skin flushed from Roman’s mouth, the sheets creased beneath your palms.

your first thought was no knee jerk, immediate. of course not. it was Hollis. the guy you didn't like, didn't trust. the one who looked at you like you were already his and made something in you twist when he did.

but you didn't say anything.

you looked at him, standing in front of you and Roman, his eyes unreadable, posture too relaxed for what he'd just walked in on. too casual. too composed.

and then, he said something you didn't expect.

something soft.

"i know you don't like me," he said. quiet.

even. almost... gentle. "but if you let me touch you... i swear i'll make you feel good."

Roman blinked, like he wasn't sure he heard right.

you looked at Hollis harder now, heart still racing, chest rising and falling. there was something off about the way he said it like he meant it. like he wasn't here to humiliate you, or push you, or use you to get under Roman’s skin. like he just... wanted you.

Roman looked from him to you, then back again.

his voice was lower when he said it this time. "it’s up to you."

you turned to him, brows slightly drawn.

"you’re... okay with this?"

he looked at you for a second, searching your face. "if it's what you want," he said, soft and sure.

"then yeah. i’m okay with it."

you stared at him.

then at Hollis.

and the silence stretched.

you didn't like Hollis. you didn't trust him.

he made your heart race sometimes, the way he watched you. too intense. too quiet. too much.

but... there was something else.

something in his eyes now that wasn't cruel or cocky. Something slower. hotter. it made your stomach flip.

you hated that it pulled at you.

but it did.

and you were already this far half naked, heart pounding, blood hot beneath your skin.

you looked at Roman.

he looked right back.

neither of you said a word. you didn't have to.

it was that look the one that had passed between you a hundred times before, in bedrooms and hangouts and tangled sheets.

the kind that asked 'you want to?' and answered 'fuck yeah’

you could feel Hollis watching in front of you, barely breathing. waiting.

and still, it was Roman’s eyes you held.

then just the faintest tug at the corner of his mouth. a smirk. not cocky. not teasing.

just... knowing.

you mirrored it.

and then you kissed him.

slow. confident. like you'd done it a thousand times and you had. but this time, it felt different. this time, someone else was watching.

you didn't look at Hollis. you didn't have to.

he took the cue without a word.

the bed dipped beside you.

then his mouth was at our neck hot, slow, needy. his breath fanned across your skin as his lips dragged along your pulse, and your body reacted before your brain could catch up. your shoulders pulled back, chest arching just slightly, breath stuttering against Roman’s.

your hand moved without thinking sliding to the back of his neck, nails grazing his skin. you felt the way he leaned into it, groaning low, like he'd been starving for that single touch.

Romans hand moved to your waist, grounding you, and his mouth deepened against yours.

and there you were between them.

one familiar. one forbidden.

both of them on you, for you.

Roman kissed you again slow, steadying his hand cupping the side of your face like he was reminding you it was okay to just feel. that you were safe. that you could give in.

Hollis’s mouth was still on your neck lips dragging soft and open, breath hot.

his hands moved like he'd studied you, like he already knew what you liked. fingertips grazing your thighs, your waist, the edge of your ribs. barely there but enough to make your breath hitch.

you felt yourself sinking into it into them.

but then Hollis's hand slid higher, his fingers brushing your jaw, tilting your face away from Roman’s.

your lips parted on instinct.

and then you were staring at him. close. breathless. caught.

his eyes burned dark and locked onto yours like this moment had been haunting him. like he couldn't believe it was real. he didn't speak. he didn't smile. he just looked at you.

and you smirked.

subtle. barely there. but enough for him to feel it. like you could sense exactly how wrecked he already was. like you liked it.

that's when he kissed you. hungry. deep. desperate but not rough.

his lips moved with purpose, mouth warm and full against yours, like he'd been waiting for this for months. because he had.

and now he was tasting you like it mattered.

like you weren't just a hookup. like you were something he'd been chasing in his head for too long to ever go slow now.

and when his tongue slid against yours, when his hand tightened on your thigh, you felt Roman’s breath brush your shoulder still there. still watching.

his mouth found your neck next.

the opposite side. cooler skin, untouched, still waiting for him. his kisses were slower, softer. familiar. he knew how to make you relax into it, even when your head was spinning.

and it was. spinning from how good this already felt. from the heat between their hands and mouths and how neither of them was rushing.

you reached for Hollis’s shirt, fingers curling in the fabric, tugging just enough to ask. he got the message right away.

he pulled it over his head in one smooth motion eager, but not frantic and dropped it somewhere behind him. his chest was toned, golden, and already flushed. then he was back on you, lips finding yours again like he couldn't stand the distance. his hand cupped your jaw as he kissed you, thumb brushing your cheek, while his other hand found the button on your jeans.

you didn't stop him. you didn't want to.

Roman’s hands moved down your sides, settling at the clasp of your bra. he undid it easily, fingers practiced, then slid the straps down your arms slow, steady. his lips never left your neck. he was close beside you on the edge of the bed, warm and familiar, and when the fabric fell away, he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder.

then gently he guided you back, laying you down onto the mattress with care.

you laid back, heart racing, chest bare and rising fast.

Hollis was still kissing you as Roman stepped away for a moment, and you watched out of the corner of your eye as he stripped jeans and boxers hitting the floor in one clean motion.

Hollis’s fingers slipped beneath the waistband of your jeans, and Roman moved to help, both of them peeling the rest of your clothes off like they'd done it together before. and then skin to skin you were fully exposed, laid out beneath both of them.

Roman climbed back over you, his eyes meeting yours with an intense, hungry gaze before he settled between your wide spread legs.

you felt the thick, throbbing weight of him rub through your slick folds hot, wet, and easy from how incredibly turned on you already were. he pushed inside you with a low, guttural groan, stretching you open, filling you completely, his length pulsing inside your tight, wet heat.

It was familiar, yet every time felt like the first deep, smooth, and utterly intoxicating. the feeling of him moving inside you, the way your body accommodated his size, was the perfect torture.

Hollis never stopped touching you. as Roman began to move slow, deliberate thrusts that hit every sensitive spot you felt Hollis’s lips trail down your body, kissing and nipping at your collarbone, down the slope of your breast, until his mouth closed around your nipple. he sucked gently but firmly, his tongue flicking and swirling, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core. you arched into it with a soft, desperate gasp, your body begging for more.

then you pulled him back up, your hand gripping his neck, crashing your mouth against his in a fierce, hungry kiss. you moaned into it into the kiss, into the rhythm of Roman inside you and Hollis swallowed it like it was the air he needed to breathe.

"is he making you feel good?" he asked against your lips, his voice low, raw, and wrecked with desire.

you nodded, your lips brushing his, your breath coming in short, desperate pants.

"mmm..."

you kept kissing him, harder now, your body rolling and grinding into every slow, deep thrust from Roman’s hips. but then you pulled back slowly, your chest heaving with exertion and arousal-and looked at Roman.

"wait..." you breathed, your voice hoarse with need. "go around."

Roman paused, brows raised, then carefully pulled out of you. you felt the absence of him immediately, already missing the stretch, the pressure but the look in your eyes told him you had something else in mind.

he understood. he always did.

Roman moved to the foot of the bed.

you turned to Hollis, chest still rising and falling fast, lips slightly parted. and then quietly, almost sweetly you leaned in and kissed him once more.

"do whatever you want."

his jaw clenched. his eyes went dark. but he didn't say a word.

you turned, shifting onto your knees at the edge of the bed, mouth already finding Roman’s length as he stepped in closer. you wrapped your hand around him, tongue trailing slowly up the underside before taking him into your mouth, wet and warm and eager.

and then you felt it.

movement behind you. the mattress shifting.

and then Hollis’s shoulders easing down, his back hitting the sheets.

you feel his hands slide up your thighs from below, spreading you open gently, holding you steady over him.

you thought he was going to fuck you thought you'd feel him push inside, hard and desperate.

but instead...

his mouth.

his tongue.

the first hot stroke of it made you jolt shoulders pulling back, a muffled gasp escaping around Roman’s cock.

you hadn't expected that. you hadn't expected him to do that.

but Hollis groaned against you, low and hungry, tongue working between your folds like he needed it like he'd dreamed of this.

his grip on your thighs tightened, keeping you still as he licked deeper, slower, more deliberate with every pass.

it wasn't rushed. it wasn't messy. it was worship.

and the shock of it the way he was putting you first, the way his mouth moved like it belonged there made your whole body burn.

you moaned around Roman, throat humming, hips rocking back into Hollis’s mouth before you even realized you were doing it.

Hollis was groaning now too, like the taste of you was everything. like this moment had been haunting him for months.

and God, it felt like it.

you were shaking, mouth swollen, breath shallow, Hollis’s tongue buried deep in your pussy when Roman came. his hands in your hair, chest rising hard as he spilled down your throat, across your lips and chin, soft groans falling from his mouth.

he kissed you when he came down from it.

gentle. familiar. thumb brushing your cheek, lips soft and slow against yours.

but you hadn't finished.

you were close so close but it just took longer. it always did.

and Hollis noticed.

“lay back," he murmured, voice low, thick with something dark and wrecked.

you blinked at him, dazed.

he sat up, guiding you gently, helping you onto your back, and then climbed over you his chest flushed, his eyes locked on yours like you were something sacred.

something he'd waited for, longed for, obsessed over.

you parted your legs, breath trembling, and he slid inside you in one deep, perfect thrust.

your back arched.

it was different. he felt different.

bigger. harder. deeper.

and he didn't move right away. he just stayed there, buried to the hilt, breathing against your cheek like he was savoring it.

then "God," he whispered, "you feel even better than i imagined."

he started to move slow and deep, then faster, harder, his hips snapping against yours with rhythm and purpose. every thrust was deliberate, like he was trying to learn you from the inside out.

you gasped, moaned, clutched the sheets.

and beside you... Roman stayed. quiet. steady.

his hand found yours on the bed and held it lightly. his other hand brushed the hair off your forehead, then slid down your shoulder, fingers skimming your skin like he couldn't help himself. his touch was soft, grounding, comforting no words, no pressure. just there.

and Hollis.

Hollis was fucking you like he couldn't stop.

"you wanna cum?" he whispers. "fuck, i wanna feel you cum on me."

you can't even speak. you just clench around him, answer written in your body.

his mouth finds your breasts again, his hips rolling deeper, harder, and you cry out, clutching Roman’s hand tighter as Hollis wrecks you from below.

"didn’t think you'd like it this much," he says, his voice wrecked. "did you?"

you didn't answer.

you couldn't.

because he was making sure you'd feel this for days. and Roman was right there, touching you softly, watching the way your body came apart.

and you couldn't even tell who you liked better.

you’re close.

so close it's painful heat curling low, thighs trembling, your body arching into Hollis’s every thrust. his pace is steady, strong, deeper than you thought you could take. how his hand slides down between your bodies, fingers finding your clit like he's been waiting for this moment like he knows how to push you over the edge.

he rubs it in tight, slow circles, and your whole body jolts.

your breath catches in your throat.

Romans still beside you, quiet, watching. his hand finds your cheek, tilts your face toward him, and then he kisses you.

soft, open, warm.

the contrast makes it worse or better. Hollis fucking you deep, hard, filthy. Roman kissing you gentle, steady, grounding.

it shatters you.

you cry out into Roman’s mouth, the orgasm ripping through you hard and fast. your body clenches, legs shaking, heat washing over you like a wave that doesn't break.

Hollis groans when he feels it your pussy squeezing around him, soaking him. his hand on your clit doesn't let up, rubbing you through it, dragging it out until you're twitching and gasping and grabbing for the sheets.

and that's all it takes.

he drives into you once twice then buries himself deep, hips stuttering as he cums hard inside you with a ragged breath. his body tenses over yours, muscles flexed, mouth open against your neck, spilling into you while you're still shaking beneath him.

he swears under his breath, low and wrecked, like he's been waiting to do this for months.

when you finally pull away from Roman, your lips are swollen, slick, breathless.

but you don't stop.

Hollis still over you, his chest pressed to yours, face buried in your neck, breath ragged against your skin.

you reach for him fingers sliding over the back of his head, playing with his hair and he lifts his head, eyes dark, lips parted.

you pull him down closer until your mouth finds his, crashing into him just as hard, just as hungry.

you kiss him like he's Roman. like he's always been yours. like you don't hate him at all.

and Hollis fucking melts.

his hand slides up your body over your waist, your ribs gripping tight like he still can't believe this is real. his mouth moves over yours again, slower this time, the hunger still there but softened, steadied.

you don't deepen the kiss. you just let it linger open, quiet, lips brushing until you both finally pull back, breathing the same air.

Hollis groans softly as he pulls out, slow and careful, and then lowers himself beside you on the bed, his chest rising and falling against your arm.

Roman moves next, slipping in on your other side without a word. he doesn't say anything just shifts close, fingers trailing lazily over your stomach.

Hollis’s hand finds your thigh, warm and steady. you feel their touches on either side of you gentle, grounding, like they're both still wrapped up in you.

and for a second, none of you say a word.

you and Roman lie there, breathless, bodies still tangled. your eyes meet, and in that quiet look, something passes between you a wordless agreement, a shared knowing that it's time.

slowly, deliberately, you start to move.

Romans fingers brush against yours, lingering just a moment longer as he helps you slide your jeans over your hips. his touch is gentle, steady familiar. you let him slide your shirt on, the silence between you easy, comfortable, unspoken.

Roman leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your temple, then murmurs, "you ready?"

you nod, eyes flicking briefly toward Hollis.

"yeah. let's go."

as you take Romans hand and start toward the door, Hollis’s voice cuts through the room low, casual.

"see you around."

Roman glances at him, confused. you pause for a heartbeat, just enough for your eyes to meet Hollis’s with a quick, knowing smirk.

Roman doesn't catch it.

you squeeze Roman’s hand and follow him out.

behind the closing door, Hollis leans back, a slow smile creeping onto his lips.

he knows.

comment to be added to taglist

safety net ✦ Ian x fem!reader { 01} — The intro next -> | m.list & cmment for taglist

Y/n Fox: is a well known OF star who went viral for her collab Mazzy and lotuss pics on insta

Mazzy Joya: Her and Y/n became best friends when they were 16 at a modeling agency they are close ever since

Lotus’s blossom: Her and Reader were mutuals on insta but didn’t know Mazzy was a mutual friend and they got close bc Mazzy told them and they all just clicked