#<2

(aro culture is me promising all of the young aros in these asks that you're not doomed, there's a place out here for you too)

𝒫𝓉 1

Fwb!hollis x reader

Summary: you and Hollis had been best friends for years and you caught feeling quickly. No one knew besides Ryan because he was like your brother. You and Hollis start hooking up and you can’t keep your feeling hidden anymore.

Smut, harsh language, a!cohol, drug usage, smoking, friends with benefits, teasing, fluff, angst.

You were a model who had become popular on insta and tiktok. You were always going out to parties and concerts. You and Ryan had been friends since your senior year of high school and he was like your brother now. One night he convinced you to go to an album release party for his friend Hollis. That night you and Hollis hit it off and became best friends. The two of you have been inseparable since and deep down you were head over heels in love with him but you only ever let Ryan know that. Tonight you and the guys got invited to a mutual friends house party. You would never turn down a good time so obviously you went. You took an uber to the party and immediately started drinking. Everyone was spread out having fun and talking to people. You were dancing in a crowd alone drink in hand, feeling that light, floaty buzz creeping in—you’re not wasted, but you know you’re getting close.

Music pulses through the house, lights flashing while people crowd the rooms, dancing and laughing. Across the room, Hollis leans against the kitchen counter, calm and collected as always. He’s the designated sober driver tonight, so while everyone has fun he’s just watching, taking it all in with that quiet, responsible energy of his. Your eyes land on him, and a mischievous smile forms instantly. “Hollis,” you mumble under your breath, weaving through the crowd toward him. He notices you coming and lifts his head, eyes narrowing slightly with a teasing look. “Oh no… y/n,” he says, already smirking. “What happened? What’d you do?” You stop in front of him, trying to look innocent. “Nothing… why?” He exhales, placing a steady hand against your side to keep you from swaying too much. “Mhm… yeah, you don’t look too great,” he jokes, the smirk growing. You laugh, leaning a little closer. “What are you talking about? I’m amazing.” Hollis shakes his head, smiling as his hand shifts to your waist, grounding you. The contact sends a small wave of warmth through you, and you tilt your head up, meeting his eyes—yours a little glossy, a little unfocused. Before you can stop yourself, the words slip out. “Did you know you’re like… way too hot for your own good?” you murmur, half teasing, half serious. He raises an eyebrow, caught between amused and slightly thrown off. “Oh yeah? That you talking, or the drinks?” You pretending to think, then grin. “Maybe me…maybe both.” You laugh softly. “But seriously… it’s kind of unfair. Like, dangerously attractive.” He lets out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Alright, that’s enough. Let’s get you some water before you say something you’ll regret.”

“No! No. I don’t want water. I’m good. I’m good.” You put a hand on his abs without thinking twice. Hollis laughs at that, his breath hitching slightly at your touch. He glances down at your hand, his gaze flickering back up to meet your eyes. He knows you well, knows what you get like when you’re a few drinks in. He also knows how much more touchy you’re likely to get the more intoxicated you get. But he can’t help feeling heat building in his chest from the way you’re so openly flirting with him, the way you touch him so casually in public. He grins, his thumb rubbing slow circles against your hip. Hollis lets out a sharp, surprised laugh as you yank at his shirt. His abs flex involuntarily under your touch, and for half a second he forgets to be the responsible one—his smirk turns downright dangerous. “Y/n.” He says your name like a warning, but his hands are already sliding down to grip your hips tighter. The party noise fades into background static as he leans in just enough that you catch the scent of his cologne mixed with cheap beer from earlier. “You keep this up and I’m tossing you in the pool fully clothed.” It sounds threatening but there's zero heat behind it—his dark eyes are glittering with amusement (and something else). He waits to see if drunk-you will double down or finally listen. “Yeah but I can’t swim very good so you’ll have to jump in after.” You smile proudly. He almost laughs at the way you look so damn proud of yourself, but manages to keep his composure. His grip on your hips tightens, his fingers digging into the soft skin. “Of course you don't swim good,” he says, his voice low and amused. “You're wasted, I could probably put you in and you’d start trying to drown me.” His gaze slides over your flushed face, taking in your hazy eyes and drunken smirk. It’s taking all his self-control not to pull you against him right here in the middle of this party. You gasp. “I would never try to drown someone so hot.” Hollis’ smirk drops for half a second—completely blindsided by that one. His grip on you slackens just enough to betray his shock before he recovers, forcing an even deeper scoff. “Oh wow,” he deadpans, “now you're just making shit up.” But the way his jaw tenses? The flush creeping up his neck? He’s not fooling anyone. Roman chooses that exact moment to stumble into the kitchen, slinging an arm around both of your shoulders with a loud cackle. “YO HOLLIS WHY YOU RED—“ Hollis shoves him off so fast Roman nearly topples over. “Romie!” You shout and throw your arms in the air. Roman leans against the counter, clearly trying to catch his breath from laughing too hard. “Damn, Hollis, I was just—“

“Shut up, Roman,” Hollis mutters, his grip on your hip tightening for a second before it relaxes a little. Roman snickers, his gaze moving between the two of you, a knowing gleam in his eye. “You good, Hollis? You look a little… flustered.” You look up at Hollis and tilt your head. “What’s wrong?” You ask—completely oblivious to the fact that you’re the cause. Hollis exhales sharply through his nose, pinching the bridge of it with his free hand like he’s physically trying to stop himself from combusting. Roman is now wheezing in the background. “Nothing,” he grits out—too fast, too defensive. His other hand stays locked on your waist like a lifeline. “Roman's just being a little bitch.” Roman wipes imaginary tears away, gasping: “BRO SHE CALLED YOU HOT AND NOW YOU'RE—“ Hollis whirls on him, “I will throw you both in the pool.” You shift to half-hug Roman. “Fine, Roman will be my floatie.” Roman bursts out laughing at that, his arms wrapping around you with a little too much enthusiasm. Hollis looks like he's regretting all his life decisions up until this point as both of you gang up on him. “You two are the literal worst,” he mutters, but there's no real bite behind it. Roman just grins, still cackling, and pulls you a little closer. “C’mon, Hollis,” he says between snorts of laughter. “You know you love us.” You smile and decide to join in. “Yeah! You love us.” You agree. Hollis scrubs a hand down his face, a long suffering sigh escaping his lips. He knows it's useless trying to argue with you when you're like this. Roman's still got his arms wrapped around you, both of y'all grinning like idiots, the alcohol making everything seem more hilarious than it should be. “I hate you both,” Hollis finally mutters, eyeing both of you in irritation. But the corners of his lips twitch up ever so slightly, betraying his amusement. You just giggle. “You’re hot too actually.” You look at up at roman and then back to Hollis, “But Hollis is so stupidly hot..” Roman howls in laughter, throwing his head back in genuine delight. Hollis shoots his friend a sharp glare, but the annoyance doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He exhales heavily again, resigned now to this drunken banter. He still has a hold on your hip, grip a little too firm to be casual. His eyes flick down to you, dark gaze studying your flushed face and wide smile. “And you're the queen of compliments tonight, aren't you?” he remarks dryly. “Queen of truth. I’ll have you know.” You say with a face that almost screams “ha gotcha there”. "Rightttt" he drawls, a hint of skepticism in his voice. But he can't hide the way the corners of his lips tug up again, betraying the way he finds you endearing even at your drunkest. Roman's not helping the situation either; he’s still clinging to you, making all sorts of exaggerated whooping noises while Hollis glares daggers at him. “You two are like children,” he mutters. “Oh my god! You know what I want?! A sandwich from subway..ooo no! Firehouse!” You hit Roman’s chest—not enough to hurt but enough for him to feel it. Roman laughs even harder at that, doubling over and having to cling to the counter to stay upright. Hollis can’t even attempt to put on a serious face anymore; he’s fighting a losing battle against the corners of his mouth twitching up into a grudging smile. “A sandwich?” he repeats, raising an eyebrow incredulously. “You’re drunk out of your mind and the only thing you want is a damn sandwich?” You nod eagerly. “What time is it?!” You ask hoping there’s time to get your sandwich. Both Roman and Hollis look at their watches at the same time, almost in sync. Hollis is the one to respond: “It’s almost one in the morning,” he replies. “Subway and Firehouse are both definitely closed by now.”

“Fuck..” you pout—apparently you had pent up tears because a tear falls. Now you’re wasted and crying over a sandwich. Roman is in hysterical giggles now, leaning most of his weight into you. Hollis just looks genuinely stunned, watching as you tear up over the sandwich. “What in the—“ He just stares for a moment, trying to process what's happening. “Are you— are you actually crying.. about a sandwich shop not being open??” You softly chuckle and smile at your own behavior. “I’m hungry…” Hollis’ face does something between “this is a joke” and “I am deeply concerned for your well-being. Roman, meanwhile, has officially lost it—he's doubled over wheezing now. “Bro,” Hollis says slowly, “we can get you food. Just... stop crying??” He looks genuinely concerned as he wipes the tear off your cheek with his thumb. You giggle again and nod. Hollis is still looking at you like you’re an absolute nutcase, but his expression softens slightly when he sees you giggling through the tears. Roman finally straightens up, trying (and failing) to compose himself. “Holy...I swear I've never seen anyone cry over a closed sandwich shop before,” he wheezes, wiping his own eyes. “I’m getting you a snack,” Hollis mutters gruffly at you, “because I am not dealing with you crying all night.” You furrow your eyebrows. “But I want a sandwich…” you complain. Hollis’ eye twitches. Roman is now clutching his stomach, laughing so hard he might actually pass out. “Y/n.” Hollis says very slowly, like he’s explaining something to a toddler, “it is 1 AM. The sandwich gods are not answering their phones.” Roman wheezes. “Just— Just feed her a cheese stick or something before she starts crying over an ice cream machine next—“ You start laughing. “Sandwich gods..” Hollis’ face relaxes slightly at the sound of your laugh. He’s still trying to process the fact that you went from drunken flirting to crying to laughing, all in the span of ten minutes. Roman is just watching you both, still trying to catch his breath. “You are a mess, you know that?” Hollis says, but there’s no heat to it. He’s trying to sound annoyed, but it's a bit hard to take him seriously when you're giggling like an idiot. “Yes and you sir are a god. Perfect.” You say with a stupid grin. Hollis snorts out a laugh at that response, shaking his head in disbelief. He doesn't even bother denying that statement. “A god, huh?” He repeats, still holding on gently to your hip. He studies your face, the way your eyes glint with a mix of drunken giddiness and tears, and the way your lips are curled into a lopsided grin. “You're ridiculous, you know that?” he mutters, but there's no hiding the flicker of affection in his eyes. Roman, having finally managed to compose himself, chimes in, “Oh god, I'm going to puke from how sweet this is.” Hollis shoots him a glare, but it has little effect now. “Shut up,” he snaps, rolling his eyes. He turns back to you, his grip on your hip subconsciously tightening a tad. “Come on, you menace. I'm getting you food before you have a complete breakdown over a Big Mac or something.”

“Nooo” you whine not wanting to leave the party yet. Hollis raises an eyebrow, the smirk returning to his lips. Roman snorts again, clearly enjoying this way too much. “No?” Hollis repeats, feigning offense. “You were crying over a sandwich and now you don't want food? Make up your damn mind.” Roman chimes in. “Bro she’s drunk—her brain is like 20% functional right now!” You walk away ignoring his hold on your hip. Hollis' hand drops to his side as you stumble away, his expression flickering between annoyance and something softer—maybe concern. You accidentally bump into one of your friends and quickly hug her. Roman whistles low under his breath. “Ooooooh,” Roman sing-songs, “she just ditched you for a new victim.” Hollis shoves him lightly, not taking the bait this time. Instead, he watches from a distance as you cling to your girlfriend with that same wobbly smile. Nate suddenly appears beside him holding two waters. “...We need an intervention or are we letting this play out?” You and your friend are messing around and end up making out playfully. You did this a lot and it was always fun in games for you depending who you were kissing. Hollis just stands there, watching in disbelief as you and your friend go from talking to making out. Roman and Jonah are both laughing now, clearly enjoying the show. “Well, there goes the intervention,” Nate pipes up. Hollis says nothing, just watches you with a mix of disbelief and resignation on his face. Roman slaps him on the back, laughing hysterically. “Bro, your face right now—“ Hollis scoffs and glares at him. “Oh, shut up,” he mutters. But he can't seem to tear his gaze away from you. You're giggling, your friend is giggling, and he's not sure whether to be irritated or amused at this point...

You finally pull away from your friend and the two of you continue conversation. “Okay I love youuu” you tell her before parting ways. Hollis rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. Roman is practically doubled over laughing now, and even Nate can't seem to hide the amused look on his face. “Wow,” Nate says with a grin. “She’s really living her best life, huh?” Hollis just grumbles something under his breathe, something about “drunk idiots” and “a goddamn circus” But he's still watching you, his gaze tracing over your figure. “What is up my friends?” You say as you rejoin the guys. Hollis shakes his head, still trying and failing to maintain his annoyed facade. Roman is practically wiping away tears from laughing too hard, and Nate can't help but smile at the playful tone in your voice. “You’re a mess right now, that’s what’s up,” Hollis says with a small snort of amusement. “You went from crying about a sandwich to making out with your friend and back to being a comedian. All in, what, fifteen minutes?” You smile. “You guys love me. I know. Thank you. Thank you.” You act like you’re receiving a grand ovation. Hollis scoffs, but he can’t fully hide the slight up-twitch of his mouth. “Loving you right now feels a lot like babysitting,” he mutters, shaking his head. Roman pipes up, still chuckling. “Babysitting a drunk circus clown, maybe.” You smile innocently. “So how about that sandwich?” You snap your fingers and point at him. Hollis actually laughs at that, a genuine bark of amusement. He’s trying desperately to act annoyed, but your antics are just too ridiculous—and honestly kind of charming—to ignore. “Seriously, you’re still on about that?!” he says, raising an eyebrow. He crosses his arms over his chest, feigning indifference. Roman and Nate are both watching with grins on their faces, clearly enjoying this whole situation.

“I am hungry.” You say putting your hands on your hips. Hollis sighs, pretending to be exasperated. But there’s a flicker of concern in his eyes as he studies your face. You’re swaying a little, leaning against the counter for support. “You’re also drunk,” he points out matter-of-factually. He glances over at Roman and Nate, his expression saying “what do I do with this girl?”. Roman just grins, putting his hands up in mock surrender. “You’re on your own with this one, bro.” Nate snorts, nodding in agreement. Hollis just sighs, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Fine,” he mutters, giving in. “I’ll get you a damn sandwich. But after this, you're drinking some water and going straight to sleep, got it?” Your whole face lights up. “Do you promise?!” You ask with hope. Hollis rolls his eyes, a small smile pulling at his lips despite his best efforts. “Yes, I promise,” he huffs. “A sandwich and water, then sleep. No more drunk shenanigans.” You pout at the idea of being cut off for the night. “Boo..” Hollis smirks at your pout, shaking his head in amusement. “Don't 'boo' me,” he teases. “You’re the one who needs to be cut off. You’re a walking disaster right now.” You shake your head ready to argue otherwise. “I dont. I can keep drinking.” You protest. Hollis’ smirk vanishes instantly, replaced by a sharp glare. “Absolutely not,” he says, his tone leaving zero room for argument. He steps closer, towering over you with an unamused expression. “You’re already slurring your words and crying over sandwiches—no way in hell am I letting you drink more.” Roman whistles from the sidelines. “Oooooh he’s using the dad voice!” You stick your tongue out and try to run away. Roman grabs you too fast. Maybe platformed heels wasn’t the right shoe choice for the night. He pulls you back with a firm hand on your arm. Hollis just watches with a mix of amusement and irritation, shaking his head at your childish antics. “You’re like a damn toddler,” he huffs, rolling his eyes at you. “Would it kill you to behave for one minute?” You cross your arms. “I don’t wanna. I wanna have funnn” you whine. Hollis sighs, rubbing his temples with his fingers. He’s trying so hard to stay annoyed, but it's difficult when you're looking so goddamn cute right now. “You can have fun without getting shitfaced,” he points out, his tone still gruff. “You don't need to act like a complete fool to have a good time.” You sigh dramatically before Roman picks you up tossing you over his shoulder. He works with Hollis to get you out to the car. You just accept defeat and melt on Roman. Hollis hold the car door open, looking both relieved and mildly concerned at how easily Roman manhandled you. “Alright, drama queen,” Hollis mutters, “in the car before I change my mind about getting that sandwich.” Roman plops you in gently (mostly because he's scared Hollis will actually throw him in a pool for dropping his drunk best friend). He shuts the door with a smirk. “Good luck babysitting this one.”

You get comfy in the passenger seat. “Byeee” you say loudly even though the door is closed and you wave aggressively. Hollis snorts, shaking his head as he watches you waving like a lunatic from inside the car. He's torn between finding you hilarious and completely exasperated—probably both, if he’s being honest. “God help me,” he mutters under his breath, climbing into the driver's seat while Roman laughs from the sidewalk. “Hiii!” You say as Hollis gets in. Hollis rolls his eyes as you greet him, starting the car. “Hey, drunky,” he replies, giving you a sidelong glance as he pulls away from the curb. “Ready for your sandwich?” Your face lights up. “OMG YESS!” Hollis can't help but smile at your enthusiasm, amused by how excited you are for a simple sandwich. “Alright, don't hyperventilate over there,” he teases, chuckling. “Let me get you fed before you pass out in my car.”

“How did you find a sandwich at this time?” Unbeknownst to you Hollis had searched for a 24 hour subway the minute you asked for it. “I have my ways,” he replies cryptically, not wanting to reveal just how far he went to fulfill your late night sandwich cravings. “Wow smart and handsome.” You rest your elbows on the center console and hold your head up in your hands. You smile and stare at him like a child. He feels his face flush a bit at the unexpected compliment, but tries to play it off with a scoff. “Damn right I am,” he quips back, trying to sound nonchalant but secretly preening under the compliment. He tries to keep his focus on the road, but your gaze is practically burning into the side of his head right now. Eventually, he caves, tilting his head slightly toward you, eyebrow raised in curiosity. “You’re staring.” He points out bluntly, his voice gruff. He tries to sound annoyed and unimpressed, but his tone betrays just a hint of bashfulness. The fact that you're drunkenly complimenting him, staring at him with those wide, slightly glossy eyes isn't helping much, either. “I like looking at art.” You say with a funny grin. Hollis huffs a laugh at that, shaking his head in both disbelief and amusement. Your drunk brain is saying the most ridiculous things right now, and he should probably be annoyed...but he's not. He can't quite explain it, but there's something endearing about your random, giggly, honest self right now. He decides to play along, just for the hell of it. “Art, huh? And why do you like looking at me, exactly?” You hum quietly. “Beautiful!” Hollis snorts, his lips curling up into a smirk. “You’re saying I'm beautiful?” he teases, sneaking another sidelong glance at you. His smirk widens as he watches you nod profusely, your head bobbing with drunken enthusiasm. He shakes his head in mock disapproval, but he's secretly enjoying this way more than he should. He focuses back on the road, trying to keep his expression neutral and his voice cool, but he's fighting a losing battle with his ego right now. Hollis is used to getting compliments, sure, but for some reason your drunken, unfiltered honesty is having a strange effect on him. He clears his throat, forcing himself to sound unimpressed again. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?” he grumbles, pretending to be annoyed, but his mouth is twitching with the urge to smile. You just grin in response, clearly not taking his feigned annoyance seriously. You continue watching him intently, your eyes raking over his profile with a mixture of curiosity and drunken adoration. Hollis can feel your gaze on him, making him all too aware of just how closely you're looking at him right now. It makes his cheeks hot, his hands gripping the steering wheel tighter as he tries to shake off the way your eyes make him feel. He clears his throat again, looking for a distraction. “We're almost there, drunky.”

“Hey aren’t you drunk too?” You ask. Hollis scoffs, his eyes briefly flicking to yours. He's trying to act like he's completely unaffected by the situation, like your drunk behavior and the way your gaze is currently fixed on him isn't turning him into a damn mess right now. “I had like, half a drink,” he mutters, his voice low and gruff. “Not even a buzz. I don't get wasted and end up crying over sandwiches, you know.” I tilt your head a little. “I think you need more drinks. At my house I have drinks and we can have our own party!” I exclaim in excitement not thinking of logistics. Hollis snorts, shaking his head in disbelief at your drunken logic. He should be annoyed at the suggestion, but he can't help but find your carefree attitude entertaining (and kind of adorable). “Really? You’re inviting me to a drunken after-party at your place?” he retorts, amusement glittering in his eyes as he glances over at you. “And what if I have better things to do?” You just smile. “Hehe no you don’t..” Hollis laughs, shaking his head at your confident response. It’s crazy how the filter in your brain seems to disappear when you're drunk—you've just gone and declared that he's got nothing better to do than party with you at your place. The way you’re staring at him like he’s already said yes does something to his ego, making him feel way too damn pleased with himself right now. Damn, he’s a cocky idiot. “Yeah? And how do you know that?” I pretend to think about it. “I am better. Duh.” Hollis snorts again, his expression growing cocky as he casts a sidelong look at you. You’re so damn sure of yourself right now, and it’s both entertaining and kind of adorable. He can't resist getting a little playful, just for the fun of it. “Oh, is that right?” he retorts, raising an eyebrow. “You think you’re the better company, huh?” You not eagerly. “I’m your favorite and I’m your best friend and you love me and I love you and we can fun together..” you babble on. Hollis nearly laughs out loud at your drunken rambling, his heart doing a little flip at the way you casually declare yourself as his favorite and his best friend. You’re such a goddamn mess right now, but somehow you manage to say things that hit him right in the chest, leaving him torn between wanting to laugh and wanting to pull over and kiss you senseless. “Yeah, you’re definitely drunk,” he mutters, trying and failing to sound unaffected. “Who let you have this much alcohol, huh?” You smile and bite your lip. “Me babe. I make the rules.” You keep spitting out words getting closer and closer to trouble. 'Babe'—you just called him 'babe', and for some reason it's making his heart do flips in his chest. “You make the rules?” he taunts, his lips turning up in a smirk. “Are you sure about that, babe?” You can’t help the way your body warms at the pet name. “Mmhmm……..I’m hungry…” you say remembering your quest for subway. Hollis can't help but laugh at your suddenly changing focus. Your drunken brain is bouncing from one topic to the next like it's on some kind of rollercoaster ride. “We’re almost there,” he reassures you, his voice taking on a hint of tenderness despite himself. “You’ll get your damn sandwich in like five minutes, alright?”

“You’re my best boy…” You hum and rest your head on his arm. Hollis scoffs and shakes his head, pretending to be annoyed. “Yeah, yeah, I'm your best boy,” he mutters, the words coming out a bit too fond and affectionate for his liking. He quickly clears his throat, trying to mask his emotions with his normal cool demeanor. “You’re just a big clingy baby when you’re drunk,” he teases, sneaking a glance at you. You look at him with hearts in your eyes admiring every detail of him. The way his eyes focus of the road, his hands on the wheel, the way his hair falls. “Holli..?” You call him quietly. Hollis glances over again as you speak, his gaze softening involuntarily at the sound of his name falling from your lips. He's a sucker for the way you say his name like that. “Yeah?” he responds softly, his voice gruff but gentle. “Thank you..” you mumble. Hollis cocks an eyebrow at your sudden gratitude, taken aback by the sincere tone in your voice. He steals another glance at you, finding you looking up at him with those big eyes and that damn puppy-like expression on your face. Damn, you’re killing him with this sappy, drunk version of you. “For what?” he asks, half-expecting you to come up with some ridiculous drunken logic to explain yourself. “Everything..” Hollis was always there for you and he truly was your best friend. He did so much for you and you did the same for him. You had a lot of gratitude and love for him outside of your feelings for him. Your drunk self has this way of being too damn sincere, too open with your words in a way that makes it impossible for him to play it cool. “Y/n...” he starts, voice rougher than intended, “you’re so wasted right now.” It sounds like an accusation but there's no real heat behind it—just quiet disbelief at how effortlessly you unravel him. “No not really…I mean it though…” you say softly hoping he’ll believe you. “You’re drunk,” he repeats, his voice taking on a teasing edge as he glances over at you again, “You have no idea what you're saying right now.” You shake your head. “Maybe im drunk but i mean it..” Hollis rolls his eyes, torn between believing you and telling himself you're just rambling nonsense. Something about the way you say it, though, sounds… sincere. Genuine. “Bullshit,” he mutters. “I swear it.”

He pulls up to subway and you’re very clearly not in the right headspace to be going inside a subway. He leave you in the car because he knows your order. You sat in the car listening to some music and trying to stay awake. He comes back a few minutes later, sandwich in hand. He doesn't say anything as he climbs into the car and hands it to you, but his grip on the steering wheel is tight again. The silence between y’all isn’t awkward… more tense than anything else. “Eat,” he mutters finally, “then I'm taking you home.” You most certainly don’t need to be told twice. You take the sandwich and practically start inhaling it. “Thank youu….mmmm want some?” Hollis chuckle and shakes his head. “Nah. I’m good.” You keep eating as the two of you sit in the subway parking lot. “Do you know what time it is? Time for my amazing exclusive after party.” You speak up before you continue to eat. Hollis rolls his eyes. “Are you seriously still on that whole after-party idea?” he mutters, feigning annoyance and hoping you can't hear the way his heart rate just spiked a little, lucky him you’re wasted and oblivious. “Yes. You are coming and you will have drinks and we will have a lot of fun.” Hollis sighs, shaking his head as he tries to fight the smirk pulling at his lips. “You're still drunk, dumbass,” he grumbles. Despite his best efforts, the corners of his lips are quirked up a bit. “And you’re not and you need to have fun and I am fun.” You keep eating as he pulls out of the parking lot and drives to your place. He glances over at you, watching as you happily munch on your sandwich. “There better be good alcohol then,” he mutters, surrendering to your idea with a huff. “Oo I wonder what there is..” You can’t remember which bottles you finished and which ones you hadn’t. He can just imagine the mess he's getting himself into—and he's secretly kind of looking forward to it. “You don’t even know what you've got at home, dumbass?” he teases, unable to resist poking at you. “I don’t remember. I’m sure it’s good. I have great taste.” You ponder trying to think straight and remember what you bought. Hollis raises an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. The way you say that with such goddamn confidence—like it's the most obvious fact in the world—makes him scoff. “Your taste is questionable if we're being honest,” he mutters, shooting you a sidelong glance. “But sure. Let's see what kind of 'great' liquor I'm getting roped into tonight.” You already know exactly how you want the night to go only now that you’re too intoxicated to think properly you might actually act on it.

oh gosh i have SOOOO many

@voidatelier @pastfixated @magegodmode @glitterslushi @hollisedd @2bun22 @jjscoquette @swagonometryfr @angelbbyunicorn @yallnotogso @2godboy22 @qiyokuliife @luvvconceal @kingoveverything @y-yasminn @mkgeewife @cemetarywoman @princesspiaa @vxmpirekiss @preachersniecee @ooooooomggggggggg @ethereq @rommulating @bri22cool44youu @hollisluvr69 @hollislover132 @misakemi @2autumndrunk @myloveissocool @fucknatesib @sacrfcialambbb @romansbbg @clingir @perfgirlnextdoor

hm: thankyouforrain

Part One

★ 2Hollis x Reader

Summary: You and Hollis had been friends for years, so when he invited you to Lollapalooza to watch his set, you obviously said yes. A candid photo of the two of you starts blowing up, and it doesn't take long for people to start speculating who you are, and more importantly what you are to Hollis. But the comments are starting to get to you, and more importantly, they're starting to get to him.

(p.s please send requests!)

word count: 2.2k☆

You bit anxiously at your lip, toying with the almost bloody flesh between your teeth as you attempted to ground yourself. 

It was just a photo. One stupid, blurry photo. That was all it took to leave you in shambles, sitting anxiously in your hotel room. You looked out the window, eyes first finding the unique city skyline before falling lower to the crowds of people vacating the festival. More than likely one of them was responsible for the chaos taking place.

You weren’t sure if Hollis had seen yet. Afterall, he’d been busy with the festival. Being an artist at Lollapalooza didn’t just mean playing his set. He had spent the better part of the day networking, meeting fans, doing silly interviews you were sure you’d see later, and getting ready for the actual show.

It was Friday night, the two of you were planning to hit the town once he got back from the festival. Neither of you were in Chicago often, and it was your idea to take full advantage of the clubbing scene. Originally, Hollis had recommended going to a lolla aftershow, but for once, you just wanted to go somewhere with him and feel normal. 

No ducking into bathrooms or trailing behind as fans approached him. No acting invisible whenever a camera came out, or pretending you had no idea who he was.

The two of you had been best friends for ages. You remember when he first started mixing beats on his shitty laptop, and now you were watching him perform in front of thousands of people. You felt incredibly proud, but you couldn’t help the sinking feeling knowing that things would never be the same as before.

One day he’d get too busy, start running with a different crowd, or maybe staying out of the spotlight would be far too hard for you. When he first started blowing up, the two of you had made the conscious choice to keep you out of any of his content. 

Growing up near the industry, he knew how people would react. Once you started showing up in posts and in public, you would never know another day of peace. Perverts would stalk you, and jealous fangirls would want you dead. He didn’t want his choice to make an impact on you.

Holli: leaving the grounds now, omw :)

You sighed at the message, closing out of the app and opening tiktok where you’d first seen the photo.

It was blurry, your silhouettes obscured by the movement as the two of you raced past the camera. You remembered that moment, the two of you had spent too long wandering around and were rushing to get to the Olivia Rodrigo set. Out of fear of losing you in the crowd, he had reached back to grab your hand, holding it tight as the two of you made your way across the grounds.

Hollis was looking back, what looked like a smile spreading across his face. Of course you knew he was actually berating you for how slow you moved, but it sure didn’t look like it. Through a blur of your hair, a good majority of your face was visible, so it wouldn’t be impossible for some dedicated fan to find out your identity.

“Anyone know who this girl is with Hollis? I don’t think its crew she’s in normal clothes”

The caption was simple, but it opened the flood gates for people to speculate. Despite your better judgement you opened the comments, curious about what people had to say.

“It’s definitely him, he wore the same outfit in an interview earlier”

“What do you mean 2hollis might have a gf I’m going to be sick”

“Omg look at the way he’s looking at her”

“Did we just get soft launched?”

“could be a fan, but the way they’re standing together… idk man”

Girlfriend? Were they being serious? You and Hollis were friends, you always had been. He wasn’t looking at you in any kind of way, the comments were being crazy.

You scrolled, hoping to get away from the accusatory comments before it started getting to your head. To your shock, you were met with another picture of you. It was the two of you in the pit at Olivia’s set. Your face was much darker, hidden by the night sky. But, it was so clearly Hollis. His arms were wrapped around your waist, your body pulled close against his.

He was just trying to keep you from getting swept up in the crowd. People were pushing and shoving, and he was just doing the right thing. Yet somehow this photo looked even worse. 

The comments were already on it, tagging the creator of the previous post, and spamming the picture of the two of you from earlier.

Suddenly, the hotel door opened, and in walked Hollis. He hadn’t had time to change, and his shoes and jeans were still caked in mud from walking around the festival grounds. He looked exhausted, but his lips still curved in a stupid grin when he saw you sitting on the bed.

“Hey, miss me?” His voice was airy, and he spoke to you like he always had. He truly had no idea.

“People are so stupid,” you groaned, flopping backwards on the bed as he took off his shoes.

He started to respond, but instead of explaining you merely thrust the phone with the picture towards him. He took it quietly, taking a seat next to you. His eyes jumped around the screen as he pulled open the comments.

“It was going to happen one day or another,” he shrugged, moving to change out of his dirty clothes, tossing your phone back onto the bed.

“Are you serious? Why are you being so chill!” Your mouth dropped open, and you shot him the sharpest look you could muster.

Hollis let out a slight laugh as he moved to the bathroom, wanting to take off the black paint smeared across his face.

“Did you even read the comments?” You huffed, standing up to follow him.

“I saw them, are we still going out tonight? Should I shower first?” He wiped at the makeup, not even sparing a glance towards your phone.

“People think I’m your girlfriend!” You sputtered, eyes wide in horror.

“That’s what bothers you about this situation? Not that people took your photo without permission, or you got thrust into the spotlight, but that people think we’re dating?” His eyes met yours in the mirror as he set down the towel, laughing softly as he looked away.

You sputtered, attempting to find the appropriate words to respond to the situation. Was he not bothered by the allegations? So much of his fan base was obsessed girls wishing they had a chance with him, would this not tank his brand?

“Lets stay in tonight. I can have some drinks brought up to our room, and we can just chill. It sounds like the last thing you wanna do right now is be spotted with me,” at the last sentence he poked at your shoulder, teasing you like he did so often.

You wanted to argue, to reiterate to him how big of a deal this actually was. But, instead you nodded, turning to leave the bathroom. You grabbed your backpack off the plush seat in the room, unzipping it to rummage for something comfier to change into. You pulled out your remaining outfits for the weekend, setting them on the bed so you could get a clearer view of your bag. Your eyes widened as you pulled out the final item, a pair of cotton shorts.

Somehow in your frenzy of packing, you had managed to forget a complete pair of pajamas. It wasn’t a problem last night, you had ended up crashing still in your outfit from the festival. In theory you could sleep in the shorts and your top from earlier, but you felt so gross and sweaty you couldn’t imagine doing so.

“Hollie,” you hummed, beginning to shove the clean clothes back into your bag.

“I forgot my pajamas,” you turned towards him as you said it. You weren’t sure what you expected him to do, but whatever he could come up with was probably better than your plan.

“You want a shirt?” He replied, grabbing a white t-shirt from the top of his bag. He threw it at your face, which you caught with relative ease.

You whispered a thank you, before turning away from him to get changed. You had changed in front of him a million times, but you still weren’t comfortable with him seeing you. You weren’t shy by any means, whenever you got ready with your girl friends you never gave them the same treatment. Maybe it was because he was a boy, or maybe it was because he was Hollis. You weren’t sure, but either way you shielded yourself until you were clothed in his shirt and your shorts.

“What are we drinking tonight?” He smiled as he grabbed for the hotel phone, picking up the laminated menu sitting beside it.

“Let’s do wine, I don’t wanna deal with the hard liquor hangover,” you mumbled as you crawled into the bed.

There was only one bed, which had never been a problem in the past. You had grown up having sleepovers, and the two of you have shared much smaller spaces. But it felt different this time. Maybe it was the comments getting to your head, or the fact that you were wearing his clothes. Whatever the cause, when he eventually joined you, holding a bottle of wine and two glasses, you couldn’t help but shiver.

The two of you fell into a lull of conversation, aided by the glasses of white wine you continued to throw back. It was pleasant and it was normal, until it wasn’t.

“We should read the comments,” his lips pulled into a wide grin, face flushed by the alcohol as he reached for your phone. You rushed to take it back from him, but backed off for fear of spilling your glass all over the clean linen sheets.

“Hollie that’s not funny,” you groaned, using your free hand to cover your face.

It was too late. Hollis knew your password, and he had opened the app before you could protest any further. It didn’t take much scrolling before he found a post about the two of you. It was the blurry picture, with a similar caption inquiring about your identity.

“I wanna see what’s got you all worked up, you never geek out on me like this,” you could see his eyes illuminate white from the comment section, and you knew it was too late to stop him.

He read the comments outloud, brushing past the hoards of comments calling you his stylist or photographer. Along with the bigger number commenting on his looks and glazing the hell out of him. Hollis continued scrolling, casually reading ones he found particularly interesting.

“I would kill to be looked at the way Hollis looks at her,” he read off, before turning to gaze at you.

“How do I look at you?” Hollis tilted his head down, looking up at you through his lashes. His gaze was low, mouth parting slightly, trying to feign a seductive glance.

You shoved him away, a giggle escaping your lips. “God you’re so stupid, how much have you drunk?” He would never act like this normally, not without the presence of comments to egg him on.

“You really think dating me is that gross?” He scoffed, before pushing you away. “You know how many people would kill to be in your place right now? In a bed with 2Hollis, wearing his shirt?”

His voice was low, almost a whisper. Worst of all, that stupid seductive look hadn’t left his face.

“You know how many people would kill to be in my place? Laying next to a beautiful girl, wearing their shirt?” Hollis reached forward, fingers toying with the hem of your shirt. You felt your cheeks heating up, mouth slightly parted as you tried to find the right words to say.

You and Hollis didn’t have that kind of friendship. Most of the time he was ripping on you, poking fun at everything you did as if it would kill him to give you a compliment. You’re not sure he had ever called you beautiful. At best, he might say you look decent, or that he liked your outfit, not that he liked you.

“Maybe that’s why I didn't post you. Didn’t want other people seeing,” he cleared his throat, turning to set the wine bottle on the nightstand. “Didn’t want someone else to have a chance.”

“Hollie, you’re way too drunk. We have to get up early tomorrow,” you say as you sit up, pushing the tangled covers off of your body.

You were going to get him some water, and act like this had never happened. Your stomach felt warm, in fact your entire body felt warm. Maybe it was butterflies, or just the liquor settling deep into your body. Either way you needed to calm down, the two of you had to coexist for the rest of the festival.

You could hear Hollis groan, mumbling something about how you needed to come back. He was just drunk, and those words would never have left his mouth if a stupid fan hadn’t snagged that photo. 

It wasn’t true, you weren’t dating. 

You didn’t want to be dating.