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Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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when he starts going through my phone and opens tumblr
thinking about perv roommate! hollis who finally gets a taste of his sweet girl & doesnât want you to leaveâŠ
âŠ"i'm serious." he says as he sets the perfect rhythm, steady and deep enough to make your eyes roll. he knows heâs gotten you exactly where he wants when he feels you clench around his cock. "you gonna miss this? you gonna miss me making this pretty pussy come over and over?" heâs coaxing. using his mind numbing strokes to his advantage. he was going to get you to stay, whether you agreed consciously or not.
you whine extra loud, the sound bouncing off the tall windows, your hands gripping his now red shoulders. "oh my god, holli! thatâsâthat's not fair."
"all's fair in love and sex, sweetheart. you signed up for this, for me, for us." he whispered as he leaves a trail of wet kisses on your collarbone, your chest, the soft skin just below your ear where he knows youâre especially sensitive. "you know i'm right. you know you don't want to leave."
"but i have a life in atlanta, i travel, i work. i canât justâfuck." you try to rebuttal, but it comes out weak, like you're trying to convince yourself more than hollis. yet its not working. nothing matters, nothing at all except the tingly feeling of your body betraying your mind, slipping away into that oh-so satisfying headspace.
"you have a life here too." he replys, observing your figure before pulling out, just to watch you, just to see the frustration start to spread across your face. "you have me. you have my house, my bed, my arms. you have everything you neâ."
heâs cut off by another whine ripping from your throat as he filled your being once again. itâs overwhelming, so full you couldâve sworn you could feel his large presence in your chest. he responds to your sounds, his pace quickens as he feels himself start to lose his mind inside you. he starts to ramble, incoherent, possessive nonsense. heâs close and you can tell. like clockwork, you cue the squeeze, trapping him tight as you chase your own ticket to pleasure.
finally, the tension in the room breaks. the taste of paradise never felt so sweet and hollis followed right behind you. âyou justâŠyou just donât seem to fully understand, baby. iâm everything you need, everything youâd ever want. i have it. i am it.â he grunts as he spills. deep and obviously unprotected. but thatâs tomorrowâs problem, isnât it?
©holliwoodprincess
niche things i think roman would do as your boyfriend:
suggestive, fluff, established relationship, being high?
âą if he smokes late at night and gets the munchies. you're coming with him to a gas station, even if you're asleep. he would wake you up.
"what?.." you grumble. he stands there like a child who just woke their mother up cause they vomited everywhere. "come with me to get snacks" you thought about turning over and going back to sleep. you actually did turn over and ignore him but he flopped on top of you so with a groan you get up and walk to the nearest convenience store.
âą he lets you play with his hair, style it, all of the above. but if you give him an actual style, he's not keeping it in.
âą nobody can smoke around you, not even him. if you're in the car while one of the guys are smoking ALL the windows are going down. conceal called you over to ask you something backstage and when roman saw him smoking, while talking to you. he lost it. "one fucking rule." he muttered, hitting the back of ryan head, taking the joint and twisting it under his shoe.
âą it had become a routine for you and roman to sneak away to the tour bus, towards the end of hollis' shows. you guys would makeout, but you must have lost track of time.
straddling his lap, hands braced against his chest. then the sound of muffled voices and laughter, hit your ears first. "wait-" you breathed, trying to move off his lap. he smirked hands stationed on your hips to keep you down. "relax" normally he would try and break apart to but lately he's been into either pissing you off or embarrassing you.
the door the bus had swung open, "serious dude?" while some others were laughing. your face burned hot, hair tousled from where his fingers had been. meanwhile he was leaned back against the small couch, smug with a lazy grin and half-lidded eyes. the guys going by one by one dappinng him up.
âą pt.2 of roman loving to annoy you. as always they are blasting music obnoxiously loud, so it was to no surprise when you fell asleep on the bus. roman took your hands holding them loosely in his own moving them side to side like you were dancing. you stirred, eyebrows pinching together. you blinked your eyes open halfway, to see him grinning, holding your hands up like he was a puppet.
your annoyed groan was drowned out by the music "romanâstop" voice still raspy with sleep. yanking your arms away from him. that just made ryan shake your shoulders. "c'mon sleeping beauty, wake up" you swatted at him "leave me alone" but roman didn't. he nudged his knee into your leg, then turning the music up impossibly louder. you flipped him off "aw love you too" roman teased.
âą pt.3 of him annoying you? if you don't understand that's his fav thing to do. so lets say you're going somewhere, he won't put on a shirt. it's acceptable in private, cause who are you to complain? but it gets to a point. you were going out to a party and he insisted he didn't need a shirt. you were going for a grocery store run and he wanted to come too. but he had NO shirt. you immediately sent him back upstairs to put on a shirt. but he shook his head, tight lipped "no, im comfortable" making you groan "i don't care roman you're not going out like that" so he grabbed a jacket and zipped it half way. "happy?"
âą if it's been an hour as in ONE singular hour and you don't reply to his text, he's gonna be hella dramatic. sighing loud until someone asks so he can reply "my girl don't love me anymore" shrugging it off. you never knew he did this until the guys told you about it. of course he denied it but it sounded too much like him.
OUT OF FRAME
2hollis x fem!reader smutshot ! mdni
about: your older brother is one of 2hollis closest friends. so when he invites him to his songwriting camp, you end up tagging along after recently getting into photography. your brother is ridiculously protective and barely lets you out of his sight. one evening, hollis casually says: "i'm borrowing your sister for a bit. we still need a few shots by the ocean." nobody thinks anything of it. after all, you're just the little sister.

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Heâs so full of love Iâm getting emotional
MY BOYFRIENDS A CRIMINAL! â Bf!nettspend x Gf!reader
information: After Gunners live, he drives recklessly to impress you and it ends up with him up in trouble with the cops. cw: illegal activities, intoxication, speeding, kissing masterlist taglist
Gunner tossed his phone onto the console next to him, the screen going black after he abruptly cut the live stream. He had spent the last twenty minutes carefully angling the camera, successfully keeping you completely out of the frame.
Now that the audience was gone, the quiet of the car settled between you. A slow, wicked smirk spread across his face as he looked over.
âAlright, ma,â he drawled, his voice low and vibrating with mischief. âYou ready to see how fast this baby can actually go?â
You let out a soft laugh, your chest tight with a mix of anticipation and the heavy, strong smoke lingering in the air. The haze slightly clouded your vision, making the streetlights outside bleed into long, neon streaks.
You knew this was incredibly stupid. You knew it was dangerous. But looking at the relaxed grip he had on the wheel and the fierce, protective spark in his eyes, you knew you trusted him with your life.
You leaned back and nodded, a quiet challenge in your voice. âFloor it.â
Gunnerâs eyes darkened. He slowly licked his bottom lip, giving you one last lingering look to make sure you were serious before turning his attention back to the dark stretch of asphalt ahead.
He slammed his foot down on the gas.
The engine roared to life, a powerful, guttural sound that vibrated straight through the floorboards and into your bones. The sudden acceleration threw your body hard against the leather seat. A breathless chain of laughs escaped your throat as the world outside became a dizzying blur.
Gunner glanced over at you, his smirk widening into a genuine grin as he drank in the sound of your laughter.
He started weaving through the light traffic, making sharp, aggressive turns and swerving around slower cars. He was chasing the high-pitched squeals and gasps that left your lips, feeding off your energy.
The music blaring from the speakers pulsed through the car, the heavy bass matching the frantic rhythm of your heart and only heightening the rush in your veins.
At one point, you let your head fall back and closed your eyes. With the weed heavy in your bloodstream, the sensation of speed morphed; it didn't feel like you were driving anymore. It felt like you were strapped into a rocket ship, hurtling through space.
Suddenly, the car swerved violently. Gunner took a sharp turn, and the passenger-side wheels clipped the curb hard enough to make the whole vehicle bounce.
Your eyes flew open, your fingers instantly digging into the leather seat. You whipped your head toward him.
Gunner let out a throaty snort, completely unbothered. âWe good, ma. Just a littleââ
Before he could finish the sentence, the sharp, wailing shriek of a siren cut through the music.
Your heart instantly dropped into your stomach, the adrenaline rush turning ice-cold. Both of your heads turned slowly toward each other, the high evaporating in a split second.
âFuck,â Gunner muttered, the single word hanging heavily in the smokey air as flashing red and blue lights illuminated the back windshield, casting harsh, rhythmic shadows over his face.
Hesitantly, Gunner began to slow the car down, pulling toward the shoulder.
âYou know you could have lost them,â you whispered, your voice tight as you watched the patrol car close the distance behind you.
He shook his head, his hands gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. âYou want me to get booked for a felony chase, ma?â
You bit the edge of your thumb, taking a deep, shaky breath to settle the sudden fluttering in your chest. The police cruiser pulled up close behind, its headlights blinding in your side mirrors.
Feeling your anxiety, Gunner reached across the console. His bigger, warm hand closed over yours, squeezing tightly. âHey. I got you. You ain't do nothing wrong, ma.â
You squeezed back, looking at his profile. âIâm not worried about me,â you said softly.
His bottom lip twitched upward in a faint, grateful smile, but he shook his head, signaling you to drop it and stay calm.
The heavy thud of a car door closing echoed from behind. A male officer approached the driverâs side, his flashlight beam cutting through the smoke-filled cabin. He tapped aggressively on the glass, signaling for Gunner to roll the window down.
Gunner complied, letting the window slide down with a slow, agonizing crawl.
âDo you know what Iâm pulling you over for, son?â the officer asked, leaning down slightly.
Gunner didn't say a word. He just shrugged, his expression a mask of pure indifference.
The sheer audacity of it made you have to press your lips together to bite back a laugh.
âYou were going 150 in an 80,â the officer pressed, his tone hardening as he stared down at him. âDoes that sound familiar?â
Gunner huffed, looking straight ahead. âDoesn't ring a bell.â
You immediately turned your head toward the passenger window, half-amused by his stubbornness and half-annoyed that he was actively digging a deeper hole.
âLicense and registration,â the officer demanded, clearly done with the attitude.
You turned back to Gunner. He was already looking at you, a silent, brief look of warning passing through his eyes before he faced the cop again.
âSee, I don't got my physical license on me,â Gunner said, his tone entirely too casual. âI got my permit, though.â
The officerâs fingers tapped a harsh, irritated rhythm against the doorframe. âYou gotta be real fucking dumb to be driving around like that without a license on you.â
The condescending tone rubbed you entirely the wrong way. Before you could stop yourself, you leaned slightly toward the driver's side. âAnd you gotta be a real asshole to talk to someone like that.â
The officer paused, slowly ducking his head lower to peer across the seat and look at you properly. âWhatâd you say, sweetheart?â his voice dripped with patronizing authority.
Before he could get a proper look at you, Gunner shifted his weight, intentionally blocking the officerâs view of the passenger seat. âShe ain't a part of this. Just give me the ticket, man.â
The officer stared at Gunner for a long, tense moment. He looked back over his shoulder at his partner, who was waiting by the cruiser, then turned back and tapped the heavy plastic of his flashlight against the door.
âStep out of the car for me,â the officer commanded. âWeâre doing a vehicle search.â
Gunner let his head fall back against the headrest, a heavy, frustrated groan escaping his chest. âI don't got no weapons, man,â he tried to reason, his voice dropping into a tired, pleading drone.
âBased from the smell coming out of this car, youâre not only driving underage, but youâre doing it under the influence,â the officer countered, his hand already dropping to the handle. He popped the door open. âStep out of the car.â
Before the cop could even think about reaching in to grab him, Gunner swung his legs out and stood up, towering over the officer for a brief second before complying. The officer kept a firm grip on his shoulder, guiding Gunner back toward the cruiser and leaving him under the watchful eye of his partner.
A moment later, the driverâs side door of your car opened again, and the first cop reached across to unlock your door. He walked over, opened it, and gave you a firm, commanding nod. âYou too, sweetheart. Out.â
You stepped onto the gravel, the cool night air hitting your skin and sending a sudden shiver through you. The officer guided you over to the front hood of the patrol car where Gunner was already waiting. You leaned your lower back against the warm metal, trying to look as unbothered as possible.
The second cop stepped up to question the two of you, pulling out a small notepad. Every question he threw your way was met with short, drippingly sarcastic answers. Your heart was pounding, but the lingering high gave you a shield of pure attitude.
âWhere were you two heading in such a hurry?â the cop muttered, pen poised.
âYour mothers house,â you muttered under your breath, keeping your face completely blank.
Beside you, Gunnerâs shoulder shook. He let out a sudden, sharp cough to mask the laugh bubbling up in his throat.
The officer stopped writing, his jaw tightening as he slowly pinched the bridge of his nose. The silence stretched, the cop's temper visibly running shorter and shorter the more you spoke. Finally, with a heavy, irritated sigh, he snapped his notebook shut. âStay right here. Donât move.â
He turned on his heel and walked back toward Gunnerâs car to help with the search.
What felt like hours dragged by in agonizing, slow-motion minutes. The hum of the highway in the distance and the rhythmic, blinding flash of the cruiserâs lights became a dull, hypnotic blur. Beside you, Gunnerâs foot tapped a rapid, frantic rhythm against the dirt. The attitude heâd carried earlier was slowly chipping away, the obvious anxiety of a looming arrest running hot through his veins.
Finally, the searching officer walked slowly back toward the hood of the patrol car. His eyes were narrowed, squinting at the two of you as if trying to read a secret written across your faces. He stopped right in front of you, looking between your tense expressions.
âYour car is clean,â the officer announced, though his tone was heavy with suspicion. He knew something was off, but his hands were tied. âWait here.â
He turned and began walking back toward the driverâs side of his cruiser to run Gunner's information one last time.
The second the copâs back was turned, Gunnerâs eyes widened, and he whipped his head toward you in sheer, utter disbelief. He knew exactly what had been in that glove box.
You caught his frantic gaze and shot him a subtle wink.
âHow did you...â he started to whisper, his voice cracking slightly.
You raised a single finger to your lips, giving him a warning look to hush.
A breathless, unbelieving huff of a laugh escaped Gunnerâs lips. The tension in his shoulders melted away, replaced by a gaze so raw and full of adoration it made your chest ache. A slow, helpless smirk spread across his face.
âGod, I love you,â he murmured, his voice thick with a mixture of relief and genuine awe.
You couldn't help but smile back, the warmth spreading through you â but the moment was brutally cut short.
The officer returned from his cruiser, and this time, the metallic clink of steel handcuffs dangled from his fingers. Before either of you could react, the officer stepped up, grabbed Gunnerâs arm, and forcefully pulled his hands behind his back.
âYo, what the fuck?!â Gunner yelled, his body tensing as he tried to pull away.
Your smile instantly vanished. You took a sharp step forward, your hands clenching. âWhat are you doing? You said the car was clean!â
âYouâre currently being detained for reckless driving and operating a vehicle without a license,â the officer told him coldly, his knee pressing into Gunner's lower back to keep him still as he clicked the heavy metal cuffs around his wrists. âWeâll take you back to the station, and you can make a phone call from there.â
âThat's bullshit!â you exclaimed, step for step matching the officer as he began to lead Gunner away.
The officer didn't even look at you, offering only a dismissive shrug. âSorry, sweetheart. But donât worry, Iâm sure heâll be back home soon.â
The officer nudged Gunner forward, guiding him toward the rear door of the patrol car. Gunner groaned, his shoulders twisting awkwardly against the tight cuffs.
âHolâ up, holâ up,â Gunner grunted, digged his heels into the gravel and fighting back against the officer's forward momentum. He couldn't turn around fully, but his head was whipped back, his eyes locked onto yours with a sudden, desperate intensity.
You followed close behind, still cursing out the officer, your heart hammering against your ribs.
âGet in the car, kid,â the officer warned, his hand reaching for the top of Gunner's head to guide him into the cramped backseat.
âLet me kiss her first,â Gunner demanded, his voice cracking with a sudden, fierce urgency.
The officer paused. He looked at Gunner, looked at you, and let out a long, exhausted groan. He took his hands off Gunner's shoulders and took a step back, raising his hands in a gesture that said make it quick.
Gunner didn't waste a single second. He took a heavy step toward you, his chest nearly flush against yours.
With his hands bound behind his back, you instantly stepped into his space. You cupped his face between your hands, your fingers tangling in the soft, messy strands of his long, pinkish hair. You pulled him down, connecting your lips in a deep, chaotic, and desperately messy kiss.
Gunner let out a low, ragged groan into your mouth, his body subconsciously straining against the handcuffs as he tried to wrap his arms around you. The taste of him â smoky, sweet, and entirely familiar â flooded your senses. His tongue slid hungrily against yours, drinking you in as if he were trying to memorize the feeling to carry him through the night.
Before you were ready, a heavy hand clamped onto Gunnerâs shoulder, pulling him back.
Your lips parted with a soft, reluctant pop, your mouth pouting slightly at the sudden loss of warmth. You immediately took another step forward, chasing him to press one last, lingering peck to his lips before the officer firmly guided him down and forced him into the back of the car. The heavy door slammed shut with a definitive, chilling thud.
The officer turned back to you, dusting off his hands. âYou can drive the car?â
You swallowed the lump in your throat and nodded softly. âYes.â
âTake it straight home. Go the speed limit. Donât let me catch you around here again,â he ordered, before walking around to the driver's side and sliding into the cruiser.
You stood frozen on the shoulder of the dark road, crossing your arms tightly across your chest against the sudden chill. Through the heavily tinted glass of the patrol carâs rear window, your eyes locked onto Gunnerâs.
Even through the dark glass, you could see the faint, incorrigible smirk on his face. He blew you a playful kiss, followed by a slow, reassuring wink.
The cruiser pulled out, its tires kicking up a small cloud of dust as it drove off into the night, the red and blue lights finally dying down to a distant, receding glow.
And just like that, you were standing completely alone on the quiet, empty street.
You let out a long, shaky breath you felt like youâd been holding for hours, the adrenaline finally beginning to fade. You walked back over to Gunnerâs car, hopped into the driverâs seat, and shut the door, sealing yourself inside the warm, familiar cabin.
Reaching down, you slipped your hand down the front of your top and pulled the heavy, tightly wrapped baggie of weed out from where youâd tucked it safely inside your bra.
You looked down at it, a small, breathless laugh escaping your lips as you started the engine.
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