Mutuals Write Stuff - Tumblr Posts

Hey all!

So, on the LITG FF subreddit, we do a monthly prompt competition, as a lot of you know. For October, the prompt was to: write a fic with a spooky theme.

We had so many amazing submissions!

Here they are:

Fight for It by Queen of Boops on AO3

Sometimes, They Win by @sparxaf

Hello, You by @follies-fixture

All the Stories Are True by @aislinnstanaka

leaves of three by @daisybarks

Dead Men Tell No Tales by @longbobmckenzie

[Insert Spooky Title Here] by @thoracicorchid

They’re all great, so here’s my pitch to encourage you to read them and then pop on over to the sub and vote for one! I know we all appreciate your support. Thanks! 💕

You can vote here!

Eeeeeeeeeeeeee, ya'll ain't even ready. IT'S SO FREAKIN' GOOD!

Coming September 8, 2022…

Season 5 got you throwing your phone at the wall every week? Hopefully this will help! First chapter of an in-villa Bobcas fic drops tomorrow!

Thanks so much to @sparxaf for the poster 💕

Bless you. Bless you dammit.

At long last, it's here! I felt like we needed a chaptered fic for these two, and the few fics we have for them are usually AUs. Once the idea got in my head of how their villa journey could go, it was just begging to be written, so here we are!

Bobby, meet Lucas - Chapter 1

Summary:

She beckons him over to her, and he swallows as he takes a step forward, his feet feeling like lead. "Bobby, meet Lucas.” Lucas. Today is the day Bobby learns the name of his demise.

Rating: Mature (note: there will be smut... eventually)

Credit to @sparxaf who created this lovely header, and who was instrumental in the creative process for this fic!

Tag List: @mrsbsmooth (want to be tagged on updates for this fic and/or others? let me know! you can also subscribe on AO3 if you have an account!)

KERMIT FLAILING ARMS: YAAAAAAAAAAAAAY! This was so fun! Glad I could help, not that it needed much. @mrsbsmooth, you're a fantastic writer.

Read Part Of Your World on AO3 now

Seb’s stuck in the Disneyverse, and it goes about as well as you’d expect.

A huge and very special thank you to @mercedesdecorazon for her help and ideas for the music and characters in this story. You are an amazing support and I appreciate you so much!! Thank you as well to @sparxaf and my @litgwritersroom family for editing this and always pushing me to do better

Did I just-- did I just swoon over TIM?

I fucking did. I swooned over Tim. This is unacceptable. I DEMAND A SEQUEL.

Wait, what?

Yesterday

S1 | Tim/MC | 5500+ words | @mrsbsmooth

After Love Island, Tim really has it all; the career; the money; any girl in the world he wants ... well, maybe except one, the girl he left Love Island with, the person he once thought was the one. Not that he cares, he definitely doesn't care.

Tim pulled the BMW into the studio parking lot, and threw it in park the tiniest bit too early, drawing a grinding, crunching noise from the engine. 

“Whoops,” he muttered, as he grabbed his cap, scrambling out of the car. He left it parked slightly askew, knowing no one would trouble him about it. Not that he’d be bothered if they did.

His music switched from his car to his headphones, and he pulled them over his ears as he walked down the long, winding pathway and into the oversized glass building. He skipped through the samples he’d been sent, and yet again, nothing caught his interest.

None of the hooks were right. Or the pacing was off. Or the vibe… it just… it wasn’t… 

He sighed. He was only about twenty minutes late for the meeting. On time, really, considering how irregularly he even remembered they were on. 

But Talia probably wouldn’t mind. Probably. 

Talia had taken over as his manager when they left the villa, mostly because she knew the industry and Tim didn’t. And she was a very good manager. A great manager. Didn’t take shit from anyone. Didn’t seem to care if he was late for meetings with the studio execs. 

Except she’d been messaging him all morning.

Talia: Where the fuck are you holy shit

Talia: Get here NOW!!!!!!!

Talia: You are so fucked

Tim grimaced as he jogged up to the lift. 

Timye: mate im almost there chill out

He watched the three dots appear and disappear multiple times, as he walked towards the conference room he always met the execs in. Pushing open the glass door, head bowed down as his attention went back to his phone, he was already sprouting out an measly excuse to his lateness.

“Sorry, mates, had a bit of car trouble and I–”

He’d looked up and his heart sank into his stomach, catching sight of the jet black hair and poisoned stare that he’d hoped to never encounter again. 

Chelle.

“What’s she doing here?” He asked loudly to the room of people whose names he couldn’t be arsed to remember. 

Chelle rolled her eyes. “She just got signed to this label.”

Tim turned to the execs, his eyes finding the only one he remembered. “Nicky, you signed her? Seriously? Come on! I’m like, your biggest client!”

Nicky raised his eyebrow, frowning at Tim. “Well, we were going to discuss it at the last meeting… but you weren’t present.”

Tim frowned, taking his seat next to Talia. “I’m not happy about this.”

“Well,” Talia raised an eyebrow. “You’ll be a whole lot less happy once they tell you why you’re both in the same room right now.”

And boy, was she right. 

“Nope, not happening.” He shook his head. “Not a chance in hell.”

“Tim, you don’t exactly have a choice in the matter,” Nicky frowned. “You haven’t released any music in six months. You told us you’d have something done by February, and it’s March. We need a summer album release, and Chelle has assured us she can make it happen.”

“I can make it happen without her help.” Tim sneered, but Nicky just shook his head.

“Your reassurances won’t cut it anymore, we want something we can actually work with.”

Every fibre of his body was shaking with rage, yet the only sound that escaped him was a laugh. It was the sort of derisive sneer that could match one of Allegra’s, but he felt he’d outdone her with that one. 

“Typical,” he said, the word coming out with the unhinging of his jaw.

“What was that, Big T?” Chelle spat. Her fingernails drummed across the table at her impatience with him. Nothing new then. “If you’ve got something to say, why don’t you say it with your full chest, big man?”

He spun to look at her directly, finally looking her in the eye. The fire behind her brown iris matched the flames behind his own. “Fuck you, Chelle,” he said, barely managing to get it out through gritted teeth. “How’s that for saying it with my chest?

She replied with a short burst of humourless laughter, before cooing at him, “Aww, poor Tim. Is someone making you do work? Boohoo.” She leant forward in her chair towards him. “Let me play you a sad song on the world’s smallest violin.”

“Alright, that’s enough, you two,” Nicky intervened again. He was pointing between the pair of them like he was giving a stern talking to some naughty school kids. “You’re working together. That is final. Now grow up, and get to work. We expect to see some progress by the end of the week.”

Tim’s gaze was hot on Chelle’s and hers right back at him. He left the meeting in stony silence.

Tim was lying on his couch, feet on the coffee table that was strewn with ripped magazines and scrunched up beer cans from the night before, losing to Mason 3-0 in FIFA. The roll up was in the ashtray, smoky tendrils filling the room, mixing with the stale smell of the room.

“My fuckin’ controller’s acting up.”

“That’s the exact sort of bollocks a Toby would say.”

“Gretchen, stop trying to make ‘Toby’ happen,” Tim whined, not taking his eyes from the TV for a second, as he snapped back at Mason.

An intense encounter had them both too distracted to do anything more than purse their lips and mutter out some self encouragement.

He was mid play, eyes pinned to the telly, when the lift dinged. He ignored the noise, ignored the two steps of Talia’s heels entering the open living room, the sharp clang of those pinpoint heels unmistakable on his expensive and cold floor.

Hard to ignore though, was the piercing way his name ripped from her lips. “Tim.”

She sounded like his mum. Now wasn’t the time to take his eyes from the TV, so he kept on playing, replying back in the same tone. “Talia.”

He heard her sighing heavily and made no comment on it. “I came to check on you and ask about the samples Chelle sent you today?”

At the mention of her name, his brows furrowed and his stomach twisted into a knot. “Yeah, I got them.”

He offered nothing more. The silence lingered as Talia waited, only ending up disappointing herself as he stayed quiet.

“And did you listen to them?”

It bothered him that the clear frustration in her tone was so directly and responsibly at him, with him. The knot in his belly only doubled, cinching his own frustrations even tighter.

“Why would I?” He replied, his mind wandering further and further from the game. Mason just scored, assaulting the air with a jovial pump of his fist. Tim just scowled even harder. “Just tell her they’re shit and send them back.”

As the screen cut to black before showing a replay of Mason’s goal, Tim saw a flash of Talia’s own scowl being directed at the back of his head in the reflection of the telly.

It was followed by the storming of her heels on the hard flooring. Crossing the room to the TV, she heartlessly ripped the power cord out of the back of the Playstation, sternly maintaining her silence over Tim and Mason’s loud protests.

Mason was very much forgotten about as Talia rounded on Tim, finger wagging at him as she slowly and surely closed the distance between them. “You’re not a fucking soundcloud rapper any more, Tim. You have a record deal. And you need to put something on that record if you want to keep it.”

Mason waved over at Tim. “He’s a number one selling artist. Lad’s entitled to a break if he wants it -”

“He isn’t meant to be on a break right now, this is meant to be when he’s working on something like he promised!”

Shaking his head, Mason stood, cracking his knuckles. “Pfft, man, if Talia’s about to pitch a fit, I’m out.”

Talia glared at him, as Tim tried his best not to laugh. He reached out, slapping Mason’s hand as a farewell on Mason’s way to the lift. He turned to Talia, and sighed heavily, lamenting the silence he was about to break. 

“Ok, go ahead.”

“Don’t.” Talia said it with such heavy exhaustion, her eyes shutting alongside her weariness. She groaned in frustration, her eyes suddenly snapping open again as she continued, “Don’t fucking do that!”

“Do what?”

She threw her hands up around her head. “Every time I try to talk to you about it, you just make me feel like I’m lecturing you!”

“...But you are lecturing me.”

“You’re almost twenty-five, I shouldn’t fucking have to!” She pointed at him, the warning evident in her tone and bony finger. “I’m trying to fucking help you, Tim. You can’t just sit here and smoke your way to another number one!”

Tim looked away, and this time it wasn’t because he was pretending there was something more interesting. The knots in his stomach from earlier reached up to his chest, tightening beneath his ribs, squeezing him until he couldn’t breathe. But he could. He let out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding, his jaw unclenched.

His eyes were drawn to his phone screen flashing with another new notification on the table. Like always, another came through, and another notification after another notification. Text after text after text after fucking text from those who couldn’t get enough of him now that he was famous.

That’s all anyone ever wanted from him these days. A slice of the high life, a sliver of fame that came with knowing him. Ever since the show, they had gotten only more obvious; as his fame reached peak after peak, it only attracted more of the buzzards. 

A cushion connected with his head, spearing him out of his slump. He blinked up at Talia as she demanded, “Pay attention to me!”

“I don’t wanna.” He sulked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Well, then you should’ve hired someone you hated.”

“I did.” He teased, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, making sure she laughed. She did, tackling him and armed with more cushions. She hit him with them until he felt his bad mood lifting, and started smacking her back. All of a sudden, Talia dropped her weapons and wrapped him in a bear hug.

He settled against Talia, resting his head on her arm. The moment was still, like a single drop of clarity. He sighed heartily, realising that out of everyone and everything in his life right now, the only thing he wouldn’t dream about changing was Talia. 

“Thanks for coming round, Tar,” he mumbled. “I’m sorry I’m a shit.”

Poking his chin with a finger, she spun his head so he had no choice but to look at her. “Talk to me, dude. This can’t just be about Chelle. This has been going on since before you saw her the other day. I hate to say it, but someone’s got to. You’ve been off your game for way longer than this.”

“Oi, I’m not off my game?” He frowned at her, a little offended. A part of him knew she had a point, but she didn’t have to say it out loud.

She quirked a brow up at him. “Oh yeah? Is that why you’re pretending her samples are going to be shit?”

He scowled. Her tone was much gentler as she prodded him with her next words. “Or is it ‘cause you know they’re probably amazing, and that means you have to acknowledge the problem is you?”

Tim sat up, his limbs stiff and his movements awkward. He stared ahead at the black TV screen, his reflection a mush of something only vaguely reflective of being a person. Of being him. His expression hardened and he looked away. “I don’t have a fucking problem. She’s the problem. Not me.”

Exasperatedly, Talia asked, “Have you written anything in the last six months? A single word?”

Tim got to his feet. He stalked away from Talia, his back to her, holding his body rigidly. 

“Fuck off.” It wasn’t rude necessarily, just the sort of dismissive banter Talia had probably come to expect from him. It was meant to say ‘stop’, it was meant to mean ‘you’re pushing too much’. But it meant more than that to her.

“No, you fuck off. I knew you were having trouble. I knew it. Just tell me what’s wrong!? I can probably help!”

“Just fucking leave it, Talia!” he yelled. “Just go. Go away.”

“No! Tim, you can’t just tell people to leave whenever the conversation gets hard!”

He whipped his head up to Talia. She did not just fucking say that. He raised his voice even louder. “Seriously, just get off my fucking case!”

He pulled his shoes on, and threw on a baseball cap, pulling it low over his face. All the while Talia was at his back, a single decibel shy of losing her shit completely. 

Tim just grabbed his keys, and walked out the door. Talia was the only person he had left who would tell him the truth. 

But right now, the truth fucking hurt. 

He got out on the second floor, making his way to the fire stairs at the end of the hallway, and pushed the door open. The staff always left the alarm off for him, so he wouldn’t have to face the paparazzi who constantly waited for him at the front of his building; eager to see which model or socialite or soprano was the most recent to grace the expensive linen sheets on his bed.

It was colder than he expected, though he supposed it was March. He pulled his hood up over his cap, covering as much of his face as he could, as he made his way around the back streets. 

He missed home. He missed feeling like somewhere was home. Everyone knew him in Truro, so he couldn’t blend in there. Even here, in London, he couldn’t find peace. He couldn’t find a single place where he could just… exist. Just be. Be him.

Even now, as he walked down a side street of a city with 8 million people, he was getting sideways glances from waiters smoking cigarettes. Whispering to each other in a language he didn’t understand, but even so, he knew what they were saying. Because he heard the words every time. 

Something, something, something, “Big T.”

So he’d just pull his cap down lower, find a different side street to pace up and down, trying desperately just to get out of his own fucking way. 

The deadline was looming over him like a noose around his neck. 

He didn’t want to do it again. 

He didn’t want to be number one any more. 

He didn’t want to be bringing home models, spending every weekend at whatever party the record label deemed ‘insta-worthy’ enough for him to have to attend. Have his entire life curated for him. 

He didn’t even write his own fucking raps. He’d submit his lyrics, and they’d come back with ‘suggestions’ that shredded his words and replaced them with the marketable version. Sometimes, he’d get to pick a title. 

God, he was just so fucking tired of it.

His feet were the only thing he could focus on, as he nodded his head to the pounding rhythm of them hitting the pavement. He put his headphones on, and tried scrolling through the relentless list of new music he was supposed to be keeping up to date with. But he couldn’t even get through a single song. It was too much for him. 

It was all just so fucking fake. Like a pulse on a corpse, it was lifeless.

So he switched to the Beatles; the familiar melodies making him feel like he was back in Truro, on the bus, listening to the entire discography through a shared pair of earphones with… 

Fuck.

He leaned against the wall in the empty alleyway, lifting his face toward the little sunlight that managed to broker through the dull, grey clouds. Looking at those rays of sunshine, he swallowed hard, wishing he could bask in the glory of the sun’s efforts, but the clouds were too many, the grey had blackened the sky too much.

Talia was right. She always was. He hadn’t written anything in months.

He wasn’t sure he even knew how any more. The record label didn’t care about what he had to say anyway. They only cared about whether or not it would sell.

Tim looked back down at his phone, his eyes hovering over his email app, the four-figure notification counter making him want to throw it across the alleyway and smash it to pieces. 

But something made him tap the icon instead.

The very first name he saw sent his heart into his chest again. 

Michelle Masika

Subject: Sample.

His finger hovered over the attachment, but before he had a chance to press it, his phone rang. 

Chelle’s name and picture blared onto his screen, consuming everything, halting the never ending notifications and the incessant feeling of not doing enough in his stomach.

He wondered how she got his number. Was it someone at the record company, Talia, or had she been like him, and still had it saved all these years later?

He declined the call, and opened the contact record to look at the picture more closely. 

He must’ve forgotten to delete it when they broke up. It was them, in the early days. Wrapped in Christmas scarves and matching goofy woollen hats. He’d taken the picture right as they’d burst out laughing. 

It’d been a long time since someone had properly made him laugh. He used to. This photo showing up was almost spiteful, after everything they’d gone through. All the daggers she’d throw his way nowadays would never erase the look of love she held in the photographs.

His phone buzzed again in his hand, and her name flashed up once more. She knew he’d declined it. 

Tim rolled his eyes as he hit the green button. 

“What?” His voice was flat, empty, direct.

She scoffed. “God, you’re fucking rude.”

“What do you want, Chelle?”

“Come to the studio.”

“Why?”

“Just come, Tim,” she asked, exasperated, like she was pleading with a petulant child. She was softer as she said, “It’s worth it. Trust me.”

Earlier than he’d expected to, Tim pulled the BMW into the studio lot. He parked more slowly this time around, the amount of care in getting the spot perfect having absolutely nothing to do with the fact he was a little nervous to be in a room alone with her.

He walked down the dark corridor, doing his best not to engage with any of the staff. They busied on, making it clear that he really wasn’t all that special. Something he’d long since felt inside himself anyway. 

He pushed open the studio door to the booth he knew Chelle would be working in, and sat down at the table inside, content to mind his own business and hopeful that it would interrupt her work to fetch him.

Chelle bustled around at the panels. She held up a finger when he entered, telling him to wait. Tim rolled his eyes. After a few minutes, she pulled her headphones off and made her way over, sitting down at the table across from him.

But she said nothing. 

She just looked at him, and he looked blankly back at her. Eventually Chelle raised an eyebrow. 

“So if I know you, you haven’t listened to it out of spite.”

Tim just shrugged his shoulders. He glanced up, and found Chelle’s dark eyes studying him the same way they always had. 

But she said nothing. 

Chelle always had a way about her. A quietness. It’d always been one of the things he loved most about her when they were together. The way she’d just exist with him, while he closed his eyes and worked through whatever it was he was trying to figure out in his head. She’d slip her hand into his, and squeeze it tight, silently telling him she’d wait forever, until he was ready to talk. 

He’d never felt as safe as he had when he was with her. 

But the silence between them now just hurt. So he broke it. 

“You’re right. I didn’t.”

“What happened?” She asked, her voice soft, almost as if it was painful to see him like this. “I thought this was what you wanted?”

There was a long pause that was weighed down with gloom. He pictured the sky outside encasing that last drop of sun. “It’s not that simple.”

“Enlighten me then, Tim.” 

“Forget it,” he shrugged. “It’s fuckin’ dumb.”

Chelle folded her arms on the table in front of her. “I’m not going anywhere. Tell me. If you can’t tell Talia, you can’t tell your mates, tell me. Of everyone in the world, you know I’m the last person who’d speak to the media.”

Tim glared at her. “Whatever I thought I knew about you, I was wrong.”

He watched the faltering in her face as Chelle’s eyes dropped to the table, and a wave of guilt washed over him.

And the silence returned. 

They sat like that for a while, neither of them wanting to start, but silently begging the other not to let it go.

Tim heard her breath catch a few times, and he almost spoke, too. 

“You know why I did it,” she whispered. Her voice was quiet. Shaky, but determined. Again, he marvelled at the self-assurance that never wavered within her, the perfect mirror to the crumbled sense of his own self-worth.

Shaking his head, his lips were pursed in a thin line. “No. I still don’t,” he spat. “We fought, I woke up, and you were fucking gone. Just gone.”

Her breathing hitched, catching in her chest. 

She stared him down. “You know why.” 

Every word was punctuated with its own seething menace.

“Because you got cold feet,” he said, throwing the harsh words in a soft tone, letting them brew in derision.

“Tim, we were twenty-two.” Her brows knitted together, her mouth pulled into a grimace of some desperation. “Twenty-two is too young to get married.”

The air conditioning must have switched on, because the room suddenly felt icy. He pressed his nails into the palms of his hands, the mild pain of it a welcome distraction from the pain that he could taste at the back of his throat.

“It wasn’t too young for me,” he whispered.

It was just as raw as when she’d turned him down. The look of panic on her face. The fear. 

It still hurt. It hurt so much.

“We could’ve talked about it,” she said. “But you were so angry when I said it was too soon, and you just…”

“... Talked about it?” One half of his face screwed up as he met her gaze again. “You didn’t exactly make it easy for me to talk to you about it?”

She looked like she was about to cry. “I wasn’t the one screaming.”

“Chelle, you left.”

“You told me to.”

“You were supposed to stay.”

“You were supposed to come after me.”

The silence that fell was the loudest he’d ever heard. He was hanging on by a mere thought. 

“I didn’t know you wanted me to.”

His voice rattled like the front door had that morning; the very first thing he heard before his life slowly began falling apart. 

He could see it as if it was right in front of him. The door of their old place, with its cracked window pane and slightly-loose handle. But try as he might, he’d never be able to reach it; he’d never turn the handle and follow her out into the freezing morning. 

Because he never did. Never even thought to do it until now.

And it all felt so obvious. 

“I was so scared, Tim. You were just starting out, and the parties were starting to get more and more frequent, and I just… I was so scared. That you were just going to get sick of being tied down, and would want to go off and be–”

“--Be what? Be a fuckin’ celebrity?” 

The sudden volume of his voice surprised him almost as much as it surprised her. 

“I dunno, you went on fucking Love Island. People don’t generally go on that to keep a low profile, Big T.”

He clenched his fist, and gritted his teeth. 

“I didn’t go on the show to become a fucking celebrity. I wanted to be able to make music full time. The celebrity part of it is the part I fucking hate. The parties I go to, the people I hang out with, the music, the lyrics, none of it’s me. It’s all fake.”

“And I suppose the millions of dollars and endless stream of women is fake, too?” She spat.

The silence resumed, much more tense than before.

“Chelle, after you left, I lost every bit of motivation I had. I just did whatever they told me to do. I haven’t written anything worth releasing in years, Chelle. The stuff I release is completely made for me. This… the shit I’ve been doing? It’s not music. It’s a fuckin’ lie.”

He looked up at her, and saw something in her dark eyes that he hadn’t seen from anyone in a long, long time. 

Care.

And not just for sales. Not for what they could get from him. 

For him.

“I know.”

She took a deep breath, glancing down at her own hands. 

“I know you used to rap about cars and bitches for fun in the shower. But I also know that that wasn’t what you wrote when it actually came down to the wire. I remember being on the receiving end of your frantic phone calls before your phone died. The ones after your walks?”

Tim smiled a little. “Yeah, ‘cause I knew I wouldn’t be able to write it down fast enough before I forgot it.”

Chelle chuckled slightly. “And you made me put it on speaker, and we used the voice to text on my laptop to try and dictate it all?”

He couldn’t help but smile a little wider at that. “And it always ended up recording the words wrong, and we’d be up until 2am pissing ourselves laughing and trying to remember what it was supposed to say?”

Chelle’s eyes were big, sparkling with the passion that used to light up his entire universe. “Tim… that shit you used to write… it was fucking poetry. It was beautiful.”

Tim blew a raspberry, scoffing slightly. “Whatever.”

“Tim,” Chelle reached across the table for his hand, but he didn’t move to meet hers. She placed her hand on his forearm instead, squeezing it gently. “It’s why I’m here.”

He furrowed his brow at her. “What do you mean?”

“You’re everywhere, now. Every time I turn on the radio they’re playing your songs. Every time I turn on the TV it’s an interview with Big T, talking about your creative process and your inspirations. Every billboard, every conversation, every kid with their headphones on too loud… It’s your music. But not one fucking bar of it is you.”

His shoulders tensed defensively, 

“So, what, you’re just here to help me? The giant paycheck doesn’t appeal to you whatsoever?”

She raised her eyebrows. “They didn’t tell you?”

He furrowed his in return. “Tell me what?”

Chelle laughed. “I get paid a percentage. Nothing upfront. Me getting paid depends on how well your album does.”

Tim furrowed his brow in confusion. He couldn’t wrap his head around why the fuck she would do that. She hated him. She’d screamed it at him with her gaze the second he’d walked into the conference room. “So… wait. You want me to do all my own raps? And try and make it a number one?”

Chelle let her head drop to the table with a dramatic groan. “Tim, you are seriously not getting this. I don’t care if it’s a number one. I just want to watch an interview where you actually believe a single word of what you’re saying.”

And like that, the silence returned. The air conditioning sending a chill through his skin. It must’ve done for her, too, because she shivered. He sighed, and pulled his jacket off, handing it to her like he’d done a million times before. Chelle looked a little surprised, but she took it, slipping her arms into the sleeves and pulling it around her.

He tried to stare at literally anything else in the room except the sight of her in his jacket, knowing what it would do to his heart if he let himself look.

He blew another raspberry. “Alright. Fine. I’ll listen to your fuckin’ track.”

Chelle nervously stood, walking over to the sound board. She passed him a pair of headphones, and gently slipped her own on, but said absolutely nothing. The imaginary noose around his neck tightened as he slipped the headphones on. What if he couldn’t think of anything? What if even her music wasn’t enough? 

What if he really was completely fucking broken? 

As if sensing his anxiety, Chelle reached for his hand. 

And this time, he gave it to her. 

As his fingers brushed against hers, he was worried she’d be able to feel his heart racing through his palms. But the familiar weight of her hand in his flooded him with a reassuring wash of calm that lifted the world from his shoulders. 

How did she still have this effect on him?

A deep, low drum beat started. A slow, low-fi synth curled through his body, and every inch of his skin blazed with goosebumps. His lips parted slightly, as the deep melody started. There was something so familiar about it. He started humming along to the melody, trying to place it, and the words started forming in his head. 

Suddenly, I'm not half the man I used to be,

There's a shadow hanging over me,

Oh, yesterday came suddenly.

Why she had to go, I don’t know, she wouldn’t say.

I said something wrong now I long for Yesterday.

Tim turned to Chelle to comment on it, but stopped. 

She was biting the inside of her lip, nervously shuddering despite his thick jacket wrapped around her. And God, did she look beautiful in it.

Her dark eyes were looking up into his, a little glassy, almost as if the song meant as much to her as it did to him. The beautiful synth beat was filling him with something he hadn’t felt in years. 

Words.

But in that particular moment, there wasn’t a single one of them he wanted to use.

With the smallest movement, he turned his body to hers, and dropped her hand, curling it inside the warm fabric of his jacket, and around her waist. Chelle’s eyes fluttered closed as she tilted her head back.  

And he kissed her.

He kissed her for what felt like decades. Lifetimes. Whatever was longest. And it was freeing, like everything was falling back into place. Every muscle in his body relaxed as he melted into her, her body falling into his hands as he pulled her closer. The world was righting itself, jolted back onto its course. The feel of her waist under his hands. The warm flick of her tongue as she stroked her fingers through his hair. The way her lips felt on his, music pulsing through their ears, just like they did on the bus, back when everything was easy. Back when everything made sense. 

It had never occurred to him before that it wasn’t Truro that made him feel like this.

It was her.

As they broke apart, he pushed her headphones down to hang around her shoulders. She pulled his off as well, and he pressed another kiss to her lips. He rested his forehead on hers briefly, completely incapable of stopping the smile that was wrestling the corners of his cheeks. He took a step back, letting the smile win, as she threw her arms around his neck. 

“Baby, I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I never should’ve left. I–”

“--Shh,” he laughed, as he wrapped his arms around her waist, pressing his lips into her braids. 

He pulled back from her, kissing her once again, then turned and walked toward the recording booth. 

She shot him a confused, playful look, and he winked at her. 

“I reckon I’ve got something for this.”

Chelle broke out in a wide smile, dropping her eyes, as he stepped in to the booth. 

He had something alright. He had everything. The amount of words he had in that moment were almost overwhelming him. 

But he was pretty sure he wasn’t going to forget these ones.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!

Bobby, meet Lucas - Chapter 3

day 10 - packing

Bobby has an ill-fated idea

Read on AO3 | Read on Wattpad

Tag List: @mrsbsmooth @eskiix (let me know if you'd like to be tagged as well!)

You HAVE to read this. I am not a Finn fan. I couldn't care less about him. I'm SO GLAD I read it. NSFW obviously. Go! Go read and report back!

Written for Kinktober, but it's so fun that I just had to share it early 💕

A little Finn fic. NSFW. Short, but oh boy is it sweet.

Read it on AO3. Not for the faint of heart.

Have you read Shiny Demon by ThroughTheJunoBush yet? It's an S3 Seb villa fic. It's such an interesting interpretation of events and has a super messy MC. One of those beautiful, brittle types who hasn't yet discovered how worthy of love she is. Her latest chapter just destroyed me. I encourage you to give it a read if you've ever been Seb-curious or just really enjoy beautiful prose and messy MC's. I need more people to cry about Stevie with me.

AO3 | Wattpad

GKLAJLDKJALKDJKJ GOOOOOO READDDDDD ITTTTTTT

Bobby, meet Lucas - Chapter 7

day 19 - size matters

The islanders participate in a rather revealing challenge

Read on AO3 | Read on Wattpad

Tag List: @mrsbsmooth @eskiix @thoracic-orchid (let me know if you’d like to be tagged as well!)

Ya'll. Read this. It's so hurty and lovely and vicious.

Next up in my spooky season one-shots: Bite Me ft Vampire Lottie.

Summary: Vampire life isn't easy, but Lottie wouldn't have it any other way. That is, until her ex-boyfriend shows up and turns her whole world upside down.

Read on Ao3 here

Tag list: @future-mrs-suresh and @kunepie

AHSJHALDJALKSDJFLKAJDA SEQUELLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL!!!!!!!

WEREWOLF ARJUN IS BACK M'EFFERS!

Happy Halloween!!!!!! It's all been leading up to this.

Summary: It's been one year since Arjun and Emma skipped town. One year of running, always looking over their shoulder to make sure they weren't followed. Until now. Now they must reley on their friends to face a new threat. Because it's that, or die trying.

Read here on Ao3.

Tag List: @kunepie and @future-mrs-suresh (let me know if you want to be added!)

IT'S HAPPENING!!!!!!!

doggy fashion - henrik/arjun

Summary:

After a rough breakup, Arjun is ready to date again, and he’s got his eyes fixed on the handsome blonde he often sees running with his dog in the park. He just needs to work up the courage to talk to him.

Rating: Explicit

Wordcount: 8,020

Read on AO3

Tag list: @eskiix, @thoracic-orchid, @mrsbsmooth (let me know if you'd like to be tagged for future updates!)

Ya'll... read ittttttt. So hot and sexy! I'm not even that into Roberto but I'm feeling him after this.

Convince Me - Roberto/MC

Summary:

That hot tub date. Except, well... hotter.

Rating: Explicit

Words: 3,510

Read on AO3

Note: Many thanks to @mrsbsmooth, who was a huge help in making this spicier! She has such a natural gift for sexual tension, whereas I absolutely do not 🤣

Such an underrated @throughthejunobush story. I love those tough, competitive bitches.

Better by throughthejunobush

Author's tumblr: @throughthejunobush

Rating: Mature

Main relationship: Shannon/MC

Summary: When Ramona returned from Casa to find Rahim shacked up with some busty Irish Tart, she wasn't worried, because Ramona doesn't lose. But Shannon had plans of her own, and she was willing to bet she would get what she wanted.

The Rahim/Shannon/Jo drama I would have liked to see.

Extra details: Season 2, in villa, enemies to lovers

Oneshot, 7k words

🥺

Lewie. Dude. A golden retriever always follows, buddy.

It a real sign of her skills that @mrsbsmooth just made me go "awwww" about Ryan. RYAN.

Making excuses for the LIs if they bring back a girl from Casa— an exercise:

I wrote 80,000 words to make Suresh’s actions make sense. I’m a professional when it comes to making excuses for mens bad behaviour. I can do this.

So without further ado, here’s what the LIs were thinking:

Jamal:

He’s never been serious with a girl before. That grand gesture was out of character for him, and then she just left the villa… and he was going to follow her out. Holy. Shit. He is panicking. He’s never had feelings like this before. He’s never felt this way about a girl before. He is freaking out.

He was going to follow her out on national tv. He was going to put himself out there like that, risk everything, potentially humiliate himself… and he is very, very frightened.

Cue Casa Amor. Meets Flo. She’s hot, she’s fun, and she’s absolutely not the kind of girl he wants to be with forever. He can go back to what’s normal- to the flings and short term options he’s used to, that he’s comfortable with. He’s in absolute denial about his feelings for MC, it’s way too much for him to deal with. He can’t be falling in love with a girl he’s known a few weeks.

It takes a few days at CA, but he’s starting to relax. Flo is easy. Flo is comfortable.

Until he gets back to the villa… and MC is there. Those feelings come rushing back.

There’s no easy way out of this one.

Ryan:

He’s always trusted the universe. Every major decision, every “vibe” he’s gotten from someone he’s met… the universe has always had his back. Damn, it led him to love island. It led him to MC.

When she leaves, he knows he has to trust the universe, but something doesn’t feel right. For the first time in his life… he wants to fight for it. He wants to leave with her, universe be damned. He’s never felt like this before, and he can’t take the risk that the universe won’t bring them back together. It would crush him. Ryan runs out the front door of the villa, telling her to wait, but he’s too late. She’s already gone. The universe wins again.

He arrives at CA, and the universe is telling him something. Flo. That’s been almost his motto his whole life. Go with the flow. Follow the music, go where life takes you. It’s a sign- it has to be.

It feels so wrong, but he chooses her anyway. There must be some reason for it- a plan or a pathway that he needs to follow. So he goes along with it.

But when he sees MC back in the villa… he makes up his mind. Universe be damned. He’s never letting her go again.

Lewie:

Lewie’s been set on her since day one. From the moment he met her, he kinda knew. There was something special about her, something he wasn’t going to find anywhere else. He was set.

But the thing about Lewie… he’s a little bit too… how would you put it? Nice. He’s always been a little bit too nice. A little too honest, a little too willing to step aside and not go after what he wants. He’s agreeable to a fault. Honest. Friendly. Loyal. He’s a team player, even if it means giving up his own shot at goal.

His grand gesture was the moment. He wanted to tell her how he felt. He’d found what he was looking for. He knew she wanted to be with him outside, she’d said so herself.

So why didn’t she ask him to leave with her?

He didn’t want to put pressure on her by just packing his bag. If she wanted him to, she would’ve asked. Wouldn’t she?

Casa arrives. Lewie’s still there. He’s sleeping on the daybeds. He’s loyal to her. The lads are telling him he’s an idiot. “She’s gone,” they said. “She didn’t ask you to leave with her, so may as well crack on.” It feels wrong. He knows what he wants. He still wants to follow her out, but with every passing day, it feels more and more stupid. Further and further away.

He’d blown it.

He’d had his shot with MC and he’d blown it. By not following her out, he’d made his choice. She’d never be interested now.

And along came Flo.

It felt wrong. It felt so awful and wrong, but she was a second chance. A chance to do things right. To try to form a connection with someone that would last. A chance to find someone he could bring home to his Nana. He didn’t feel the same way about Flo as he did about MC, but at this point did it even matter? He would never have a shot with MC again. She was gone. And even if he saw her again, she’d never want him.

… or would she?

Ozzy:

He’d left it too late. He had one chance and he’d left it too late.

It would’ve been weird to follow her out, right? They weren’t even in a couple. One kiss and a few whispered conversations weren’t enough to figure out if you’ve found the one.

So why did he kind of want to do it anyway?

He was being crazy, he knew he was. There was no way he’d fallen for MC that fast, and from afar. He had to get his head back into the game. And the game was about to get complicated.

He knew she’d be watching at home. And he knew what her main concern would be. It would be the same thing she’d been worried about since the very first day.

Did he like Grace more than her?

There was only one way to show her.

Flo was great, but not at all his type. It was obvious they were just friends. And she was perfectly willing to go along with it.

He would bring Flo back to show MC that he was done with Grace. Even when MC wasn’t there, he was done. He’d sooner recouple with a girl he barely knew, bringing her back to the villa for her own shot at love. But he needed to make it clear.

Him and Grace were done.

Elliot:

Life is a game of strategy. Every decision, every choice, the result of a dice roll telling you how successful you’ll be.

And strategy was all he could do.

He liked MC. Really liked her. But when she got dumped, there wasn’t much he could do about it. He could’ve followed her out, but god, her original love interest was damn near chomping at the bit to do that. She looked so uncomfortable at the thought— he couldn’t put her in that position. She would feel obligated toward him forever, knowing he gave up his shot on Love Island to be with her after only a day? That was way too much pressure to put on a new relationship.

Even if it did feel like she might’ve been his endgame.

Casa Amor was a whirlwind, but he had a strategy as usual. He just had to bring a girl back. Last season had sent home anyone who was left single, and he now no longer had a partner in the villa. He couldn’t risk going home yet- the exposure from being on the show was too great. He needed this boost to his profile if he was going to get the money he needed to build a life for himself and MC— Err— for himself and the girl he’d end up with. So he had to switch.

But strategies don’t always pay off.

🥺💗

Holding hands with the s6 boys 🤍

So tomorrow is the day we see our main villa boys I’m so excited but also nervous 😬 basically I wrote these cause I was feeling soft and missing them aswell🥺anyway there from the drafts ofc🫶🏼

🖤Ozzy: loves the secret little hand-holding the ones where he subtly reaches over and unexpectedly grabs your hand under the table while talking to others during a family dinner or a gathering with friends. he loves to trace random patterns and words with his thumb over the back of your hand.

🖤Roberto: he loves to bring your hand closer to him while holding it no matter how cold or warm your hands are, he loves to leave a soft kiss before pressing the back of your hand against his cheek he also loves holding it close to his chest, right where his heart is.

🖤Lewie: holding hands with him gives a feeling of innocence whenever he holds your hand, he loves watching the way you respond, the way your eyes light up and the smile on your face as he laces your fingers with his. He also likes to hold hands in the quiet and darkness of the night, his hand often finding its way over yours as you lie in bed.

🖤Ryan: he just loves to hold your hand and he could do it all day he loves the way your hands briefly touch when you walk side by side, and he can’t resist the overwhelming urge to take your hand and intertwine it with his bringing it to his lips and kissing it softly as he looks at you. He likes to caress your hand or squeeze it, to show you that everything is fine, and that he is with you.

🖤Elliot: whenever he holds your hand, he loves to kiss it at least once or several times during the day. sometimes he would bring it to his lips without thinking and make it stay there while he focused on something else, like a movie or a game.

🖤Jamal: he loves to play with your hand while holding it tracing the shape of your fingers and the lines of your palm. he also likes to compare the size of your hands and no matter how big or small the difference is, he just loves it. It’s simple but it makes him happy. and if you’re someone who cracks knuckles, he does it for you while holding hands.

Ya'll aren't ready. But if you like smut, you should read it anyhow. It lives up to its name, that's all I'll say. I'm also proud to say that I fucked up the ending for everyone with a single suggestion 😆You're welcome.

Can you please rewrite Casa Amor day 1 except MC does a real ho route… with all four boys 🙈 maybe not Francis 💀

FILTHY

Andy/Hamish/Marshall/MC - 8800+ words - @mrsbsmooth EXTREMELY NSFW

The boys in the villa aren’t enough for her. The boys in Casa… might be.

Don’t read this in public.

Alexis was done. She was fucking done.

She was done with Amelia constantly going after the guy she liked, she was over Ozzy dicking her around and not being honest with Grace, she was done with being locked in a villa without a single guy who knew his way around a woman’s body. She knew without needing to try them– not one of those guys knew where the clitoris was; maybe Lewie, but he was so damn vanilla that it wouldn’t have mattered if he did. 

Alexis was ready to go home. God only knew she’d have a better chance of finding a guy on her own outside of the villa’s gaudy walls. But when she found out she was going to Casa Amor a day early to get to know four brand new guys… 

Well, she couldn’t pass up an opportunity like that. 

From the moment she walked in, she’d had her eye on three of them: The adorable vet who hinted that he was also pretty good with human anatomy. The tattooed Adonis with an enormous revenge boner, and probably a real one to match. The absolutely wired real estate agent who she knew was probably into some absolutely filthy shit.  

Any of the three were better than the wet fish back at the villa. 

But which one to choose?

Andy kissed her so confidently in the kissing challenge, and he was so cocky as he flirted with her. Double entendres. Innuendo. He was quiet, but he certainly wasn’t shy, especially when it came to letting her know he was interested in her. He knew his way around a body, she knew that for sure; his fingers gently flitting over the sensitive spots on her hips, back, and neck with such delicacy he could almost claim it was innocent. But he knew what those touches did to her– his subtle glances at her parted lips almost assured her of that. 

Hamish was a bit weird to start with; she hadn’t been able to read him at first. But the more she watched him, the more she knew. He said and did some weird shit when he was nervous, trying to hide it behind the first thing that came to his mind. But when it came down to it, she already knew he’d be willing to put his money where his mouth was. Or to put other things where his mouth was. That boy had some fucking kinks, she could already tell. Biting. Licking. Food? He was unhinged enough that he’d probably all the way choke her if she asked him to. He was up for anything, and that turned her the fuck on.

And Marshall was… well, he was Marshall. He was Ozzy, but make it spicy. There was no good-guy vibe there, no ‘I-don’t-do-one-night-stands’ or ‘I-can’t-hurt-Grace’s. Marshall was pure fuckery, pure ego, pure absolute chaos, and woof, the fact he shared Ozzy’s impeccable bone structure? There was a chance he was talking himself up, which wouldn’t do at all… but she was ready and willing to find out.

Three guys, one day, a world of opportunity for her to explore. 

If she moved fast.

*

Step One: Get rid of Francis. 

It wasn’t difficult. All she had to do was ask him what the deepest meditative state he could reach was. 

“So deep that I can’t pull myself out of it,” he answered, with a disgustingly peaceful smile. “I need someone to wake me.”

“Can you show me?”

Francis pulled his lips to the side, unsure. 

Alexis internally rolled her eyes. But it had to be done. 

“Francis… I’m kinda…. Into that.”

“Oh… Oh,” he responded, his face contorting into some horrific mimicry of a smirk. “Well, then, I suppose I could show you… If you promise to wake me up in, let’s say, two minutes?”

“Of course!” Alexis smiled. 

Francis pressed on his forehead, making some deep guttural noise, and sent himself into a deep trance. And almost immediately, Alexis got up and walked away. 

Step One: Complete. 

*

Step Two: Prepare.

She walked to the front door, locked it, then went to the fuse box in the kitchen, switching every one of the fuses to ‘off’ except for the lights. That took care of the cameras. 

Now, the men. 

This part was easy. Alexis walked up to each of them in turn, flitting her fingers up their arms, and told them to meet her in the bedroom in five minutes. Hamish’s eyebrow twitched, Andy’s cock did– she saw it through his shorts. Marshall leaned in close and brushed his lips across her cheek. 

And when she entered the room five and a half minutes later, all three of them were there. 

Step Two: Complete. 

*

Step Three: Let the games begin.

Marshall, Hamish, and Andy were gathered, standing around one of the beds, clearly waiting for an explanation for why she’d asked all three of them there and why the villa had suddenly lost most of its electricity. Thank the Lord for summer, none of them were wearing shirts– all three incredible physiques on full display as they walked around in nothing more than swim shorts.

Alexis entered the room, closed the door behind her, and locked it tight. 

“What is this?” Hamish asked. “Is this part of a challenge or something?”

Alexis walked toward them, her eyes focussed on him. She stopped a few metres in front of them. 

“Sort of,” she said, her lips curling into a soft smirk. “It’s a different kind of challenge, though.”

“Oh?” Andy smirked, catching on that she was up to something. “One you’ve assigned yourself?”

Clever boy. I knew you’d get it.

“See, I’ve found myself in a bit of a predicament,” she started, pulling her hair from its bun and sending it tumbling down over her shoulders. She took a strand of it between her fingers, twirling it around them demurely. “The rest of the girls are coming to the villa tomorrow.”

“Yes… and?” Hamish asked. 

“And,” Alexis continued, biting her lip softly. “I’ve kissed all three of you. But I still haven’t decided which one of you I want. So I thought… maybe… we could invent our own challenge. To help me decide.”

She looked up, her eyes big and innocent as a helpless doe, and to her utmost glee, found a pack of hungry wolves staring back at her. They looked hesitant but utterly intrigued, three pairs of eyes devouring her with their ravenous gaze.

“And what would this challenge entail?” Marshall asked, casually sliding onto the bed, patting the space beside him.

Alexis slipped in next to him, facing Hamish and Andy. 

“It would be kind of a series of challenges.”

“Like what?” Hamish asked, devouring her with his eager gaze as she bit her lip. 

“Well, the first would be for one of you to undress me.”

Silence. 

And that was fine. She expected this.

Hesitancy was only normal. No one wanted to test to see if she was serious, only to find out that it was some weird prank. Alexis looked at Andy, daring him to move, but he hesitated. She looked over her shoulder, twitching her eyebrow at Marshall, and he studied her face to see if she was messing with him.

So she turned her face to Hamish.

All she had to do was meet his gaze, and he stepped forward, unwaveringly confident as he had been since the second she met him. He wouldn’t have cared if she was messing with him– the boy had no shame. 

Which was exactly what she was counting on. 

He knelt on the bed in front of her, and for a moment, he was gentle, tracing his hand up her arm, onto her shoulder, brushing against her collarbone with his thumb. His fingers threaded up the back of her neck, into her hair, and suddenly, he wasn’t gentle any more. Hamish gripped her tightly, pulling her in, kissing her hard. 

And Alexis responded. 

Hamish dropped his lips to her neck, sucking and biting at her skin with surprising precision, dragging a line over her collarbone and down onto the top of her breast. She reached for the tie of her bikini, but he smacked her hand away, untying it himself in two fluid motions. He tugged it out from between them, tossing it across the room, exposing her breasts to the cool villa air.

And it was on.

Seeing she was serious, Marshall didn’t hesitate, leaning in, kissing down her collarbone and onto her breast, taking her nipple in his mouth. Andy’s breath caught, and Alexis watched him undo his shorts, slipping his hand inside them as he watched intently.

She kissed Hamish again, and he slipped his eager tongue into her mouth, making her moan as Marshall began to trace her nipple with his lips. Hamish’s kisses began to trail down her jaw, and Marshall’s began to rise, the boys meeting on either side of her neck in a seemingly perfect synchronisation. 

Andy kneeled on the bed, crawling up toward her as the other two kept her busy. He dragged her legs out in front of her and tugged her bikini bottoms down over her ass, sliding them down her legs and throwing them across the adjacent bed. 

She moaned in approval as he dragged his lips over her ankles and calves, watching her intently as he kissed a hungry trail up to her thighs.

“How far do you want this to go?” Andy asked, his gaze more ravenous than she expected.

“Keep going until I say the safeword,” she replied, biting her lip. 

“What’s the safeword?” Hamish asked. 

Alexis looked up at him, teasing him with her gaze.

“Don’t know,” she whispered, her voice low and husky. “I’ve never had to use one.”

Hamish’s eyes flashed with a darkness she recognised, a moan captured by the exhale of his heavy breath.

Called it, she thought. Hamish was into some kinky shit.

To her left, she heard the rustling of fabric. Marshall took her hand, sliding it into his swim shorts and onto his already very hard cock. He broke apart from kissing her for a moment, whistling to get Hamish’s attention. Hamish lifted his head, and Marshall nodded down toward his swim shorts. Hamish glanced at Alexis to confirm, and she nodded, sending him the sluttiest, most wanting eyes she could manage. Without a modicum of shame, Hamish tugged his shorts down, and she licked her hand, wrapping it around him as he thrust his hips forward to meet it. 

Andy didn’t hesitate, not even hesitating for a moment; spreading her legs and parting her gently with his fingers. He brought them to her clit, rubbing small circles on her, gently teasing her as Marshall and Hamish continued kissing her neck. She pumped her hands over both of them, her rhythm steady, and Andy lowered his head. As if transfixed, he admired her, before glancing up at her and holding her gaze.

“What’s the next challenge?”

She looked down at him, her eyes hooded, biting her lip as he leaned in. His breath was hitting her right where she wanted him. Needed him. Andy looked up at her, waiting patiently for instructions, a cheeky, knowing grin on his face. 

He knew exactly what the next challenge was. 

“Make me come.”

He smirked and brought his mouth to her, and she gasped. 

She still had Marshall and Hamish in her hands, and she had to stop herself from gripping them too hard. But Andy’s mouth was…

Oh, fuckkkk.

He was all tongue. All lips. All heat and deep, grunting moans as he started a teasingly slow rhythm. The sensation was ecstasy; a pair of hungry, plush lips on her neck, a pair leaving rough, biting hickeys on her breasts, a pair gently sucking and licking her clit. But right now, it was the last one that was drawing the most of her attention. 

She spread her legs wider, and Andy settled in, wrapping her legs around his head as he tugged her a little more down the bed. The change in angle made her gasp, and Andy pulled away, chuckling a little. 

“I told you, they call me the cat whisperer,” he smirked. “But I’m nowhere near done with you yet.”

He brought his lips back to her, and Alexis moaned, as he licked a loooong line right up her centre. Andy was messy, and he absolutely did not care, her wetness coating him nose to chin as he groaned. Every shuddering movement of her hips, every twitch of her legs only urged him on, wrapping her thighs around his head as if suffocating himself wasn’t only okay, it was the goal. Alexis watched him, gasping as he shifted, rolling slightly onto his side and slipping his hand back into his shorts. He began teasing himself as he devoured her, slowing the pace of his slick tongue to match his hand on his own tip, and it was doing things to her body that shouldn’t have been legal.

“Andy,” she whispered, “I’m getting close.”

He groaned again, his pace lifting, one hand wrapped around her thigh, one around his own cock as he kept doing exactly what he was doing. She could see him rocking himself into his own hand, as if desperately picturing what it’d be like to fuck her. 

But he would have to wait.

Marshall shuffled back, leaning her back, and she propped herself up on her elbows. He took her hand from his pants, tugging himself free, and she gasped. He was long, almost too long, curving slightly downwards, and she almost began drooling as he got back to his knees. He brought his tip to her lips, running it across them, and her tongue darted out, flicking him, but her lips remained closed. 

“Open up, sweetheart,” he chuckled. “I want to feel it when Andy gets you there.”

She parted her lips, and Marshall didn’t hesitate, grabbing a handful of her hair and pulling her mouth onto his cock. 

“Ohhh yeahhh,” he groaned. “That’s it.” He began gently thrusting himself into her mouth, moving her head back and forth on him with the rhythm he wanted, and he bit his lip. “God, you’ve got a great mouth.”

Alexis shuddered with need, so unbelievably wet at how vocal he was.

“Fuck, I’m having a go at that next,” Hamish groaned. She focused her attention on him for a moment, looking up at him while Marshall fucked her mouth, and found him watching her intently, as if his very own porno was playing out right in front of his eyes. He adjusted her grip on him, and she moaned her approval, giving him a little more pressure and a lot more pace. Hamish’s eyes rolled back, and he groaned.

But as stupidly hot as it was, she could barely concentrate on anything other than the heat between her legs; the gentle, fluttered vibration of Andy’s tongue where she needed it most. It was building, and she knew he could tell, studying her like he was taking an exam in her body. Watching her every movement, responding to her every twitch, a low growl in the back of his throat as he pushed her towards the peak. It was so good, he was so good, she wanted to scream it. She looked up at Marshall, begging with her eyes to be able to make noise and—

“Go on, sweetheart,” Marshall grunted, pulling out of her mouth for a moment. “Let us hear it.”

At the last moment, Andy pressed his tongue flat against her clit, sucking gently, and that was it.

“Fuck, fuck!” she gasped. 

Alexis exploded, her legs trying to squeeze shut around Andy’s head as she came with a shuddering gasp. He held her open, forcing her legs wide, keeping her exposed to him and not letting up. Over and over he flicked his tongue, sucking her back to the crest and holding her there for just one more second, pushing her from a gasp to a cry. Her voice faltered with each breath, trying to release some of the tension as Andy tied her to her peak, when she suddenly felt the sharp pain of her hair being pulled.

Her mouth fell open, but it was instantly filled; Hamish shoving himself into her mouth as he held her by the hair. And as he did, he was greeted by the muffled back end of her orgasm, the vibrating ‘mm-mmm-mmmm!’ the only vocal evidence of what Andy had done to her.

Andy propped himself up on his elbows, then onto his knees, looking at her triumphantly. 

“Nice one, mate,” Hamish nodded.

Andy glanced down at Alexis and winked. 

“Next challenge?”

Hamish released her mouth, and she gasped for air, panting as she tried to form the words. She knew what she wanted, she knew what they wanted, and she knew that they wanted the same thing. 

“Don’t stop until I’m covered in it,” she panted. “Make me wish I’d gone home.”

Andy’s eyes flashed with heat, and he shuffled off the bed, made his way over to the fishbowl vase on the other side of the room, and grabbed a handful of condoms from it, the crinkle of bright pink wrappers sending a rush of blood back to between her legs. If he shared a look with the other two boys, she didn’t see it, because without so much as a word, he’d tossed the pile on the bed and rolled one on. She glanced down, seeing him, and groaned at the flawless boyfriend dick that greeted her. A respectable just-under-6 inches, she estimated, thick enough to make her moan but not so thick she couldn’t let him fuck her in the ass every now again. That, combined with the fact he’d just given her the best head she’d had in months? 

Andy was decisively in the lead. 

He teased himself at her entrance, using the mess he’d made on her to wet his tip, and pushed into her without a second of hesitation. He started gently, but quickly began a rhythm of hard, fast thrusts. He smirked at her, so she winked back, flexing her kegels for him. He lost his focus, groaning loudly, his head falling back and his lips parting, and Alexis saw the other two watch him with interest. 

“You good, mate?” Marshall asked. 

Andy shuffled, bringing his knees up a little, adjusting inside her. 

“Yeah,” he gasped. “So fucking tight.”

Alexis’ giggle was muffled by a hard twitch of Hamish’s cock in her mouth, but she made it all the same. She was more than a little proud. It was the first time she’d ever heard Andy swear. 

“Fuck,” Marshall groaned, turning to her, lazily teasing himself with her hand as he kissed her breasts. “Kinda wish I’d had a taste of you before he started.”

“I mean…” Hamish chuckled. “You could always just kiss Andy?”

Alexis' eyes widened, and Marshall raised an eyebrow at her. “Would you like that, sweetheart?”

As best as she could, she nodded furiously.

Marshall shrugged, leaning just across the bed, and placed his hand gently on the back of Andy’s neck, guiding him closer. And without a second of hesitation, captured Andy’s lips with his.

Alexis pulled her mouth away from Hamish, but it did not close, hanging open as the two men passionately kissed in front of her. Andy dragged one hand through Marshall’s beard, while the other firmly gripped her thigh, Marshall’s large hands roaming through Andy’s hair.

“Oh, fuck,” she gasped. “That’s… ohhh fuck.”

Andy’s fast-paced thrusts didn’t falter for a second as he greedily accepted Marshall’s tongue in his mouth, leaning into the kiss and sighing as if it wasn’t just for her benefit. They parted, and Marshall closed his eyes, rolling his lips together as if he was savouring them.

“Mmmmm,” he growled as he looked back at her, “I knew you’d taste good.” 

Alexis whimpered, biting her lip as Marshall settled back in at her side. He took her hand, wrapping it around him, and slid his own between her and Andy, toying with her clit.

Finally able to think again, Alexis looked back at Hamish, who was once again watching the situation unfolding in front of him with eyes full of lust. He had his hand wrapped around himself, and God, he was thick– she couldn’t wait for him to take his turn down the other end, stretching and filling her as she begged for mercy. But instead, Hamish shuffled off the bed. He tugged her towards the edge and let her head hang off it, upside down. 

Oh, God. Oh, God, she knew where this was going. 

Without so much as a moment’s hesitation, he tapped her chin, commanding her to open to him, and she did, stretching her neck to run her tongue across his tip, but Hamish wasn’t interested in being teased.

He eased his cock back into her mouth, taking a moment to get the angle right…

And he thrust straight down her throat.

She couldn’t even moan, the unbelievable stretch of his cock all the way down her throat rendering her incapable of speech. But as he drew himself back out, he glanced down at her, raising his eyebrow with an arrogant smirk. 

“Yeah, bet you liked that,” Hamish growled, his eyes ablaze with raw, rushing lust.

“Fuck yeah,” she croaked, her throat already raw. “Again–”

He gave it to her, thrusting deep into her throat, and Marshall laughed.

“Give it to her, Andy,” he smirked, Alexis’ eyes fluttering shut with every thrust of Hamish’s cock down her throat. “I think our girl likes it hard.”

Andy listened, pulling her legs tighter around his waist, fucking her harder as Hamish thrust faster into her mouth. She couldn’t see Andy, but she could definitely feel him, his deep, relentless grinds into her making her shudder.

Hamish’s breath fell heavy with each buck of his hips, and she tried to work her tongue over him, but all she could do was whimper desperately at how well he filled her mouth. He was transfixed, as if looking at something special; eyes spanning her body like she was a multi-million-pound view. 

“Yeah, you like it a bit rough, don’t you, luv.”

It wasn’t a question, but she tried to moan her response anyway, finding she couldn’t. Instead, she let her eyelids flutter as she rolled her eyes back. 

And in response, Hamish wrapped his hand around her throat.

Hamish, you beautiful, kinky bastard.

It wasn’t hard enough to choke her, not in the slightest. It was for him; the subtlest pinch of his fingers, squeezing the part of her throat where his tip reached over and over. He ran his palm up and down her throat from above, his hands masterful and practised, using her as some kind of fucktoy for his own pleasure. Her eyes watered with every thrust, and it seemed to do something to him, making his eyes roll back as he began fucking her throat faster. 

“Fuuuuuck,” he groaned, his lips parting with a symphony of deep grunts. “I might be out in a sec, lads.”

“Me too,” Andy gasped. She couldn’t see him, but she heard the desperation in his voice. She could tell from his unbelievable grip on her thighs that he was already teetering on the edge. 

“You good if we finish?” Hamish panted, looking at Marshall. 

“Hell yes,” he responded. “Go for it lads. I’m gonna need both of you out of the way for what I’m gonna do to her.”d

Alexis' eyes widened.

Hamish turned back to her, his voice deep and ragged. “You ready for it, luv?”

She nodded as best she could, any she began flexing her kegels again for Andy as she tried her best to swallow on Hamish, drawing loud curses and groans from both of them. Hamish unleashed first, ramming his entire length into her with a gasp, his fingers tightening on her throat. He damn near cried out, and she felt the pulsing under her lips, trying her best not to explode herself as he came deep inside her throat. Andy was next, bucking into her with reckless abandon, claiming her body and bringing himself to the edge. She flexed again, over and over, squeezing him with her muscles as best she could. 

“Oh, fuck,” he gasped, slamming himself into her, her squeals of shock at the depth completely muffled by Hamish’s cock.

Andy came with a groan, lurching into her over and over, leaving bruises on her thighs with the strength of his slender fingers. Neither he nor Hamish pulled out, both panting and gasping for air as they began softening at either end of her. 

She heard the telltale slap of a high-five, and a gentle chuckle from one of them as they began to pull out. 

“God damn,” Andy gasped, “That was incredible.”

“Right?” Hamish said, finally drawing his cock out of her throat. “Can’t wait to do that again.”

Alexis took a deep breath, filling her lungs fully for the first time in what felt like an age. She cleared her throat, trying to will herself to speak.

“Bold of you to assume I’d let you do it again?”

She grinned cheekily up at Hamish, and all three guys laughed. Hamish patted his open palm against the side of her face approvingly.

“You did good," he winked, further cementing himself as her favourite.

For now. 

Neither bothered to redress as they took long draughts of their water bottles. God, she was thirsty, and Hamish seemed to notice, kneeling down by the bed, offering her some of his own water. She opened her mouth, and she was surprised as he lifted her head slightly, pouring it carefully in before placing her softly back down. She furrowed her brow at him, questioning the gentleness of it, but he just shrugged and sat back on the adjacent bed, ignoring it.

Alexis turned her head, still catching her breath, and locked eyes with Marshall.

“Alright. What’re you gonna do to me?” she panted. 

Marshall grinned, his gaze heated with mischief. “Might give you a little challenge of your own.”

“And what will that entail, exactly?”

Marshall’s eyes fell dark, and he got to his knees again. “First, let’s see if you can follow instructions.”

He grabbed one of the condoms, bringing it to her lips, and tapped it against them. 

“Bite,” he commanded, and she did as she was told, biting the corner of it as he tore it open. She held the ripped corner between her teeth, and he held out his hand in front of her. 

“Spit.”

She let it fall from her mouth into his hand, and he smirked. Without another word, he pulled the condom out of its wrapper, rolling it onto himself, and positioned himself between her legs. 

“Now, are you gonna be as good for me as you were for Andy and Hamish?”

She smirked, nodding slowly. 

Marshall lined himself up to her entrance, teasing her with just his tip, and held her gaze.

“Good girl,” he whispered, and he slammed himself into her.

Alexis damn near launched off the bed, crying out as he started a relentless pace. He held her legs apart, almost forcing her into a split, digging into the tops of her thighs with his fingers. 

“Fuck, you are tight,” he groaned, glancing over at an enthusiastically nodding Andy. “God damn.”

She tried to climb a little further up the bed, desperate for something to hold onto, but he dragged her back down, pausing only for a moment to throw her legs over his shoulders. He turned his head a little, biting her calf, holding her up by her hips as he pounded himself into her.

She had nothing to grab except her own legs, so that’s what she did, wrapping her arms around the backs of her knees and pulling them toward her. He had her folded in half and it seemed to be exactly what he wanted, dragging her down to meet his hips once again as he held them down into the bed. He was so deep like this, and he filled her so well; relentlessly slamming into her g-spot, smacking his pelvis against her clit. The last one especially had her absolutely stupid, driving her towards a release faster than she’d ever built before.

“Marshall–,” she whimpered, her voice stilted by his thrusts.

“What, sweetheart?”

“I’m gonna come,” she groaned, digging her fingers into her own thighs. 

“Oh, no, you’re not,” he grunted. He pulled out of her, flipping her over. He grabbed all of her hair, wrenching it back, pulling her to her knees and back against his chest. “Not until I say you can. Got it?”

She whimpered, dropping her hand between her legs to touch herself as she desperately chased her climax. Suddenly, there was a loud slap, and she cried out at the sharp pain as he spanked her, hard.

“No,” he said, pulling her hand from between her legs.

“Marshall, please–” she begged. 

He pulled her arms behind her back with one hand, and pushed her face down into the pillow with the other; his hand between her shoulder blades. 

“Bite,” he hissed, and she did as she was told. 

He pressed back into her, and she groaned into the pillow, arching her back as he hilted inside her. He claimed not to be a dancer like his brother, but the control he had of his hips and body told her he’d experimented with plenty of positions. One hand on her lower back, one hand holding her wrists, his pace was even more relentless than Andy’s, fucking into her with absolutely no regard for decency. He dropped her arms and reached into her hair again, yanking it towards him, forcing her back to arch as she moaned at the delicious sting.

But she was still biting down on the pillow. 

It came with her as he bent her in half, and he hissed his approval, groaning and praising her with every thrust.

“Good girl, God, you’re such a good girl.”

Marshall was in the lead. He was absolutely in the lead. If it meant she got railed like this for the rest of her time in the villa? Yep. Yes. Absolutely. 

Alexis glanced sideways at the adjacent bed where Andy and Hamish were staring, and bit her lip as she found both of them with their hands around their cocks. They were watching Marshall fuck her senseless, getting themselves ready for round two where she knew she’d really be in trouble. 

But she couldn’t stop to think about that now.

Marshall was fucking her like he had something to prove, and she supposed he did. They were on full display for the other two boys, their own private show, and fucking hell, if she hadn’t been close already, that would’ve gotten her going. There was something so depraved about it, so unbelievably slutty, to know they were touching themselves as they watched her being fucked; watched her falling apart at the seams over a big dick. 

Marshall saw where her attention was, chuckling to himself as he wrapped his fingers around the back of her neck. He turned her face fully toward them, and she moaned as he held her there.

“You like having an audience, don’t you, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice dripping with bemusement. “You like knowing how much they want you.”

She nodded, her teeth still firmly clamped on the pillow, and Marshall chuckled. 

“And you want us to come all over you.”

Alexis moaned, slamming her hips back into Marshall to show exactly how badly she wanted that.

“Alright, lads, you heard her. Get on with it.”

Andy and Hamish got to their feet, and she was kind of shocked at how fast they were hard again, but she supposed having a real-life porno play out in front of you would do that. They stood to one side of her, hands moving purposefully, and Marshall kept bucking into her. He pulled her hair, harder and harder, bending her almost in half as he spread her wider and wider.

She couldn’t take it any more, releasing the pillow from between her teeth and crying out curses and hellish moans with every backbreaking thrust.

“Fuu–uuuu-uuuuuck!” she cried out. “Marshall, please!”

Marshall paused for a second, the heat from his chest on her back like an inferno on her skin.

“Are you going to put the pillow back in your mouth?”

She panted as a response, begging him with her eyes… but shook her head. And in response, he wrenched her up to her knees again. She was fully exposed like this, naked and sweating and panting, and Marshall knew it, biting her shoulder roughly as he placed his hand in front of her face.

“Spit.”

She hesitated for a second, but eventually did as he asked, letting it fall into his palm. He spread her legs wider with his own, and reached down, swiping her spit in a line straight up her ass. He pressed a finger to her, she wasn’t sure which, but he paused for a moment, waiting for her to give him a signal to tell him it was okay. She spread her legs wider, pushed back against him. And with a soft chuckle of approval, he pressed it inside her. 

“Damn,” he laughed. “You really are filthy.”

She couldn’t hide the whimpering of agreement that fell out of her.

“Hey, Marshall,” Hamish said, his voice revealing a hint of amusement. “I think she likes when you call her that.”

She turned to Hamish as confirmation, and he smirked, an almost unreadable expression flashing wildly in his eyes. She was so willing to be fucked, to be taken and broken, and she was panting at him, begging him silently with desperate eyes. 

Something ignited in him, and he climbed onto the bed in front of her as Marshall held her on her knees by her hair. Hamish swept his fingers onto her neck, and without hesitation he fucking kissed her; hot and mean and dirty as he greedily pushed his fingers onto her clit. He circled her for only a moment, then dragged his wet fingers up her body and onto her nipple. Then he placed them in his mouth, tasting just a hint of her, and leaned back in. She moaned as he slammed his tongue into her mouth, whimpered as he bit her lip, and couldn’t help but gasp as he dragged his teeth gently across it. He released her, but lingered, his face close to hers as he glanced upward to where Marshall was witnessing it all happen.

“Actually, Marshall,” Hamish growled decisively, turning his face back to hers. “Time’s up. My turn.”

Alexis held his gaze, biting her lip as she silently told him how much she would like that. She glanced down and watched his wrist flick as he teased the tip of his cock, his hips rocking into his hand as if he was already picturing fucking her.

“Fuck off, mate,” Marshall said, bending her over again, directly into Hamish so he’d have to move. Hamish held her up, his brow firm and authoritative, and Alexis’ heart began to race. 

“I wasn’t asking, mate,” Hamish said, his voice low and demanding. Marshall slowed, clearly not wanting to concede. But Alexis saw a small smirk of an idea curl onto Hamish’s face, and he glanced down at her.

“I bet you’d like it in your ass at the same time, though?”

Alexis gasped.

“That right, luv?” he grinned. “That what you want?”

“Please,” she whimpered, and Hamish laughed, shooting her an air kiss.

“God, you are a bit filthy,” he said lowering his voice once more, leaning in to growl into her ear. “Good thing I like a girl who doesn’t mind getting messy.”

He lingered for a moment, taking a second to wrap his lips around her breast, before releasing her and moving in behind her. Marshall moved out of the way, clearly annoyed, but Hamish didn’t seem to care one bit. Instead, he turned his face to Andy, nodding in her direction.

“Andy, take her mouth,” Hamish commanded. “And don’t go easy on her.”

Alexis bit her lip, and looked over at Andy, and found his technique was different to Hamish’s. He had one hand tight around his base, one gently teasing his tip, and she licked her lips, unsure of which she liked watching better. 

“I… Well.” Andy grinned. “If you don’t mind, that is, darlin’?”

She didn’t hesitate for a moment, opening her mouth wide, her tongue extended, inviting him to start right away. Andy climbed onto the bed, kneeling, turning her a little onto her side and bringing his cock to her lips. She could almost feel his heartbeat in it; rapid and thumping, easing herself onto him as he groaned.

Hamish threw a condom on and rolled her further onto her side. With zero hesitation, he lifted one of her legs over his shoulder and slid himself inside. Hamish let out a deep growl of approval at how tightly she gripped him and Alexis had to pull off Andy for a second to gasp. She fell into a quick succession of deep, slutty moans as Hamish’s thickness stretched her to her limit. He briefly teased his fingers over her clit, and she pushed herself into his hands, desperate for the pressure that had been denied to her for so long.

She felt the bed depress behind her, an arm around her waist from behind as Marshall settled in at her back. His hand appeared in front of her mouth, and she pulled off Andy once more. 

“Spit,” Marshall demanded, and this time she didn’t hesitate, allowing everything in her wet mouth to fall into his palm. 

“Good.”

He once again dropped his hand to her ass, slathering her in her own saliva, and instructed Hamish to slow down. Andy directed her mouth back to his cock, and as he did, Marshall shuffled closer, and pressed his tip to her ass.

And pushed it inside her.

Marshall let a loud groan fall, but it didn’t come close to the one made by Alexis. Her voice was muffled by Andy’s cock in her mouth, but she let out a cry, the incredible sound vibrating its way over every inch of Andy’s hardness. He gasped, and she brought her hand to him, wrapping her hand around his base the way he had done to himself as she ran her tongue over his tip. He reached down, cupping her breast with his hand, gently teasing her nipple in time with the movement of her mouth, rolling his bottom lip between his teeth as she teased him with her tongue.

But she wasn’t going to last long enough to tease him.

Marshall’s pace was fast; his quick, short bursts giving away that he was closer than he’d let on, but she respected how well he’d done to last this long. However, the moment Hamish pushed himself back into her pussy, Marshall’s body went stiff. He was damn near paralysed, clearly dangling right on the edge of his climax, trying to stop himself from coming from the feeling of Hamish moving on the other side of her walls. His fingers gripped her hips, his teeth sunken into her shoulder, completely struck down by the tightness and pressure from how it felt to be inside her with another man. She couldn’t help but smirk as she arched her back to take him deeper - a  little payback for not letting her come.

Marshall gasped, and Alexis glanced up at Hamish. Her foot was almost at his neck, and he glanced at it for a second as if he was considering shoving it in his mouth. She raised her eyebrows, excited to see if he’d actually do it, wondering if he really was up for anything… and as if he was reading her mind, he snickered; cheekily sinking his teeth into her instep before glancing back at her. 

‘Next time’, he mouthed, winking at her, before giving her a few unforgiving thrusts that made her eyes roll back.

God damn, Hamish.

She’d only ever had two guys at once, never three, but it was everything she’d ever wanted; her senses overloaded with each thrust into her. Hamish was so thick, Marshall was so deep, Andy filled her mouth so completely, the three of them in an intoxicating rhythm that had her whimpering under their hands. It was so good, every thrust like an electric jolt through her body, the precipice that Marshall had been dangling her off seeming taller and taller with each buck of Hamish’s hips. 

“Fuck,” Marshall gasped, only moving centimetres at a time. “Fuck, fuck.”

Hamish was biting his lip. Andy’s eyes had rolled back, rocking his length into her mouth and gently teasing her breasts with his soft hands. 

Marshall shuddered behind her as he tried to stop himself. With seemingly the last of his brainpower, he reached his arm around her, pressing his long fingers against her clit, but it wasn’t enough pressure. She needed more. Without her even asking, Hamish took over, placing his own hand over Marshall’s and pressing them down onto her hard.

Alexis almost launched off the bed.

She hadn’t realised how sensitive she was, how tight her body was wound until she felt it drawing tighter. She whimpered, the noise once again dampened by Andy’s length, but it was enough to make him look down. 

“Yes, yes, oh, fuck,” he gasped. “I think she’s gonna come again.”

Alexis’ body curled, her muscles contracting, bending her almost clean in half as she felt it starting. It was in her mouth, then her throat; a wave of fire, of flood, of electricity through her bloodstream. Her head fell back and Andy took advantage, fucking her mouth in a wholly ungentlemanly way. Hamish spread her wider, desperately bucking into her as he watched her unravel. And Marshall– Marshall was panting. She could feel his abs contracting as he tried to hold off. 

Alexis’ palms were damp, clenching the sheets beneath her, the only sensation the obliteration of her body on all fronts. She whimpered again, her legs beginning to clench, her chest tightening and abs contracting as she felt it. It was everything she could think about, chasing that high, and—

“Mmmm–pphhhh!!” 

It was all she could scream, her eyes rolling back, as she lost control of her body. The pleasure was an ignition; an eruption deep inside her, detonating and shattering her entire being as white light exploded behind her eyes. They rolled back in her head, and she lost all feeling, her body erupting as the feeling devoured her from within. She could hear Hamish’s groans as she clenched around him, but she was only vaguely aware of her own screams; the moans and cries and writhing of her body as she came over and over, but she was too far gone to care. Thrust after thrust, all three boys, intensifying it by simply being inside her. She dangled there for an age, her whole body convulsing, throwing her head and bucking her hips as she tried to prolong the ecstasy. 

Her body was cramping, her breath falling shallow, and the white light behind her eyes fading almost to black. She lingered on the verge of awareness, her brain and body too spent to allow her any control. 

Except one thing. 

“Alexis,” Andy panted. “Fuck, darlin’, take it–”

She looked up at him, watching his pretty, plush lips part as his eyes fluttered closed. His hand left her breast, joining the other in cradling her head, thrusting over and over into her mouth, and she felt it starting before he did. He pulled out of her just the tiniest bit too late, the salty swill of his first pulse leaving a lingering taste in her mouth, and he groaned loudly as he came on her chest. She gasped, half for air, half in delight, the warmth coating her like a prize.

Marshall was next, using the last of his strength to ram himself into her. He pulled himself up, arm shaking, and tugged the condom off with an urgency she’d never seen before. He thrust into his hand one final time before releasing onto her stomach with a shudder and a breath so deep he sounded like he’d never taken one before. He immediately collapsed behind her, leaning to the side and holding himself up with one hand. She could feel it dripping down her waist on the other side, and she moaned, rubbing her lips together as she waited for the one she was starting to feel like she wanted most of all. 

Hamish.

He was watching her intently, panting and flushed through the cheeks, a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead. He pulled out of her, pushing Marshall out of the way, and rolled her fully onto her back. He dragged her down the bed between his legs, straddling her, and ripped the condom off, tossing it across the room. He gripped his cock, furiously giving himself the friction he needed.

“Where do you want it?” he panted, his body shaking as he held his last shreds together. “Tell me.”

Alexis smirked.

And she pointed to her face.

“Here,” she whispered, and Hamish’s eyes widened. ”I told you, I’m a filthy fucking sl—“

Hamish rose to his knees moaning, and she closed her eyes, jolting as the hot, wet liquid streaked across her face. She could hear him, furiously jerking himself and gasping for air, a guttural groan with every pulse onto her skin. He collapsed over the top of her, his stomach against hers, clearly unbothered by the chaotic scene that was underneath him. He was panting, his torso heaving as he held his weight off her with just one elbow.

It was an age before she caught her breath, her body completely spent, devoid of energy except for her fingers, which traced gentle circles on Hamish’s arm.

She could hear Marshall collapsed on the bed beside her, Andy on the one adjacent, both breathing heavily and rasping with exhaustion. Hamish pulled himself off her, rolling onto the bed beside her, and got up, presumably to take another drink. Andy was next, the covers of the next bed rustling as he got to his feet to go God only knew where, possibly to come to terms with the fact that the third girl he’d ever fucked was part of a gangbang. Marshall shuffled off the bed with a groan, perhaps to shower, she had no idea. 

All she knew was that she was suddenly alone on the bed. 

Through her closed eyes, though, she sensed the lights turning back on, and she knew she had to get up before the cameras turned back on, too. But before she could do anything to start cleaning herself up, she felt herself moving.

A pair of strong arms threaded underneath her, and with almost zero effort, lifted her off the bed. They held her close to their chest, gathering her legs and turning as they carried her across the room. She was so exhausted she could barely figure out where they were going, but in only moments, heard the echo of the bathroom door close behind them. 

Footsteps, a shuffle, and the soothing ambient rainfall from the shower, and Alexis couldn’t help but smile as she found herself gently pulled her under it. She let the warm water flow over her face and down her body, washing away the evidence of what she’d just done. What she’d had them do to her. 

It was sweet of whoever this was to bring her here. Thoughtful, even. It showed experience. They’d clearly done this before, or something similar, and she couldn’t help but be impressed. There was a maturity in being this invested in aftercare, in making sure she was comfortable and clean and taken care of after getting her so absolutely filthy.

It was exactly the kind of thing she was looking for in a man.

She let the water run through her hair, tilting her head back to let it run over her now clean face. She felt a warm hand on her waist, and she leaned into them, feeling a pair of lips on her forehead as they stepped in under the water with her. 

Alexis opened her eyes, blinking the water out of them, her eyes adjusting to the bright lights of the bathroom… and… oh. 

Of all three of the boys, she hadn’t expected…

“It’s you,” she smiled, looking up at him with warmth in her eyes.

Hamish rolled his eyes, huffing as if embarrassed at being caught doing something nice. 

“I’m not sure if I should be impressed or…” she curled her arms around his neck, “... kind of thrilled that it is.”

He flushed a little, but she ignored it, holding his gaze. He slid his hands onto her lower back, pulling her closer, stroking his thumb against her waist. 

“You were amazing,” he said, his voice low and quiet. “I’ve never seen a girl take it that well.”

Alexis grinned. “Been in a foursome before, have you?”

He chuckled. “Couple of threesomes. But you were something else. You were...”

He looked her over with softness in his eyes as he trailed off; as if he was struck by her beauty. He shook his head, and instead of finishing his sentence, he sighed. He brought his fingers to her chin, tilted her back…

And he kissed her.

It wasn’t like their first kiss, the one in the challenge; all teeth and nerves and showing off for the cameras. It wasn’t like their second kiss, or their third; hot and dirty and pure sexual chemistry. This one was gentle. Confident. Delicate and refined, like a sip of cold wine. She moaned into it, and he pulled her in, wrapping his arms around her once more as he held her close. 

He was a different guy when he wasn’t in front of the cameras. A part of her had always suspected that, but this? His strong arms wrapped around her as he held her? His fingers stroking her waist as if he wanted to lay a claim to her? Kissing her like she was his; like they’d just made love for hours… like he hadn’t just fucked her senseless with two other guys?

“Twist for me,” he whispered.

“It’s night one!” Alexis laughed, and she shot him a cheeky smirk. “What happened to ‘I was hoping to meet the other girls’?”

Hamish chuckled, kissing her again. “Not my fault you decided to act like a good girl on TV. How was I supposed to know you were perfect for me?”

“What, because I’ll let your mates rail me in front of you?”

“Yep,” he smiled. “And ask me to come on your face? Sold.”

“Oh, yeah, into that, are you?” she laughed.

“I like what I like.” He shrugged, sending her a cheeky smirk back. 

“Filthy,” she grinned. 

“Says you,” he said, pulling her into him again, kissing over her shoulders. 

“Mmmm.” She sighed. “Says me.”

He kissed her again, cupping her face with his hand as he pressed his lips to hers. 

“I suppose we should go and wake up Francis at some point,” she said, frowning. 

Hamish chuckled, pulling a face, and took a step forward, pressing her up against the cold shower tiles. 

“Or we could… not?”

She gasped, looking up at him and biting her lip. 

“And what do you propose we do instead?”

Hamish’s eyes flashed with heat, and she could barely believe that he could possibly be thinking of going again… but he dropped his lips to her neck, kissing her hungrily. 

“I’ve got a few ideas,” he growled.

“Again, Hamish?” She chuckled, trailing her fingers down his abs. “You’re insatiable, babe.”

“Mmhmmm,” he grinned, lacing both of his hands into hers. With a sudden movement, he had both of her hands against the wall. He crossed them at the wrists, holding them with just one of his large hands, then slid his knee between her legs. He spread them apart, leaning into her, growling into her ear.

“Your safeword is ‘Tofu’.”

Alexis gasped, arching her back and pressing her breasts into his naked chest. “I told you, I’ve never used one.”

Hamish chuckled, but there was something deep and dark about this one, a knowing, ominous sound that had her instantly shivering with need. He raised his hand to her face, tilted her chin back, and ran his thumb over her lips. His gaze fell to them, licking his own as he leaned into her.

“Not yet, you haven’t.”

Choose Me - Roberto/MC

Summary:

Roberto just wants this Stick or Twist ceremony to be over so he can leave the villa, like he should have done the night his girl was dumped. But sometimes, things have a way of working themselves out…

Rating: Teen

Words: 2,440

Read on AO3

(or read under the cut!)

Roberto runs a hand over his weary face as he takes his seat on the bench around the fire pit. The glow of the flickering flames should give him a sense of warmth, but he’s been cold ever since a few nights earlier, when he watched his girl walk out of the villa.

Andi.

God, he was an idiot not to walk out right then and there. But the boys convinced him to give it a day or two first, to make sure his feelings were real. After all, they’ve only known each other a couple weeks, and they live in different countries, for chrissakes. He would be crazy to chase after her, wouldn’t he? Things on the outside aren’t the same as things in the villa, or so the boys said. But being without her only confirmed what he’s known all along, since the night he first laid eyes on her — she’s the one for him.

But then the girls were swept off to Casa Amor, and a new set of girls came in. The guys encouraged him to get to know them, but it didn’t feel right. None of it did. The villa lost its lustre when Andi left. Even the neon beanbag chairs and cheeky sayings posted around the place seemed to have dulled overnight. But he could hardly leave the show in the middle of Casa Amor, without saying a proper goodbye to the original girls. They’re his friends too, and Bella in particular would never forgive him if he walked before she could give him another sock in the arm or ruffle his hair.

The corners of his lips tip up just a little at the thought of that blue-haired firecracker. The two of them became fast friends, and he can’t wait to see her again. There’s never been anything romantic between them and never will be, but his Love Island experience wouldn’t be the same without her.

He just hopes she found someone in Casa Amor. He’s banking on it, actually — because if she couples up, then he’ll be single. And if he’s single, then… well, maybe, hopefully, he’ll be dumped. Either way, he’s planning to leave at the first opportunity to go find his girl, but he wants to make sure Bella’s taken care of first. He doesn’t want to risk leaving her vulnerable.

Finally, the host walks in and does her spiel, and the ceremony begins. Ozzy is the first to rise to his feet, and it comes as no surprise when he says he’s sticking with Grace. Roberto shakes his head in annoyance, making a tutting sound. It’s no secret that Ozzy had a thing for Andi, and now without her in the picture, he’s falling back on Grace, knowing how much the girl is obsessed with him. But as much as Grace has been wilfully blind to all of it, Roberto can’t help but think she deserves better. She might be coupled up with him, but she’s clearly Ozzy’s second choice.

Grace comes in alone and flings herself into his arms, and Roberto rolls his eyes as he pretends to clap along. There’s a brief moment when some doofus from Casa Amor storms in and yells at Grace about something or other, but security is quick to drag him back into the villa, leaving Grace flustered and embarrassed and Ozzy confused and not a little like he’s been made to look like a mug.

Fuckin’ deserves it.

Then Lewie gets up and makes a speech about going with the flow, which causes a few titters and giggles around the fire pit as a blue-eyed blonde steps forward from the row of Casa girls. The two of them are a perfect match, and they’ll have perfect blonde, blue-eyed babies.

And then Roberto thinks he’s dreaming, because that’s Andi walking towards him, on the arm of—wait, no. He gives his head a shake and looks at her again. The woman walking in may share the same face as his girl, but she wears her hair a little longer and wavier, her nose isn’t pierced, and her lips have a way of twisting into an ugly smirk that Andi isn’t capable of. It’s Amelia, her twin.

He lifts a curious eyebrow as he takes in the man she’s with, barely stifling the bubble of laughter that almost courses out of him. Of course Amelia would couple up with the carbon copy of Ozzy, although this guy has longer hair, a beard, and a few tattoos peeking out from under his clothing. And judging by the look on Ozzy’s face, he’s not so happy to see his dear brother. Which tracks, considering he never even told the guys that his brother is actually his twin.

The two of them exchange a few tense words before Amelia leads Marshall to an open space on the opposite side of the bench, throwing a jealous look in Flo’s direction.

And then it’s Roberto’s turn.

He wipes the moisture from his palms and takes a deep breath as he rises to his feet, gazing around at all the familiar faces. This isn’t his goodbye speech, not quite yet, but it’s still the final time he’s going to be doing one of these recouplings. He might actually miss it.

The host gives him a nod, and he clears his throat. “As you all know, the last few days have been… well.” He throws a sheepish look towards Ivy and the other two girls who were sent in to tempt them, whose names he never even bothered to learn, giving them an apologetic smile. “My mind and my heart have both been elsewhere, so I’ve been pretty poor company. I’m usually a lot of fun, I promise.”

There’s a chorus of muffled laughter around the fire pit.

“Although I’m technically coupled up with Bella—” A hard glance towards Elliot makes the other man flush “—there’s been another girl on my mind, and these last few days have given me all the clarity I need to go after what I want. I hope Bella found someone while she was away, but I have to do what’s right for myself, and that’s to stick.”

The host smiles softly. “Alright, let’s see what Bella decided to do.”

All eyes turn towards the villa. Roberto doesn’t know why his heart is pounding, but it is, until finally his partner appears — holding hands with someone else.

He lets out a sigh of relief, and a wide smile crosses his face. When she catches his eye, she beams at him, as if she’s as happy to see that he’s standing there alone as he is to see that she’s twisted to someone new.

When they reach the fire pit, she stands next to the host, but all she can look at is him, her eyes sparkling with joy and excitement — and a hint of mischievousness. He knows that look well, the look that says that she knows something he doesn’t. But what could it possibly mean?

The host asks her a few questions, and Roberto learns that the new guy’s name is Andy — which makes him chuckle a little even as a pang goes through him at the reminder of his Andi. He seems nice, and he’s looking at Bella like she hung the moon, so Roberto couldn’t be happier for her. They come over and he gives Bella one of his biggest hugs, Andy a firm handshake, and then they all sit down together.

“Turns out we both have a thing for Andis,” he whispers to Bella, making her giggle as Elliot stands up. “I’m so happy you found someone.”

“I’m so happy you didn’t,” she replies, that twinkle reappearing in her eye, though it’s replaced by a flash of worry as her mouth quivers. “I almost didn’t switch, you know. To keep you safe.”

“I’m glad you didn’t. I… Bella, you know there’s no one else for me. If I can’t have Andi, then I don’t mind getting dumped.”

The worry disappears, the sparkle beaming even brighter, and she covers his hand with one of hers, giving it a squeeze as they both turn to watch Ivy cross the fire pit towards Elliot, looking like the cat who’s caught the canary.

Bella sighs. “I knew he’d switch.”

Roberto shrugs. “He kinda had to, didn’t he? Andi’s gone, so he’s single.”

She looks like she’s about to say something, only to quickly snap her mouth shut. He narrows his eyes, wondering why she’s acting funny.

The host starts speaking again, and he’s fully expecting her to end the proceedings and say her goodbyes, but what she says instead stops him in his tracks.

“Before I let you all go, I have one more surprise for you.” She looks at Elliot, then at Roberto, before turning to look towards the villa.

Roberto is bewildered. What’s going on? The rest of the boys are just as confused as he is, but the girls are all beaming at him. But what for? His palms begin to sweat, his heart pounding faster in his chest, and then he hears them.

Footsteps.

His breath catches in his throat as his eyes lock onto the space where the other girls have appeared. Is it another new Islander? Already? Or is it—

Andi. His Andi.

There she is, like a dream he doesn’t want to wake up from. Her eyes meet his and they light up bright, filling the villa with vibrant colour again. The air whooshes out of his lungs, and he’s on his feet, his knees wobbling beneath him.

But then his vision blurs, starting at the edges, and his heart squeezes in his chest. Of course, she’s just a mirage. This isn’t real; none of it is. He’s sleeping, and any moment now he’ll wake up to find himself on the daybeds, having napped the afternoon away. And then he’ll have to do it all over again, going through the motions of getting ready for the evening and then watching everyone recouple while he wishes he’d walked out days earlier.

“Roberto.”

It even sounds just like her. Warm hands cup his cheeks, which he realizes are wet with his tears. A soft, gentle laugh that makes him squeeze his eyes shut, wanting to return to those blissful moments with her.

“Roberto, it’s me.”

He’s scared to open his eyes, but he does it anyway, and she’s standing in front of him, tears streaking down her own face, but she’s smiling. God, he loves her smile, and he can’t help but mirror it.

“Pinch me.”

Instead, she presses her lips to his, salty tears mixing with the sweet strawberry flavour of the lip gloss she always wears, and he crumbles. His arms slide around her waist, just as much to give himself something to lean on as to bring her closer to him.

“Is it really you?” He can still scarcely believe it, but she tastes and feels so real.

Andi nods, her eyes glowing with the happiness that he feels. “C’mon,” she says, threading her fingers through his and leading him to the bench, where Bella and Andy scooch over to make room.

The host is talking again, but Roberto doesn’t catch a word. He’s too busy staring at Andi, unable to believe his luck. She’s back. He has no idea what she’s doing there, but she’s back.

She squeezes his hand, and he snaps to attention. “She just asked us something, hun.”

He looks back over at the host. “Sorry, could you repeat…?”

The host smiles. “I have a feeling I already know the answer to this, but… as you and Andi are both single, you now have the option to couple up with each other, or to stay single and vulnerable.”

“Fuck yes!” he exclaims with a fist pump, before turning to Andi and smashing his lips against hers. She lets out a squeal before melting into it, wrapping her arms around him.

The ceremony ends, the host leaves, and one by one, the other couples wander off to do their own thing, leaving Roberto and Andi to themselves.

“How are you here?” he asks breathlessly, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear and letting his hand linger. He can’t stop touching her, he hasn’t stopped touching her since she walked in.

“I wasn’t actually dumped. I was sent to Casa Amor early.”

“What?”

“I know! It was so dumb. Supposedly I got the most votes, not the least.”

Roberto smiles, his heart swelling with pride for his girl. “That tracks. Not that I’m happy about you being in Casa Amor with four new boys all to yourself.”

“It was a waste of a plot twist, really,” Andi replies with a shrug. “The guys were nice enough, but none of them were you.”

“Phew.” He wipes his forehead, laughing. “I might’ve been in trouble if they were.”

She laughs, and his heartbeat quickens. Oh, how he’s missed that sound.

“You had to know Elliot would switch, though, right? He thought you were gone. You knew you’d be left single.”

“Bella was worried about leaving you single too, but I encouraged her to switch. She deserves a romantic couple, and Andy is great.”

“He seems nice.”

“He is! But we figured, well… If Elliot left me single, and Bella left you single, then at least we’d be single together.”

“Or dumped,” he points out.

“Apparently not.” Her thumb brushes over his skin where their hands are still laced together. “I can’t believe we got to couple up.”

“I would have left for you, you know. I was ready to pack my bags tonight if I needed to.”

“Well, thankfully you don’t need to.”

“Would that have been so bad? Getting dumped?” he asks. “I would leave right now with you by my side, if it meant never getting separated again.”

She gives him a soft smile, her eyes full of tenderness. “I won’t let that happen again.”

“We still could, you know. Leave. I already know I have everything I want.” He gives her hand a squeeze for emphasis. “I don’t need the rest of it.”

Andi shakes her head. “We can’t leave.”

“Why not? Wherever you go, I’ll follow.”

The corner of her mouth turns up into a smirk, and she gazes across the villa before turning back to him, leaning in to whisper in his ear.

“We can’t let Amelia win.”

Roberto’s head tilts back as he laughs. All his doubts immediately vanish — he’s not dreaming. This is real. This girl who he’s grown to know and—yes—even love is really back.

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Lewie Drabble

Based off a convo with @sophiebernadotte about whether or not Lewie would ever get a tattoo:

(Post-fic AU from Off Limits)

Under the cut

“This is gonna hurt, isn’t it?” he asked.

“Yeah, babe, it’s a tattoo,” she replied, squeezing his hand. “You don’t have to do this if you d—“

Lewie stopped her, sweeping her into his arms, hugging her as he made her walk backwards. Kisses peppered her face, and she burst into furious giggles, wrapping her arms around his waist.

“I want to,” he said. “I’m so excited for it. I’m just nervous it’s gonna hurt and that the tattoo artist is gonna think I’m a pussy.”

Katie burst out laughing, squeezing him tighter. “Babe, he’s the sweetest guy ever, he’s not gonna think you’re a pussy. Besides, even if he did, he’s obsessed with cats.”

*

They stepped in to the studio, and without warning, she was swept into a hug.

“Katie!” Oliver grinned. “It’s so great to see you!!”

As best she could, she wrapped her arms around Oli’s neck, reaching up to try and bridge the entire extra foot he had on her.

“Oli, this is Lewie,” she said as they finally broke apart. “He’s your canvas today.”

Lewie stuck out his hand, but Oli swept him into a hug as well, Katie bursting into a fit of laughter once more. Never could she have expected her 6’0 boyfriend to look so much like a ragdoll, but next to the 6’5 brick house that was Oliver, he looked tiny in comparison.

*

Lewie was sat in the chair, his skin prepped, and Oliver had the stencil ready.

“So, the moment of truth,” Oliver said. “Where do you want it?”

Lewie stuck out his forearm, and pointed.

Katie gasped, grinning a mile wide. “You want it there?”

He nodded. “I want to be able to see it every day.”

She leaned in, kissing him softly, a little at a loss of what to say. But before she could say anything, the studio door flung open.

“We’re here! We’re here!!” Bec said, her usual whirlwind of energy following her. “Sorry we’re late, this one’s queasy again.”

Caden looked around the studio with a distinct gaze of unease, frowning at the needles to Olivers side.

“You really didn’t need to come,” Lewie laughed. “Oliver said it’s going to take like less than ten minutes to do.”

“Moral support, babes!” Bec grinned. “Plus, we can get ice cream after.”

Lewie’s face lit up, but immediately paled as Oli switched on the tattoo gun. But before he even had a chance to go near Lewie’s arm, Caden was throwing up into the bin.

*

Caden sorted with a glass of water and his feet up, Bec and Katie were watching with anticipation. Oliver switched on the gun, and Lewie looked away as he brought it to his wrist, biting his lip nervously. Katie couldn’t help but giggle, squeezing his other hand, and Bec was damn near crying at how cute the whole thing was.

True to his word, Oliver was finished in a little over six minutes. As soon as he announced they were done, Lewie took a deep breath, as if he hadn’t breathed the whole time.

Katie stood up to look, but Lewie covered it with his other hand, grinning a mile wide. “No, no, no peeking!”

He glanced under his hand, and couldn’t wipe the smile off his face, thanking Oliver profusely and telling him it was perfect.

And then, it was Katie’s turn.

She had no idea what Lewie had asked for. She had no idea what she was about to have tattooed on her. All she knew was that Bec had been squealing about how cute it all was for weeks.

Oliver switched out his needles, and got to work.

It was only another few minutes, and she didn’t look, not until Oliver announced that she, too, was done. She glanced at Lewie, who was beaming back at her, and she looked down.

It was a tiny, triangular corn chip, one corner dipped in cheese, and she gasped, the beautiful tribute to Nacho, her beloved golden retriever. But right there, beside it, another, smaller version.

She glanced up at Lewie, her eyes wild and wide, and he had the photo ready, turning his phone to show her the picture.

A puppy. A beautiful, perfect, tiny baby golden retriever, a pretty pink bow wrapped around her neck. She looked up at Lewie, and he beamed at her, showing her his own identical tattoo.

“Her name’s Chip,” he chuckled. “And we pick her up tomorrow.”

Katie squealed, leaping from the chair and throwing her arms around his neck, as Bec screamed with excitement and captured the whole thing on video. Oliver laughed loudly, and Caden groaned his approval, rolling his eyes a little at the gesture.

Lewie kissed her cheek, holding her tightly.

“Two dogs down—“

“Three to go,” she responded. She leaned back, looking up into the sparkling blue eyes she so fucking adored. “I love you,” she whispered. “Thank you.”

“I love you,” he whispered back. “Happy Anniversary, babe.”

Ahhhhhh!!!!! Sarah's writing Marshall!!!!!!

Amelia Can't Win - Chapter 1

Summary:

Finding out she’s being dumped from Love Island stings, and it hurts even more when the guy she likes doesn’t offer to leave with her. But none of that can compare to the confession that Amelia just dropped — the ultimate betrayal from the one person who claimed to always have her back. So when Everly Thompson gets another text telling her she’s actually going to Casa Amor early, she senses an opportunity. And luckily, there’s one person there in particular who’s willing to help her get her revenge. No matter what, Amelia can’t win.

My first chaptered fic for S6! Eek!! I'm not sure how frequently this will be updated as I'm still working on W&W (which is a monster) and a little something I have planned for October, but I wanted to get the first chapter out before the season ended (just made it!). The initial idea was a oneshot but it just grew exponentially and I have no idea how long it's gonna be. Hope you enjoy!

Read on AO3