litgwritersroom

[litgwritersroom]

PLEASE! PLEASE! Hear me out!

Please write a scenario about how Lewie met MC in one of his games but didn't get a chance to ask her name after his game because he lost her in the crowd or something. Then he finally met her again at the villa. Cause that sweet golden retriever boy fell in love with Mc the moment he saw her in the villa, and he is like all in on her already??? Like how is that possible??! 

Thank youuu🤍✨🥺

SHOOT YOUR SHOT

Lewie / OC - 4100+ words - @mrsbsmooth

She was screaming his name, but he lost her in the crowd. He's not letting her disappear again.

Lewie jumped up and down on the spot with the other guys in the tunnel, waiting to run onto the pitch. He was first. He was always first. He was the bloody captain, he had to be first. Project confidence. Project leadership. Cool, calm, collected.

But he was nervous today.

If they won today, they’d go up to League One. He’d triple his salary, minimum, probably quadruple it if Terry kept him on as captain. He’d be able to pay off his parents’ house in three months. His life would change if they won today. 

Mac clapped him on the back. “Good?”

“Mostly,” Lewie responded, swallowing hard. 

“Ahh, none of that,” Mac grinned. “S’just a game, innit?”

Lewie wished he could laugh at it. He stretched his neck as the doors opened. He took the hand of the player escort kid next to him who looked almost as nervous as he did. 

Game time.

Cup finals were always packed, but Lewie had never heard a roar like the one he heard as he stepped onto the pitch that day. It was a wall of sound, almost making him flinch as he dropped the kid’s hand, gave him a high five, and took his position.

Lewie was breathing as steadily as he could, but he couldn’t shake the nerves from his shoulders. It felt like a noose had tied itself around him. What if they lost? What if they didn’t get promoted? How many more years did he have in this league? He was already 24. If he didn’t go up this year, his chances of ever going higher were starting to get slim. He’d never pay off his parents’ house. He’d never provide for his nieces and nephew. 

The stands were a sea of red. He tried to focus on the green beneath his feet. But his eye was caught by a flash of white amongst the red. 

“Lewie! Lewie! Hey! Over here!”

A big group of girls, head to toe in white, chanting and screaming and clearly drinking. They were right behind the goal. But as soon as they realised they had his attention, they began squealing. 

And then, he saw the sign. 

A huge piece of cardboard. Two words. 

An arrow pointing to its holder. 

MRS PRITCHARD

Lewie laughed, almost throwing his head back as he beamed at the girls. They started jumping up and down, screaming with excitement that he’d seen them. He was too far away to see them up close. He just turned his attention back to the pitch, still laughing. The whistle blew. The crowd screamed. The match began. And honestly?

He was feeling a bit better. 

The match started the way all matches do. Slowly. Sussing each other out, no-one wiling to give away their game plan too quickly. He focused on the game with every shred of brainpower he had, and he was having a bit of a blinder, if he did say so himself. He barely missed a thing, ending up right where he needed to be as his team edged closer and closer to the box. 

Levi passed him the ball, and Lewie beat three defenders to get it to Mac, but as Mac took the shot, the ball bounced off the crossbar. The crowd groaned, and the team in blue took possession. Gary forced them over the sideline, and Lewie sprinted back to position. But play had stopped. One of the opposing players was stalling, pretending Gary had kicked him. 

“Lewwwwwie! Lewwwwwie!” 

He chuckled, rolling his eyes. He was a little closer to where the girls had been. He placed his hands on his hips, to catch his breath, glancing over at them again, and once more, they screamed. Mrs Pritchard held up her sign again. 

But this time, he could see the girl holding it.

And he did a fucking double take. 

He was still a ways away, but even from this distance, he felt his eyebrows shooting up. 

Soft, dark waves, a bit of a tan but a lot of a smile, the enormous, excited grin drawing a smile from him, too. White trousers so tight they looked like leggings, and their team’s white away jersey tied into a crop at the front. She must have been freezing, but she looked like she was keeping herself plenty warm by jumping up and down as she beamed at him. 

Damn.

“I love you, Lewie!” she screamed, sending a chuckle through the dozens of fans around her. He took a deep breath, and laughed it off, shooting her an amused smile. 

Play resumed. Unfortunately, most of it was down the other end of the field. But now, he had even more reason to get the ball up to his team’s end. 

Every time he even came close to the group of girls, they erupted into a wall of noise, and not just for him. They were almost louder than the rest of the crowd combined, and when Lewie bent the ball right into Mac’s boot, they screamed so loud he was sure their voices would give out. But Mac missed again.

Fuck. Nil-all at half time.

The team made their way into the locker rooms. Lewie laughed off all the comments from his teammates about what the hell was going on. He honestly had no idea who these girls were or why they’d suddenly decided to show up to scream for the team, but he wasn’t complaining, and neither was anyone else. 

“D’you see the sign?” Gary laughed.

“Yeah,” Lewie shook his head, sighing. 

“Did you see the stunner holding it?” Levi flicked an eyebrow.

The locked room fell silent. Lewie sighed even harder. “Yes, I did.”

Wa-heyyys echoed off the walls, and Lewie, one more time, shook his head. He glanced over at Mac, but he wasn’t paying attention. He was taking deep breaths, focusing. 

“Hey,” Lewie said, sitting next to him. “You good?”

Mac grunted with annoyance, relacing his boots for the second time.

Lewie sighed. “It’s only half time.”

“And I’ve already missed twice.”

“Yeah, and you can miss five more times, as long as we hold them to zero as well. This game doesn’t rest on your shoulders, mate. If it did, Terry would’ve taken you out already.”

Mac furrowed his brow. 

“I mean you have missed twice already,” Lewie teased. “It’s a big goal. Just kick it in?”

Mac huffed a laugh, elbowing him hard in the arm. “Fuck off.”

Lewie lowered his voice, smiling reassuringly at his best mate. “Get out of your head. It’s just a game, remember?”

Mac nodded, taking a deep breath and giving him a brief smile of thanks. “So you really don’t know those girls?” Mac asked, shifting the focus off himself.

“No,” Lewie said, shaking his head. “Never seen a single one of them before.”

Mac’s mouth curled into a smirk. “Bet you might be seeing one of ‘em after, though?”

Lewie rolled his eyes, but couldn’t hide his smile. “I mean, she’s really shooting her shot.”

“With a fuckin’ Gatlin Gun. She’s comin’ on strong.”

Lewie laughed loudly. “Since when is that a bad thing?”

It wasn’t a question that needed an answer. The hint of a smirk on Mac’s face was now in full swing. Lewie didn’t mind a girl who went after what she wanted. He didn’t mind that at all. 

“So you’re gonna go for it?”

Lewie shrugged. “I mean, she likes footie, she’s pretty, and she’s got a big sign saying ‘I’m interested’. It can’t hurt to get her number?”

The second half started, and Lewie frowned as he looked towards what was now the opposing team’s goal. The girls would be all the way up the other–

“Lewie! Over here babe!”

They’d moved. 

He didn’t know how they’d managed, but they’d moved. The entire group of them were now at the other end of the pitch, behind the swapped goal ends. He smiled, shooting the pretty brunette a small wave, and she pretended to swoon and faint into her friend’s arms. 

He belly laughed at that one.

The match resumed, and if he’d thought they were playing well before, the second half had the team electrified. Lewie and Mac passed the ball back and forth without even looking, falling into muscle-memory and pure instincts as they did what they’d done since they were seven. Back, forward, time it right, bit of feigning, more than a bit of fancy footwork, and with every possession, they edged closer down to their end. 

Sixtieth minute, then seventieth, then eightieth. Nil-all. Lewie passed the ball to Kobi, who headed it to Mac– Intercepted. A bad pass, but not the end of the world. The ball went out, leaving the Reds with a corner. The others set up. Lewie moved backwards. 

But first, another time-wasting injury meant to kill their momentum. 

It was a tactic from the opposing team. It was meant to lower their adrenaline levels and catch them slow. The waterboy ran onto the field, tossing him a bottle. Lewie took a big gulp of gatorade, swishing it around his mouth. He needed to keep his adrenaline levels up. He–

“Hey Lewie!” a familiar voice called. 

He looked up. His brunette beauty’s arms were in front of her. 

Her shirt wasn’t. 

She was lifting it. She’d tucked her fingers under her bra, and flipped the whole thing up. 

She was flashing him. And she was not being shy about it.

He spat gatorade all over the pitch. 

Her rather fucking magnificent breasts were fully on display, and the crowd erupted with cheers, but no sooner had she done it, her friends were squealing with laughter and tugging her shirt down to cover her, but they weren’t quick enough. His eyes fell across her body, to the stunningly intricate tattoo painted across her ribcage. 

A red Welsh dragon.

Lewie could hardly breathe, coughing and spluttering gatorade as he tried very hard to remain cool, calm, and collected. But it was a bit hard to look any of the three when he could already feel himself furiously blushing. 

The other guys on the pitch were laughing their arses off at him, and he couldn’t help but join in. He’d never had attention like this before. He’d never been so ferociously and aggressively hit on, especially not while he was on the bloody pitch. 

He did not mind one fucking bit. 

She pulled her shirt down, and as she adjusted herself, her eyes didn’t leave his. She raised her eyebrows. And even though they were still a dozen metres apart, he could almost hear it in his ear. 

Your move.

He held her gaze for a second, smiling in disbelief and shaking his head with a laugh. That was definitely the adrenaline rush he needed. He rubbed his hand on the back of his neck, still blushing furiously, and she beamed at how flustered he was. 

But before he could do anything, his attention was drawn by the referee’s whistle calling the game back into action. Lewie shot her a wink as he reluctantly jogged back to position. He was definitely getting her number after the game. 

But he never got a chance. 

Things suddenly picked up pace, and he didn’t have an opportunity to look back in her direction. He could hear screaming and yelling, but he was down the other end of the pitch, defending his heart out as the other team got close to scoring twice in seven minutes. But they held them off.

It was the eighty-fourth minute.

The lads bent over, their hands on their knees, puffing and panting as if they’d just run a marathon. 

It was a sign. It was time.

They got possession, and Lewie called the code they’d practiced for months. They’d pretend to be exhausted. To be slow, and late, and unfit. Let the other team think that this was everything they had to give. Lull them into a false sense of security. 

With seemingly no warning, a red jersey and a sharp undercut went sprinting at breakneck speed down the pitch. The defenders fell for it and gave chase, sprinting after Levi as he took the ball as fast as he could down the field. 

They barely paid attention to Lewie moving out wide to the left flank. 

Levi to Kobi. Kobi to Levi. Levi to Kobi. Kobi to Mac. Mac to Levi. Levi to Mac to Kobi to Mac. The defenders were focused. Completely focused. Lewie came sprinting up the left of the box, holding level to stay onside–

Mac to Lewie. 

The ball was in the goal before the defenders even looked in his direction. 

The crowd exploded, no one more than Mac, who took a running leap into the air to tackle Lewie to the ground. The guys screamed and yelled in his ear, celebrating along with the shaking grandstands. 12,000 people chanting his name. It was like something out of a daydream. Something he’d pretended and practiced as he ran drills in his backyard. 

‘Pritchard! Pritchard may have just taken them to promotion!’

He should’ve looked for Mum. Or Dad. Nana or Izzie or Josie or Teagan. His mates were here. His bloody under-10’s coach was probably here. But his gaze drifted back over to the area right behind the goal where the group of girls in white had been. Call it curiosity about what she’d do. If she’d flashed him over a decent pass–

She was gone. 

He furrowed his brow as he looked at the part of the stands that had previously held the pretty brunette and all her friends, but they were gone. Completely vanished, all of them, the only evidence they’d ever been there was a white feather boa flung over the back of one of the chairs. Lewie shook it off. Maybe they’d gone to get drinks?

But there were only ten minutes left in the match. 

Mac scored again, and Lewie looked around to see if he could see any of the girls in white, but all he saw was that same sea of red. 

The final whistle blew: 2-0. 

They were going up. Their team had been promoted.

The grandstands erupted even louder than they had for the goals. The air itself was shaking with noise. Lewie was so caught up in hugging his teammates that he barely realised fans had  started streaming onto the pitch. 

He was passed around between lifelong supporters he’d already come to know, and many he hadn’t. His shirt was grabbed, his back patted, his hair ruffled and his arms locked to his sides as he was picked up ad squeezed with surprising force. A beer was pushed into his hand, and he threw it back without a slight hesitation. He was so wrapped up in their victory that he almost forgot to keep an eye out for a group of girls in white. 

Almost.

He wasn’t the tallest on the pitch, but he was taller than most, but he still couldn’t see them.

He answered questions for the local paper, he posed for photos, he accepted the cup on behalf of the team and made the heartfelt, grateful speech he never thought he’d get to give, but he didn’t stop looking. 

She wasn’t there. Neither were her friends.

It made no sense.

He couldn’t wrap his head around why she’d do all that and just leave. 

But, as the confetti settled, the music started to wane, and the celebrations spilled into the locker room, Lewie realised. 

She had. 

She’d just left. 

It took him a while to get over it. Like, way longer than it should’ve. 

The guys made fun of him for it, obviously. “Way to Lewie’s heart is to ask him to marry you, then flash him your tits’. They were wrong– of course they were, that would’ve been insane. 

There had just been something about her. 

It wasn’t that he wanted to date a girl who regularly flash an entire stadium, but there was something about the confidence something like that would need. A risk taker. A joker. Up for a laugh and down for a dare. Someone who made a point of having fun with her friends. Someone who liked footie. Someone who wasn’t afraid to scream his name, to show up to his games and let everyone know she was there for him.

He’d never realised how attractive that was to him.

In fact, he kind of couldn’t stop thinking about it.

He tried asking the ticketing office about them, but one of the girls had shown up in person three weeks before and paid for the seats in cash. There was no name attached. None of the guys recognised them either, so they must’ve been from out of town. How they ended up in Northern Wales for a football match at a bachelorette party was both beyond him, and devastating that he might never get to even find out her name. 

He’d been lying in bed one night when he suddenly figured it out.

The next morning, he’d dropped by the security office before training. It’d been weeks, but he was sure they’d remember her. He was sure that was why. It had to be why. 

The Security team had, in fact, kicked Mrs. Pritchard and her entire friend group out of the stadium, but they’d just handed the girls over to the police. They hadn’t taken names. Lewie had nodded, and wrote down the number of the officer that took them in. 

But he’d never gotten the chance. 

Mac had walked past and seen him waiting in the freezing cold for the Security team to arrive, and he immediately staged an intervention. And that intervention involved the entire team making it their business to set him up on dates. 

Normally, he didn’t mind dating. Even if he didn’t have a connection with the girl, he’d enjoy taking them out for dinner, getting to know them, asking them about themselves– it was nice. 

But now, there was a question mark over it.

Would this be the type of girl who’d come to his games and scream his name? The kind of girl who’d shoot her shot in front of all her friends and 12,000 strangers? Did the girl across the table from him have that kind of confidence?

And for every girl his mates set him up with, the answer was no. 

It was a year later his mates told him what they’d done.

He didn’t think about her as often any more. He’d been on a few nice dates since. 

But he still thought about her.

He’d kept his searching low-key. He didn’t have much of a social media presence, and for once, he almost regretted not having one. One Instagram DM from one of her friends girls could’ve solved the mystery for him. But even after he set up a profile, that DM never came. He wasn’t one for dating apps, but he’d kicked himself a few months later when he’d realised he might’ve been able to swipe right on her if he’d set one up that day. 

But he didn’t think about her as much any more.

The day his phone rang, he’d thought it was a prank. ITV calling him to bring him in for an interview for Love Island. He hadn’t even applied– which surprised them, because they apparently had a long and very detailed application form, with many, many pictures of him shirtless in the locker rooms at training. Fucking Mac. 

Terry thought it’d be a good idea. Good promo for his personal brand. Good publicity for the club. Levi threw a fit. He’d wanted to go on Love Island for years, and Terry had always said no. 

“Yeah, but Lewie’s not gonna put our entire Public Relations team on stress leave,” Terry had said. The guys had all laughed. 

Mac grinned with his hands behind his head. “Nah, he’s just gonna get on TV so that he can subtly communicate his beloved flasher he’s willing to put a ring on it.”

Lewie huffed.

The guys laughed a lot harder at that. 

So, two months after that, he stood just inside the Majorca villa with three other guys, waiting to go and pick a girl out of a lineup as if they were picking footy teams at lunch in primary. He was glad to be the one picking. Because this time, he wasn’t the only 8-year-old who could do a scorpion kick. If there was a scorpion-kick equivalent in dating, he didn’t know what it was, and he definitely didn’t know how to do it. 

He just knew footie. 

It wasn’t in his nature to go after a girl unless he knew for sure she was interested. He knew footie, but he didn’t know dating. Maybe that was why he’d been so drawn to Mrs Pritchard. He’d never even met her and he’d known where he stood.

His phone chimed, and his eyes widened. He was going first.

He took a step forward, placing his hand on the door handle, trying to breathe. The likelihood of one of them holding up a sign for him saying ‘I’m interested’ seemed a lot less likely here than–

Than…

The villa door opened, and suddenly, he was in the league final all over again. He knew that in the memory, there was 12,000 people screaming his name. Screaming for his team. 

But all he could see was her. Caramel waves. Tan skin. A smile wide enough to take down a grandstand. 

A red Welsh dragon painted across her ribcage. 

He stopped at the top of the stairs, his mouth falling open in sync with hers. But instead of screaming and jumping up and down, she furiously blushed and dropped her eyes. Lewie made his way over to stand beside the host, smiling politely at the other girls, but there was no need to make small talk. 

“So, ladies, this is Lewie. 24, Football captain from Wales. Lewie, let me introd–”

“No need,” he smiled. “I already know who I’m picking.”

There was an interested smattering of whispers, but he walked forward. 

The stunning brunette was blushing something awful, and she didn’t look up at him until he was standing right in front of her. 

“Hi,” he said.

She looked up, meeting his eyes, and smiled sheepishly. 

“I didn’t think you’d remember me.” 

“Bit hard to forget someone I’ve barely stopped thinking about, Mrs. Pritchard.”

Her breath caught, but he didn’t take his eyes off her. That pink dusted across her cheeks was unlike anything he’d ever seen before. The most beautiful orchid-pink, painting her like watercolours across her cheeks and the tip of her nose, and it was him that put it there. He suddenly kind of understood how she’d had the confidence to shoot her shot like she had.

Lewie reached for her hand and she gave it to him. He linked their fingers together. 

“Can I pick you?” he asked. 

“Yes, please,” she grinned. 

“Well, then, you’re gonna have to tell me your name.”

She smiled. “Bree. My name is Bree.”

“I’m Lewie.”

“I know.”

Lewie turned back to the host, smiling widely. “I’m picking Bree.”

Bree smiled so widely that he wondered if she might break. The urge to just pick her up and kiss her was one he had to push down. It would’ve been way too forward, and he probably would’ve come on way too strong. Going all in for a girl fifteen minutes into filming beginning was the stupidest strategic move he could possibly make.

The other girls cooed as he stood beside her, waiting for the next guy to come out, and one by one, they paired off with the other girls, until finally, the host said goodbye. 

Bree immediately turned to him. 

“I saw you, by the way,” she whispered.

He furrowed his brow. 

“Your goal. I saw you score it. And I saw you look for me. I was being dragged out by security at the time, but I always wished I could've told you that I saw it.”

He studied her face for a moment, watching the sparkle in her eyes; the light catch in her hair, the way it had that chilly May afternoon. The urge to kiss her was back. The urge to pull her into his arms and wrap her up in them and not let her out of his fucking sight ever again. He wished he was bold enough. He wished he had the confidence she’d had. He just… He…

Fuck it. 

Lewie captured her chin in his hand, and in one swift movement, he’d pressed his lips to hers. There were excited laughs, and knew the eyes of the entire villa were on him, but he didn’t care. 

Because Bree was kissing him back.

She threw her hand around the back of his neck, splaying her fingers on the back of his head, deepening the kiss as she pulled herself into his chest. Leaning over the top of her, she fit him perfectly, like he’d kind of always known she would. 

He’d found her. He’d finally found her.

He wasn’t letting her go again.

#litg #litg fanfic #litg lewie #litg season 6 #mrsbsmooth #litg writers room #writers room #love island the game #ask

[litgwritersroom]

amelia. Rip her apart I don’t care how.

Amelia Gets her Heart Ripped Out

S6 |Amelia/Heartbreak | 700 words | @i-boop-you

It's a miserable morning, but it perks up for Amelia when she bumps into the Portuguese Squeeze at the coffee shop.

Not for the faint hearted, but for the Amelia haters.

It was a chilled morning in January. The city was awake but the dusky morning hadn’t gotten the message yet. Amelia trudged through the puddled streets, shielding her £500 blow-dry from the drizzle of rain.

She wasn’t really a city girl, more of a beach girl, but she was in the city visiting her twin sister and she couldn’t wait to be gone again. She’d take sunsets setting above the seaside over the miserable grey skyscraper hell anyday. One thing the city did get right though was its coffee.

With some time to spare, Amelia dipped her head into the nearest Starbucks. There was another across the street, but that one didn’t have the cute barista this one had. Sure, he always burned the milk, but his shiny smile more than made up for it.

Amelia went in prepared with her most winning smile for him, but as she flashed it upon entrance, her face slipped, that winning smile faltering. Before her eyes stood a handsome stranger with swishy brown hair and a golden tan.

Cute barista who?

“Oh,” she said, stunned into silence momentarily.

He visibly took her in, leaning back with widening eyes as he looked her up and down. Well, if he didn’t like it, she’d stolen everything she had on out of her sister’s drawers before heading out, so it would be entirely her twin's fault. His gaze was intense, smouldering, like he saw right through her, but knew everything about her at the same time.

“Olá,” he said, side stepping out of her way, “excuse me, gaja bonita.”

“Oh, Spanish?” She asked.

He smiled coyly. “Not quite,” he said, taking her hand in his, “I am Roberto. The Portuguese squeeze.”

“Roberto,” she said, matching his accent and rolling his name on her tongue like it was a sweet treat. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Amelia.”

“Tell me, gaja bonita, but where are you going on such a poor morning? Surely a lady such as you should have a … man … to fetch her beverages?”

She fluttered her lashes at him. “I’m single.”

“Excelente,” he smiled, flashing her another stunner. “Perhaps I could then treat you to a drink? That way you would owe me one back, and I am a thirsty man.”

“I’d be happy to return the favour, Roberto.”

“Ah excelente. Please, let me …”

He strolled off, practically floating - wait, was he floating? It was hard to tell with the cape on – and he ordered from some barista. He looked back at her, and when he saw her lovestruck stare, he cocked a grin, exposing his sharp canines.

They exited out into the dark morning again, smiling bashfully over at one another all the while until Roberto asked her, “Do you have any place to be this morning? I was planning to stroll through the park if you would care to join me.”

“That sounds lovely.”

So they set out, never straying from the path, all until they got to the gates of the cemetery. Roberto steered her to a bench under an old oak tree that loomed over the graves.

“Spooky,” Amelia said with a pout, looking in. “Death makes me so sad.”

“How so, gaja?”

“It’s just so sad to think of the life left behind.”

“Ah, think instead of the life they lived, and all it came to.”

“I guess. It’s pretty secluded here.”

It was cold, so Amelia slurped down her drink despite the burnt milk to keep herself warm.

“Are you chilled?” He asked, scooching closer.

She nodded, casting a doe-eyed look up at him through her lashes.

“Yes, it is cold, is it not? And you … you are so warm-blooded.”

Amelia giggled. And he smiled. That beautiful smile. God she was a sucker for a lovely smile. He leant in closer, his lips puckered, his eyes on her neck –

He reached up to her chest –

Her heart hammered away –

His lips brushed hers –

And Roberto hissed, revealing his vampiric fangs, and in one strong swoop, he punched through her chest, grabbing a hold of her still beating heart. He ripped it out and squeezed it until it exploded, spraying them both with blood. 

With her oozing away in his hand, he whispered, “I am Roberto, vampire, and Portuguese squeeze.”

#litg #litg amelia #litg roberto #litg writers room #writers room #litg fanfic #love island the game #litg double trouble #litg s6 #i-boop-you

[litgwritersroom]

Alphabetical in order of Islanders, then arranged in order of their release date.

| 🌷 Fluff | 😖 Angst | 🤡 Comedy | 🔥 NSFW | 📝List | 💩 Shitpost |

Amelia ♊

Amelia Gets Her Heart Ripped Out - Amelia is in the city visiting her sister when she has a meetcute for the ages with The Portuguese Squeeze in a coffee shop. It does not end the way she hopes. 💩

Andy 😺

OH PAW-LEASE - Cass is having a day. And the fact that the hot vet gets to witness every bit of it? Great. Just great. 🌷

Jamal 🛹

STAY - When the girl he was falling for gets dumped, Jamal is almost ready to walk out the door after her. 🌷

Lewie ⚽

Shoot Your Shot - Second chance love in a ... different take. 🌷

Ozzy 🕺

Let Me Be Your Woman - It’s professional. It’s strictly professional🔥

The Road Not Taken Looks Real Good Now - It was a choice he made, sticking by her side instead of stepping forward for someone else. And he couldn't let her down. 🔥

Multi 💅

Filthy - The boys in the Villa aren't enough for her. The boys in Casa ... might be. 🔥

#litg #litg writers room #writers room #litg fanfic #love island the game #litg double trouble #litg s6 #litg dt #litg prompts #prompt #litg masterlist #masterlist

[litgwritersroom]

Please, a vet Andy AU!

OH PAW-LEASE

Andy / OC - 4900+ words - @mrsbsmooth

Cass is having a day. And the fact that the hot vet gets to witness every bit of it? Great. Just great.

TW: Dog/Animal appears to be sick/injured, but is fine.

Cass rinsed the last of the conditioner out of her hair, and started on washing her body. 

Another Friday evening, and once again, she was getting ready to meet a Tinder date. If it hadn’t been for her friends’ insistence, she would’ve given up already. She didn’t really want to go out with yet another guy who only saw her as a piece of meat. She’d much prefer to just sit on her couch with a block of Cadbury Dairy Milk, breaking off piece by piece until she’d convinced herself someone had broken in and finished half the block when she wasn’t looking. Sounded like a great Friday night to her. But, once again, she found herself in the shower, getting ready to meet up with another guy who’d watched just enough of her TikToks to seem interested.

Should she shave? If she really liked a guy, she made him wait until the second date to fuck him.  Did she like him enough to make him wait for it?

She thought for a moment. 

And grabbed her razor.

Shaved, and smooth as a baby’s arse, the way men supposedly expected these days, Cass threw her hair up in a claw clip. She collected the outfit she planned on wearing. Tight black dress, lacy underwear, no bra. Her Friday night special.

Her dress safely removed from her dry-cleaning bag, she shuffled into her giant fluffy cat slippers. She pulled on her hair-dye-stained Pet Shop Boys t-shirt and a pair of comfy shorts she usually wore to walk Joshie, shoving the underwear in the pocket. 

But as if he could hear the swish of the shorts, Joshie appeared.

“No, Joshie, you’ve already had your walk. I’m going out.”

As if extremely unhappy with this arrangement, Joshie nudged the bathroom door open, and shoved his nose up the leg of her shorts. 

“No, Joshie, there’s no treats in the pocket either. You ate them all.”

Cass swore Joshie gave her fucking attitude as he turned and sauntered off. Bulldog mixes were sassy, but Joshie was just a brat. His smooshy, ugly face and little snaggletooth making him look as cranky and grumbly as any dog could look.

God, she adored him. 

She washed her face, pulled her cosmetics case from the cupboard, and slipped her makeup headband on. She took out everything she’d need to start with. Eyeshadow, eyeliner… where the fuck were her lashes? She’d had them when she did her last video, they had to be in here. She dug around for a few moments… until she heard it. 

It was an odd sound, a crinkling, light sound that kind of made her hungry. It was so familiar somehow. It almost sounded like…

“Joshie! No!”

Cass bolted down the stairs, and what she saw made her heart stop beating. 

Joshie, looking guilty, his paw on the bright purple chocolate wrapper.

He’d licked it clean. 

The sound that came out of Cass’s mouth was unlike one she’d ever heard before. Wail, cry, scream, all of them at once, she didn’t even bother grabbing his harness before picking him up and rushing out the door. All she grabbed was her keys and wallet, unlocking her car and throwing Joshie into the passenger seat before practically falling over herself to get to the driver's side. 

She couldn’t go back for her phone to call ahead. 

There was no time.

She gunned it out of the driveway, went 15 miles over the limit down her street, running a stop sign and flying onto the main road as she swung her tiny little Audi around every corner.

And Joshie was starting to look unwell. 

Cass could barely see as she sped toward the vet, sobbing her tiny heart out as she bartered and pleaded with whatever God she could think of, begging them to let Joshie be okay.

And then he started retching.

Cass screamed, swinging into the parking lot of the vet clinic and wrenching Joshie across to her side. He was so fucking heavy, but in the moment, she had all the strength in the world, bolting across the parking lot and reaching for the door.

She pushed it open, sobbing, as she pleaded. 

“Help! Help! Please! Fuck, please, help me!”

The receptionist jumped to her feet, rushing toward them with arms outstretched as Cass collapsed under Joshie’s weight, dropping his back legs to the floor.

“What happened?” the girl asked. 

“Chocolate, he ate chocolate, I don’t know how much, I think it was a lot.”

“How long ago?” she asked.

“Five? Ten minutes, maybe? I probably got flashed by four cameras on the way here.”

The girl nodded, looking in Joshie’s mouth as Cass just continued sobbing. 

“Please, please, if something happens to him– this dog is–”

She couldn’t finish the sentence.

Cass burst into tears again, her head pounding from the strength of her sobs. She could barely even breathe.

“Okay, it’s okay,” the girl soothed her. “You did the right thing bringing him in. We’ll get him in right now. Let me just check if the vet’s still here–”

“I’m here, Jen!” a voice called, and Cass went to pick Joshie up again. But as she slid her arm underneath his bum, she felt a hand on her arm. “Here, let me.”

She sniffed hard, and let go, turning to look up in the direction of the voice.

You have got to be fucking joking. 

Jesus Christ, if she hadn’t been so worried about Joshie, she might’ve dropped him. 

Just her luck, the vet had to be the most stunningly gorgeous handsome delicious beautiful sexy thing that had ever graced a white coat and a stethoscope. Dark hair, dark eyes, a K-Pop smile and an adorable little clear spacer earring. Urgh.

He went down on one knee, lifting her fatass bulldog mix off the ground as if he was a goddamn pomeranian, and carried him into the examination room.

“Alright,” he said, heaving Joshie onto the table. “What’ve you done, buddy? Had a little chocolate snack? Bet that tasted good.”

Cass sobbed a laugh, trying to hide her sniffles.

“I’m Dr. Kim, can you sit?”

Joshie sat gingerly. 

“Good boyyyyy. And can you…. shake?”

Dr. Kim held out his palm to Joshie, who simply stared off into space, groaning. Cass sniffled. 

“Oh, he doesn’t know–”

“That’s okay,” Dr. Kim chuckled, lifting Joshie’s paw up and shaking it like a person. “Nice to meet you… sorry, I don’t have his file. What’s his name?”

“Joshie. Er– Joshua. He’s a rescue– I didn’t– it’s not–”

Dr. Kim furrowed his brow in amusement… and he laughed. It was pure, so sparkling and crystalline, dazzling like a chandelier on a beautiful summer’s evening.

“I love when animals have human names. My dog’s Murph. Also got a cat named Susan and a turtle named Gerald.”

She smiled, weakly, her laugh at the adorable names stunted by the deep sense of dread that hung over her. 

“Alright, tell me about the chocolate. The type, how much, anything you know.”

Cass nodded, swallowing hard. “Cadbury dairy milk, the big block. But I don’t know how much he had. I just saw the wrapper, so he must’ve finished it. He was retching in the car on the way here.”

“And you said it was five or ten minutes ago?”

She nodded again.

Dr. Kim furrowed his brow, and opened Joshie’s mouth, he whined, pulling away, and Cass burst into tears again. 

The adrenaline was so high, rushing through her body and leaving her shaking at the thought of losing Joshie. She’d only had him for two years, but if anything happened to him… Oh, God, she couldn’t bear to even think about it. 

She sobbed, and Dr. Kim looked up, shooting her a sympathetic look as he fetched her a box of tissues. He stuck his head out the door, quietly saying something to Jen, and closed it again. Before she even had time to thank him for the tissues, Jen stuck her head in and passed Cass a glass of water. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” he cooed, crouching in front of her. “I know it’s hard to watch, I’m sorry. But Joshie can sense that you’re stressing out, and he’s stressing out because he’s worried about you. Try and look at something else.”

Cass looked around the room, before finally settling on Dr. Kim’s deep chocolate brown eyes, but he shook his head, smirking a little. “No, not me. Why don’t you look at your absolutely awesome slippers?”

She dropped her eyes, blushing, and looked down, realising what she was wearing. The enormous, fluffy cat heads at the end bobbled as her leg bounced up and down. 

“Oh God,” she cringed. “How embarrassing.”

He chuckled, turning back to Joshie. “I love them. I’d be staring at them too if I was you.”

“Thank you,” she sobbed, wiping tears from under her eyes. “I just– thank you.”

Dr. Kim didn’t say anything, and Cass wasn’t looking at him, trying to dab at her throbbing eyes and stop her nose from running. But when she opened her eyes, she caught him. 

He was watching her. Like, watching her; a curiosity in his eyes that had her wondering what he was wondering. And why he was looking at her as if he thought she was cute or something. 

Oh, dear sweet God, she suddenly was granted the gift of shame. 

She was in the office of the hottest vet in the entire hemisphere, in oversized shorts, an 80’s t-shirt stained with hair dye, fluffy cat slippers and a fucking makeup headband. She would’ve looked like a pufferfish, her eyes and nose and cheeks bright red, snot and tears running down her face. Her hair was dripping wet down the back of her neck, she had zero makeup on… God, she hadn’t even brushed her teeth yet.

But before she could even finish internally cringing, Joshie threw up.

Cass’s heart stopped, and she reached out for Joshie to stroke his back, but he just threw up again, the awful, foamy liquid coating Dr. Kim’s exam table. However, Dr. Kim didn’t look at all phased. Instead, he leaned in closer. 

“Well, I have good news and bad news.”

She looked up, her bottom lip trembling. 

“Good news is, Joshie didn’t eat any chocolate.”

“What!?” she gasped. “Are you sure?”

Dr. Kim nodded. “Certain. The wrapper must’ve been empty.”

Cass blushed furiously. Great. And now the sexy vet knew she’d polished off an entire block of chocolate. 

“Not sure how it could’ve been empty… surely… impossible…” she said, cringing to herself.

Dr. Kim’s stupidly pretty lips curled into an amused smile. But if she thought she was embarrassed then…

“He did eat something, though.”

Cass’s eyes widened as Dr. Kim stuck his pen into the green foam. And held up something black.

Black. And lacy.

Cass’s hand slapped her shorts pocket, and found it horrifically and mortifyingly empty. 

Death. A swift death. 

Please, Lord, come on, he had her pants on his fucking pen.

“Oh my God,” she groaned, covering her face. “Oh my God.”

Dr. Kim laughed, grinning widely at her. “Don’t be embarrassed. This happens at least once a week.”

Cass uncovered her face and forced a smile at him. Forced. Like she was going to force Joshie off a fucking cliff for doing this to her.

“In fact, it’s pretty lucky he brought them back up. These can wreak havoc on a dog’s intestines if they move through.”

“Why would he have thrown them up?”

Dr. Kim smiled a little. “Well… you said you were driving pretty fast. He might’ve just been carsick.”

Cass took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly as she watched him ruffle Joshie’s ears.

“You’re lucky your Mum loves you so much, Joshie. If she hadn’t made you throw up you could’ve been in real trouble.”

Oh, God, did he have to be so Goddamn gorgeous?

Cass couldn’t help but shuffle in her slippers, feeling incredibly stupid and horrifically unattractive in the presence of a vet who was not only gorgeous, but also clearly loved his job, and animals. She would’ve called him a panty-dropper if she were wearing any.

“Thank you, Dr. Kim,” she said. “I’m really grateful.”

“Please, call me Andy,” he said. “I’m only Dr. Kim to my patients.”

Cass thought for a second, before furrowing her brow and laughing at the dumb joke. “I’ll make sure Joshie remembers it.”

“Better make sure he doesn’t eat anything else of yours,” Andy grinned. “If you came in here with one of those slippers all chewed up, I might cry.”

“You really like them?”

“I love them. Look, I shouldn’t say this…” Andy covered Joshie’s ears. “I like cats as much as I like dogs.”

Cass smiled, motioning to keep Joshie’s ears covered, and whispered. “Me too.”

“And I’ve gotta say, they look great with the Pet Shop Boys t-shirt.”

She looked down, cringing. “I swear I didn’t do it on purpose.”

“Yeah, sure, I believe you.” Andy winked at her. 

“I’m serious!” she whined. “They’re one of my favourite bands.”

“Same,” he said with a smile. “It’s what my friends and I called ourselves at Uni.”

“Not the PAWlice?”

Andy beamed at her. “That was discussed. So was DePAWche Mode”

“Huey Lewis & The Mews.”

“Electric Light Pawchestra.”

“Salt-’N-Puppy. No, wait, The (laser) Pointer Sisters.”

“That one’s terrible,” he laughed. “But I admit, I could’ve vibed with Salt-’N-Puppy.”

“Should get some 80’s pop music going in here.”

“Nah, Jen would kill me,” he chuckled. “But I put my foot down at her Scandinavian horrorcore metal.”

Cass’s eyes widened, and Andy sighed. “You really are way too easy to mess with.”

She shot him a look of playful disapproval, and he grinned cheekily back. 

God, he was fucking cute. Deep, chocolate-brown eyes, soft black hair that was dying to have her fingers run through it. He was nice, funny, had great taste in music, great taste in slippers, and clearly adored animals… If only she’d looked the tiniest bit nicer, and hadn’t been such a goddamn fool today. Maybe had played it a bit cooler. Maybe hadn’t been so oblivious at his jokes.

Andy offered Joshie a little treat from the glass jar behind him, which he gladly accepted, chomping it down quite disgustingly and slobbering everywhere. Then, Andy turned the jar to Cass. 

She looked down at it, cringed, and looked up. “Thank you, but I’m vegetarian.”

Andy’s brow furrowed in confusion. “So am I… But, I was joking.”

“Oh… you were messing with me again,” she said. “Wow. Well done, me.”

Before Cass could keel over and die of embarrassment, Andy led her out to the front desk, and she placed her wallet and keys down to wipe her sweaty-ass hands on her shorts. 

Jen charged her card, and Cass stopped short of asking for a new emergency vet in the area so she would never ever have to face Andy again.

She picked up her keys and wallet, shoved them in her pocket, and picked Joshie up, carrying him to the car and sighing heavily as she heaved him into it. As she stood up, she smacked her head on the inside of the car door. She stumbled a little, and suddenly, out of nowhere, Andy appeared. 

“Oh my God, are you okay?” he asked, steadying her with his hands on her shoulders. She reached out to grab him, only managing to hook her hands onto his forearms, but as she did, she almost died. They were so firm, and not because he was flexing. That lab coat was hiding something– a physique that she could only dream about. He was fit. Fit fit fit fit fit.

She caught her breath for a moment, the pain searing through her like a knife as she shook it off.

“I’m fine, I’m totally fine,” she replied, forcing a smile. “Thanks.”

He looked at her with concern, and she looked back at him, feeling her cheeks flush a little as his strong hands held her shoulders. Damn. She kind of wished he’d grabbed her by the waist.

But something caught her attention in the corner of her eye. Andy had an opaque plastic baggie in his hand. She furrowed her brow at it… and then realised what was probably in it.

Cass wondered if her embarrassment would ever end.

Andy glanced at the baggie. “Sorry, I forgot to ask… Did you want these back?”

He’d tried to be discrete, but she knew what was in them. It wasn’t like she was going to wear them again. She was sure they had some god-awful biohazard bin he could dump them in.

“No, no, you can keep them.”

She knew what she’d said before the words had even finished leaving her mouth, but she couldn’t stop them. She didn’t say anything. He didn’t say anything. After the afternoon she’d had, she just…

Facepalmed. 

Cass couldn’t stop her laughter, and it was only after a few seconds she realised Andy was laughing as well. They couldn’t stop, cracking up into a fit of giggles in the carpark with Joshie wagging his tail like crazy in the front seat. 

“Okay, now I’m absolutely leaving. The sooner I get out of here, the sooner I stop humiliating myself.”

He sighed hesitantly.

She cringed. “What is it?”

Andy chuckled, biting his lip slightly. “Would now be the wrong time to tell you you’ve got fake lashes stuck to your headband?”

Cass tugged her headband off, inspecting it, and groaned, plucking them off. Andy was trying desperately to contain his laughter. 

“Oh my God, stop enjoying this so much!” she laughed.

“I can’t help it!” he laughed. “You’re easily the funniest person I’ve had today.”

Cass playfully glared at him. “Oh, I’m glad I could keep you amused.”

Andy settled, sighing contentedly. “I’ll be honest, it’s not every day that… what I mean to say is…” He trailed off, slipping his hands into his pockets and chewing his lip. 

“It was lovely to meet you. And Joshie. I guess I was wondering… “ Andy blushed suddenly, looking a little nervous. “Hopefully I’ll see you again soon?”

Cass smiled widely, 

“God, for Joshie’s sake, I hope not!”

Andy looked a little perplexed, but waved at her as she said goodbye. She luckily managed to reverse out of her parking spot without hitting anything (cringe).

And she was allllllll the way down to the traffic lights before she realised what he’d been trying to say.

She had to rest her forehead on the steering wheel.

God fucking damn it. 

*

Cass was over an hour late for the date, but she looked amazing, so Marshall didn’t seem to care. He also didn’t really care about her explanation for why she’d been late. Didn’t ask about Joshie, or her… just heard about her pants and asked if that meant she wasn’t wearing any. 

She let him feel her up as she half-heartedly kissed him goodnight. But she didn’t fuck him. And it wasn’t because she liked him enough to make him wait for it.

As soon as she got inside, she deleted her Tinder profile.

Cass took off her makeup, brushed out her hair, and threw that same t-shirt and shorts combo back on.

And she went the fuck to bed. 

*

Cass awoke the next morning to a bulldog-mix drooling on her bed. She opened her eyes, groaned, and pulled herself up.

“Early walk today?” she asked Joshie. “You sure? Because I’m not taking you again later. You’ll give up halfway through and I can’t carry you. You know that.”

He said nothing, just snuffled.

She’d worn Joshie’s walking shorts to bed, so she had to change, throwing on a pair of leggings, her trainers, and another t-shirt.

Dexy’s Midnight Runners.

She couldn’t help but cringe at how badly she’d fucked things up yesterday. But she threw Joshie’s harness on him, clipped his lead, and walked out the door. 

It was a short walk to the dog park, and she knew Saturday morning would be a busy one, which was perhaps why Joshie wanted to go there. Then she realised that dogs don’t have a concept of days of the week, or of time. Or of dog parks. 

Maybe he just really wanted to poop there. As if on cue, the second she swung the dog park gate open, Joshie took up his familiar grunting crouch position. And once she’d picked it up, she looked around for a bin to dispose of the bag. And realised it was all the way on the other side of the park. Cass sighed, unhooked Joshie’s lead, tossed his ball, and set off. 

He was having a wonderful time, running around as best he could with a friendly Jack Russell, when out of nowhere, came a beautiful scruffy tan-and-cream dog, happily sniffing Joshie, who immediately fell head over heels in love. Because he started humping her. 

“JOSHIE!” she gasped. “Mate, NO!”

She pulled him off, scolding him, and instead petted the lovely girl, keeping Joshie at arms length as she ruffled through the scruffy fur for a nametag.

Murph.

Cass furrowed her brow. 

God, what were the chances of–

She looked up, and time started moving in somewhat slow motion. Because jogging towards her, in grey training shorts, a t-shirt, and a glowing halo of sunshine around him–

Was Andy.

“Joshie’s mum!” he called out, with a laugh as he approached.

“You have got to be fucking joking,” she said, horrifically out loud.

Andy looked amused as he finally reached her. “Wow, I knew dogs hated the vet, I didn’t know their owners did too?”

Cass blushed about fourteen shades of crimson, spluttering as he approached. “I– fuck, no, that’s not what I–”

His eyebrow twitched, and he shot her an expectant look. But, just like the day before, there was an obvious teasing in it. He was so goddamn motherfucking hot, she was sure she was going to fall over or walk into a tree or something.

She sighed. 

“What I meant was– Why is it that every time that me or my dog does something embarrassing, the person who witnesses it is you?” she groaned. “Like, I’ve got a bag of dog shit in my hand, and Joshie just full-on assaulted Murph right in front of you? He is such a pain!”

Andy grinned. “Stealing his human’s underwear, assaulting pretty girl dogs at the park… I wouldn’t call him a pain as much as I’d call him a sexual deviant.”

Cass groaned, and covered her face with her hands. “Oh my God, see? I have a sexual deviant for a dog. Unlike you.”

“Oh, I don’t know, Murph’s got her quirks. There’s a reason I don’t have any cute slippers like yours.”

Andy crouched down, and Murph approached him with so much love in her eyes that Cass almost swooned. She’d never seen a dog love their owner so much. There was just something about her attention and the way she leaned against his leg. Cass could almost feel their bond.

“I’m Cass, by the way,” she said. “Though, you probably knew that from my file.”

“I did, but I’m glad you said something. I did feel like a bit of a stalker checking it after you left.”

“As long as you didn’t actually keep my underwear, we’re good.”

He burst out laughing. “God, no. I’ll leave stealing those to your dog.”

Cass blushed again, but couldn’t take her eyes off Andy and Murph. And she desperately wanted to stop talking about the fact that Andy had had her thong on the end of his pen the day before. Talk about the dog, Cass. Talk about the dog.

“Murph is beautiful by the way. You failed to mention she was an Otterhound.”

Andy’s face fell into absolute shock. 

“Oh my God– How’d you know?”

She blushed a little. “I groom dogs on TikTok. I’ve never seen an Otterhound in person before, though.”

“Yeah… yeah,” Andy said, looking up at her as he stopped scritching Murph momentarily. There was something in his eyes– like a weird sense of astonishment and amusement– but she couldn’t exactly place it.

“How on earth did you find one?” she asked. 

He stood up, his hand and gaze not leaving Murph’s head. “She’s a failed show dog. Her head was too big for the breed standard.” Andy frowned. “Her breeders brought her in to be euthanized. I asked if I could keep her instead, and they said no. So I bought her.”

Cass’s eyes widened. “Jesus Christ. She must’ve cost…”

Andy cringed. “Five figures, and a contract that stated I had to have her desexed immediately.”

“But they’re a vulnerable breed,” Cass said. “Even without the breed standard, she could be crucial for the survival of the breed…”

He nodded. “I wasn’t happy about it. But it was that or have her put down.”

Cass didn’t even have a chance to stop the words from falling out of her mouth. 

“Those fucking assholes. Good on you. I hope you told them to fuck off as clients after that.”

Andy met her gaze, his own a little fiery. “Yep.”

“But far more politely, I’m sure.”

“Nope.”

There was a moment where his words sunk in. Only a moment. Because after that moment, she was pretty sure she was going to marry him. Or at least, be his best fucking friend.

“Do you want to walk with me?” she blurted out. “I’d love to hear the rest of your asshole client stories.”

Andy’s eyebrows shot up, a small smile curling on to his face. Followed by a slightly larger smile. Followed by a wide one. 

“Yeah, I’d love that.”

They walked in circles around the dog park, making a stop at the bin, but their conversation didn’t stop once. They talked about everything. Dogs, cats, music, movies, food, work, there wasn’t a single lull in conversation. 

He wasn’t on TikTok much, so he asked about her videos, getting her username. His jaw dropped when he saw her view count, and she blushed. Even more so when he realised she mostly did charity grooms for neglected dogs. 

He let slip that Jen had an Instagram page set up for the clinic, and he tried to stop her from looking for it, trying to grab her phone as she navigated to it. She burst out laughing when she realised it was basically just a thinly veiled thirst trap page, mostly of Andy holding adorable baby animals.

“I can’t exactly say no to her- her parents own the clinic! They’re my bosses!”

“She’s pimping you out!” Cass laughed. “But I mean, it’s an outstanding business model.”

Andy laughed. “How!?”

“I mean, if you’ve got a disgustingly hot vet on staff, may as well use him for promo.”

Cass was so busy smiling at Joshie and Murph, that she didn’t realise Andy had stopped walking beside her. She also didn’t realise what she’d said.

Until she did. 

She froze. “Uh… I…. Um…”

She turned back to Andy, cringing harder than she had at any point over the last day, expecting him to be looking at her weirdly. But instead, when she turned back, she saw him trying not to die of laughter. 

Cass smiled sweetly at him. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go and jump off a bridge.”

She made like she was going to walk away, but Andy jogged after her, grabbing her arm.

“Cass,” he said. “I think you’re disgustingly hot too.”

She froze again. She really had to stop freezing like this. It was making her look even more awkward.

“I… what? Seriously?”

Andy raised an eyebrow. 

“You’ve seen me… in two different 80’s band t-shirts, once in basketball shorts and cat slippers with fake lashes stuck to my head, bawling my eyes out. And the other time, I’m in leggings carrying my dog’s shit in a bag. What exactly about that screams hot to you?!”

He burst out laughing, and turned to her, beaming that same stunning smile.

“That,” he said. “Your sense of humour. You laugh at yourself, and you’re awkward, and you care as much about animals as I do.”

He stepped a little closer. 

“But you’ve got an incredible smile. Your body is insane. And even with fake lashes stuck to your headband instead of your face, you have the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen.”

Cass looked up at him, and was a little lost for words. 

“Andy… stop. And when I say stop, keep going.”

He cracked up laughing, grinning a mile wide before looking down at her again. 

“You know I was trying to ask you out yesterday, right?”

“Yeah, I realised as soon as I got to the end of the street.”

“And you basically told me you never wanted to see me again.”

Cass cringed. “Well, I guess it’s lucky that you find my awkwardness adorable?”

“It is,” he said. “But can I take that to mean I can ask you now?”

“Actually…” She bit her lip. “Andy… would you like to go out with me, for a walk around the dog park, right now?”

For a moment, he was floored but gave her that same beautiful smile. “I would love to.”

“Great,” she said, slipping her hand into his. “Then this counts as our first date. Maybe we should get dinner tonight?”

Andy gave her the side eye. “Why does it sound like you’re trying to get me on a second date as soon as possible?”

Cass smiled to herself. 

Good thing she’d already shaved.

#litg #litg fanfic #litg andy #litg season 6 #mrsbsmooth #litg writers room #writers room #love island the game #ask #dog

[litgwritersroom]

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.”

A huge and special thanks to @longbobmckenzie for coming up with the idea for how to answer this ask. Her gangbang ideas she shared with me were the absolute main course of this fic, I just added the words to describe them. Everything from the competition/challenge to the knocking out Francis to the finger in the bum- I plead innocence. Forever grateful to her for always being willing to share her brilliance- this ff community is sexier for it 😂

#litg #litg writers room #writers room #litg fanfic #love island the game #ask #litg ff #litg s6 #litg season 6 #litg double trouble #litg hamish #litg andy #litg marshall #mrsbsmooth #litg oh my #nsfw #litg smut

[litgwritersroom]

Can we please have an Ozzy POV where he realises he’s fallen for MC instead of Grace? Maybe the conversation he has with Grace in bed before he leaves to sleep outside

THE ROAD NOT TAKEN LOOKS REAL GOOD NOW

Ozzy / MC - 3600 words - @ellegreenwxy NSFW

It was a choice he made, sticking by her side instead of stepping forward for someone else.

And he couldn’t let her down.

When Ozzy was fourteen, he was cast as the Prince in a production of Swan Lake in the local junior ballet. 

He remembered being so ecstatic about it, this opportunity to play the male lead in one of the most recognizable shows (even though Marshall had poked fun at him the entire walk home from school). He couldn’t remember a time when he’d worked harder, practicing his turns on the slick linoleum of the kitchen floor and his leaps on the soft grass in his backyard. With no understudy, he knew he had to be at the top of his game—he couldn’t screw up.

And then he did.

The night before the show, he came down with a nasty case of the flu. In between bouts of being sick, he couldn’t stop thinking about what would happen to the rest of the cast, how devastated they would be at knowing the show wouldn’t be able to go on. They’d all worked so unbelievably hard, pushing through late-night rehearsals and all-day tech runs. He swore he only made himself sicker with how much he worried over the situation.

His mum told him not to be so hard on himself, that some things were just out of his control. “You can’t carry the weight of the world on your shoulders, love,” she’d said as she brushed his sweaty hair off of his forehead. But no matter how many times she reassured him, he couldn’t help but think that he was letting so many people down. It was his fault, somehow.

That was sort of how he felt now. But this time, he knew for a fact that it was his fault because he has nothing but control. 

When he saw Grace that first day in the Villa, he’d been blown away. She was so beautiful, all soft curves and bright colors, so unlike the girls he’d grown up dancing with who were all sort of the same, a group of neutrals wrapped up in black leotards and pink tights. There was something about the way she held herself, the way she commanded everyone’s attention that immediately caught his eye.

There was a sense of pride that bloomed in his chest when she picked him of all people, when she saddled up to his side and tucked herself into him as if she knew she was supposed to be there. It felt good, having a girl like her pick someone like him; it was like she saw something special in him, something he had that the other lads didn’t. It felt really good.

But when Aubrey walked out shortly after, he couldn’t help the way his eyes wandered of their own accord. The way he felt his cheeks heat when she locked eyes with him from across the lawn. The second that Grace’s fingers tightened around his arm, however, so subtly he might not have really noticed, he reined it all back in. He had to. Because Grace had seen something special in him. It was a choice he made, sticking by her side instead of stepping forward for someone else.

And he couldn’t let her down.

But Ozzy could only tell himself that so many times before this thing with Aubrey started to weigh on him. Before the private chats and the brushes of their hands in passing and the shared looks over breakfast became something that he couldn’t just push to the side anymore. He liked Aubrey and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could pretend like he didn’t. Still, he tried to hold it off, tried to ignore it because the last thing he wanted to do was disappoint Grace.

Let her down.

Grace, who looked at him like he could pull the moon down for her if she asked. Grace, who still saw something in him even though he knew he’d given her no reason to do so. But she was also the Grace that didn’t ask about his dancing or why he loved it. The Grace that didn’t even know he had a twin because their conversation never strayed below the shallow surface of the lake that their relationship rested on.

He wanted to like her the way she liked him so badly that it hurt. But the way he felt when he looked at her paled in comparison to the way he felt when Aubrey was even in the same room as him. When she turned those brilliant blue eyes on him, when her full lips tilted into that crooked smile, it made him feel…real, in a way. Like she was seeing him.

He hadn’t realized how desperate he had been for that feeling until he met her. 

Ozzy wanted to feel that way with Grace. That was all he wanted, to be the guy she saw him as, the guy she was head over heels for. But he knew even she could see that he wasn’t as invested in them as she was and that killed him. 

It killed him because he couldn’t bear to see the disappointment in her eyes as they settled out on the terrace. Grace was in her nightwear, though she’d wrapped a blanket around her body as if it were some sort of shield she could use to protect herself from the war that Ozzy had knowingly waged on her by dragging this along. 

Nausea twisted his stomach but he knew that this was it: he couldn’t avoid this forever.

“Grace, I really like you. I don’t want you to doubt that because I do,” he began, but he didn’t manage to get anything else out before she spoke.

“But you like Aubrey more, right? Is that it?” she asked, and he could hear the quaver in her voice, could see the wetness in her eyes. It was like a knife to the gut.

“I just like her differently,” Ozzy admitted , nearly wincing at how it sounded now that it was just out in the open. 

Grace looked down at her lap, her hands knotted together. It was like she was thinking out loud, wondering what she’d done wrong, wondering why he couldn’t just feel the way she wanted him to. And with every thought, the knife in his stomach only twisted more and more because this was literally everything he’d wanted to avoid.

“How long have you felt like this?” she finally asked, breaking through the silence that had settled around them.

Since the beginning.

That was the honest answer, but Ozzy knew he couldn’t say that. He couldn’t just admit that he’d stayed in this…whatever this was between him and Grace, knowing damn well he was interested in someone else. And maybe that’s all it had been in the beginning, interest, but somewhere along the way he’d actually caught feelings for Aubrey. He hated lying, he hated not being 100% honest, but he couldn’t bear the thought of breaking her down with that piece of information.

“I don’t know,” he said, the lie sliding too easily past his lips for comfort. “It just happened.”

“‘It just happened,’” Grace repeated, her eyes locked on him. And they sat there like that for a moment, just looking at one another, her disappointment crashing down on him like rain in a hurricane. “Well, maybe you can ‘just happen’ to sleep on the daybeds tonight,” she told him before she stood, tightening the blanket around herself as she made her way back into the Villa.

Ozzy didn’t know how long he sat out there, sitting in the aftermath of everything he had desperately hoped to avoid. Eventually, he got up and went inside, grateful that the bedroom was already dark so no one could see him walk through it to get outside to the daybeds. Well, he started to walk that way. He ended up stopping in the living room when he saw Aubrey sitting on the couch, seemingly so lost in thought that she didn’t even notice he’d entered the room.

“Aubrey?” he said gently, and she turned, eyes widening briefly with surprise.

“Ozzy? What are you doing down here? I thought everyone went to bed.”

“I could ask you the same,” Ozzy said, managing a small smile as he stepped further into the room, settling down on the sofa next to her, just a few inches separating them. He knew he’d have to tell her at some point about the talk he’d had with Grace, mostly because he knew how fast word could spread around this place; he wanted her to hear everything from him before she heard it from someone else. But right now, the knife was still buried too deep, discomfort sitting too heavy in his stomach for him to want to recount it all.

“Didn’t feel much like sharing a bed with Elliot,” she admitted, and something akin to relief helped to ease the knife out a little bit, though not entirely. Elliot had come on pretty strong; he wouldn’t have been surprised if her head had been turned but that didn’t seem to be the case. “What about you? Not sleeping with Grace tonight?”

“You don’t beat around the bush, do you?” he asked, trying for something akin to teasing but even he could hear the slight strain in his voice.

Concern sparkled in her blue eyes, her expression softening. “Did something happen with you two?” 

Yes.

But as badly as he wanted to tell Aubrey everything, he also worried what she would think. Would she feel responsible somehow? Would she feel embarrassed that she and Ozzy hadn’t been as discreet as they thought they had been? Would she be disappointed in him that it had taken this long? His mind was still a mess after the conversation with Grace, and he wasn’t sure he could have this conversation with her right now.

Then again, look what had happened the last time he’d waited to be honest with someone he cared about.

Because at the end of the day, he had cared about Grace. He’d cared about her enough to try and preserve her feelings, to try and not let her down the way he had. And he cared about Aubrey, too. If he told her everything, there was the chance that maybe he’d let her down somehow. But there was also the chance that he wouldn’t. 

“Yeah, actually,” he said, steeling his nerves. “I told her that I was interested in someone else.”

“You did?” Aubrey asked, and he could hear the surprise in her voice, but there was something else there. Nerves, maybe? Hope? “What uh…what did she say?”

“She was upset, but I also think that she already knew,” Ozzy admitted, his gaze falling to where her hand rested on the sofa cushion, not even an inch from his own. He wanted to steal that inch and hold her, but he stopped himself. “She knew that I liked you,” he finally said, lifting his head to meet her gaze once more.

There it was. He hadn’t been able to say it to her before, too worried about hurting Grace to take the plunge even though Aubrey had been nothing but open since the beginning. And now it was out there. 

Now she knew.

Aubrey was quiet for a moment, and Ozzy could feel that discomfort growing heavier and heavier in his stomach. He wondered if maybe he’d waited too long to tell her. Or maybe she was worried about hurting people in the process. “Aubs, this wasn’t your fault,” he assured her, needing her to know that this was his responsibility and his alone. “This was all me. Grace could…she could feel me pulling away.”

He could practically see the wheels turning in her head, taking everything he’d just told her into consideration. It was a lot to take in, he knew that. Especially for her, especially when he knew she and Grace were friends.

He almost got up to leave and give her space before she finally spoke up again. “So, what does that mean for us, then?” 

“It means that I want you, Aubs. It’s you, okay? It’s been you since the beginning.”

Neither of them moved for a moment. It was like time stood still as they sat there just looking at one another. Ozzy didn’t know who actually moved first but then Aubrey was in his lap and she was kissing him.

They’d shared a few light kisses in challenges. Friendly. Respectful. 

This was anything but.

This was the kind of kiss that romance novelists wrote about, the kind of kiss that ruined every other kiss you’d ever have. It was like her lips were made for his, the way they seemed to respond to every slant of his mouth against her own. They were so warm and soft and responsive. She tasted like fucking sunshine, pure light that warmed him to his core.

She pulled away to catch her breath, but she didn’t move very far, her lips brushing against his as she spoke. “I’ve been wanting to do that since day one,” Aubrey said, and Ozzy couldn’t have kept the smile off of his face even if he’d wanted to. 

“Me too,” he murmured, before he leaned in and kissed her again, unable to keep himself away from her for longer than a few seconds.

Her lips parted under the pressure of his own, and he couldn’t stop himself from sliding his tongue over her full, lower lip before delving into her mouth. He could taste the minty toothpaste she’d used to brush her teeth before coming downstairs, the unexplainable sunshine and warmth that was just so perfectly Aubrey. He needed so much more of it. Call him a greedy bastard but he wanted to kiss her forever, to learn the places that made her gasp and moan and shift her pretty little hips over him the way she was now.

He heard her breath catch as his mouth moved to trace the soft edge of her jaw, and he smiled against her soft skin before trailing his lips down the column of her neck. He could smell her lavender shampoo, her silky brown hair tickling his nose as he kissed her. “Aubs,” he murmured as his lips came to rest at the base of her throat. He could feel her pulse hammering and he was sure his was pounding just as hard. It was like the sound of her nickname drew a shiver out of her, her back arching, pressing herself into him even more.

“I want you, Ozzy,” she said, her voice a little choked, and that was all he needed to hear.

He turned them, laying Aubrey on the sofa before settling on top of her, balancing on his elbows so he wasn’t bearing all of his weight on her small frame. He looked down at her, at her big blue eyes and her soft curls splayed around her head, and it felt like coming home. Like he was finally with the person he’d always been meant to be with.

She reached up and brushed a few loose strands of hair away from his face, her fingers trailing over his temple, his cheek, before she slid her hand behind his neck and pulled him down into another kiss. There was something languid about this kiss, like they had all the time in the world. It was like they were just soaking one another up, treasuring this time they suddenly had.

He could hardly believe that this was happening. He never imagined on that first day, when he’d been too worried to step forward for her that they would ever end up here. That she’d be looking at him the way she had, telling him that she wanted him. It almost hurt him how badly he’d wanted her then. How badly he wanted her now.

Ozzy ran his hand down her body, the warmth of her skin radiating through the thin fabric of her pajamas. When he reached the waistband of her bottoms, he drew back again to look at her, searching her expression for assurance that he could take this further. Aubrey nodded, allowing him to drag the shorts down her legs, dropping them onto the floor next to them.

He pressed his fingers against the silk fabric of her panties, teasing her for a moment before he slid them to the side. She was so fucking soft, he thought as he dragged his finger over her slit. She whimpered as soon as his finger brushed her clit before she pulled him into another kiss. “No teasing. No teasing, Ozzy, I don’t want to wait. I need you.”

I need you.

The words struck him to his core

It wasn’t the first time he’d ever heard those words, but it was the first time they’d ever made him feel as much as he did in this moment. “I don’t have anything on me,” he said, but she just shook her head.

“I’m on the pill,” she murmured, her voice low and her eyes heavy, and he wasn’t sure he would have been able to walk away from her even if he’d wanted to. Not when she was looking at him like that, like he was the only person in the world. 

He pulled his pajama bottoms and underwear down in one yank, his aching cock springing free. He fisted it in his hand, groaning at the momentary relief of stroking himself, before he lined it up at her entrance. “You sure?” he asked, his voice soft, and she nodded once more, capturing his lips in another kiss that had sparks flying through him from head to toe.

Ozzy pressed into her gently, taking his time, savoring the way she moaned against his mouth as he did so. “Fuck,” he swore when he was completely inside of her. Neither one of them moved for a moment, Ozzy letting her get adjusted to the feel of him, peppering kisses across her cheeks, her nose, her jaw as she relaxed. And when he felt she was ready, he slowly started to move his hips. She whimpered at the movement, and he wanted to catalog that sound and store it in the back of his mind forever because it was so fucking perfect.

“Ozzy,” she moaned, wrapping herself around him, pulling him impossibly close. They were chest to chest and he could feel her heart pounding, every beat serving as a reminder that this was real. That Aubrey was in his arms, kissing him like she’d never get the chance to kiss him again.

“It’s you, Aubs,” he whispered against her lips, repeating the same truth he’d told her moments ago. “It’s always been you.”

She clutched him like a lifeline, those little moans and whimpers like music to his fucking ears as he slowly thrusted into her, taking his time to make sure she knew that this wasn’t just some quick and dirty hookup. He wanted her to know that he was serious about this thing between them, that he would be there and that he wanted to take care of her. “Ozzy, Ozzy, Ozzy.” She said his name like a prayer, and he hoped to God he was answering it as he continued to worship her the way she deserved.

Ozzy slid his hand between them, his fingers lightly playing over her clit. “I’m so close, Ozzy,” Aubrey moaned, and he could feel her tighten around him.

“I know Aubs,” he said, pressing his face into the crook of her neck, her pulse beating rapidly under his lips. “I’ve got you.”

It was as if those words were all she needed to let go. She fumbled for him, dragging him back into her, muffling her moans against his mouth as she came around his cock, her tight walls squeezing him so fiercely that he knew he wasn’t far behind her. “Fuck, Aubs,” he groaned, kissing her hard as his own release hit him like a ton of bricks. He practically shuddered in her arms, his hand moving from her clit to hold her hip, gripping tightly as he rode the waves of his orgasm, pleasure prickling every inch of his skin.

When he had gathered his bearings, Ozzy slowly slid out of her before he moved them so she was laying on top of him.

 He looked down at her to find that she’d nestled her face into his chest, one arm slung lazily around him. Her brown curls were a little messy, a few of them clinging to her sweat-soaked temples. Her face was flushed, her cheeks the same shade of pink as the roses that used to grow along the sidewalk in front of his house. She was so fucking beautiful.

 For a moment, neither of them said anything and Ozzy was grateful for the quiet. It allowed him the chance to just soak in the fact that he and Aubrey were together. They had a shot.This gorgeous woman lying on top of him wanted him the way he wanted her; it felt too good to be true.

And maybe they both got sent home tomorrow, or maybe he got voted off or whatever the hell else could happen when they were here. But he knew that regardless of what happened, at least they had this. They had this moment where it was just him and her, where she knew how he felt about her and he knew how she felt about him.

Knowing that, knowing that at least he hadn’t let Aubrey down, was all that he needed.

#litg #litg fanfic #litg ozzy #litg season 6 #ellegreenwxy #litg writers room #love island the game #ask

[litgwritersroom]

can you please write the background story of ozzy hooking up with the mystery celebrity??

LET ME BE YOUR WOMAN

Ozzy / MC - 5000+ words - @mrsbsmooth NSFW

It’s professional. It’s strictly professional.

Ozzy rolled his neck, stretching the tension from his shoulders. He wasn’t sure why he was so nervous.

Being a choreographer was his dream job. The choreography videos he’d posted on social media had been fun to make, but he’d never imagined he’d get this big. Dance classes with a waitlist four months long. Invitations to choreograph music videos and international tours. Working one-on-one with celebrities and popstars, all to great success.

But he’d never worked with someone as famous as Brooke Barrow.

Millions of fans. Tens of millions of albums sold. A twenty-country international tour that had fans getting in fistfights over merchandise. And in just a few minutes, she’d take the podium as the biggest celebrity he’d ever taught.

He cast his eyes around the studio one final time, wiping a smudge from the floor-to-ceiling mirror with a silent curse. Did he have time to go over the whole thing again? He checked his phone. No. But he did have a text from Marshall.

Snogged yer worldie yet?

He frowned.

She’s not my worldie. She’s a client, he typed. This is professional.

The dots danced at the bottom of his screen as the reply came instantaneously. Professional my arse. I can feel you sweating from Essex.

Ozzy rolled his eyes, setting his phone to do-not-disturb.

Maybe it wasn’t strictly professional.

All the celebrities he worked with were gorgeous, but she was like something out of his imagination– though he supposed he wasn’t alone. Curves like murder, eyes wide and innocent, skin like a summer evening; bronze and glowing and warm. Hair like silk, and lips you couldn’t help but want to bite down on. FHM, Maxim and Playboy had tried beating her door down for years, not one of them successful; her “good girl” image hadn’t aligned with the type of photo spreads they’d want to put her in.

But things had changed. The label said she wanted a rebrand; a sexier, more grown-up persona better suited to her now 22-year-old self. The issue was that the label thought she had absolutely no idea how to look hot when she danced. She needed help to nail it for her next video.

And she’d requested him specifically.

They’d spoken on the phone many, many times, to clarify the vibe she was after, or discuss the preparations and stretches she should be doing beforehand. They got along great. She was a professional, but still wonderfully friendly, something he’d come to understand was rare among celebrities. She put on those sequin shorts she was famous for one leg at a time. There was nothing to be nervous about.

He made the last few adjustments to the studio, breathing steadily to calm himself down. He had the choreography down, he’d recorded it and it had been approved by her management team. Everything was set and ready to go. He just had to teach her how to do it, that was all.

But as the studio door flung open, he suddenly felt a little queasy.

God Damn.

Her perfectly curated Instagram had nothing on what she looked like in person. She was unreal, a loose, white t-shirt hung off her shoulders, exposing the hint of her brown skin. The flash of a black sports crop stretched over her perky breasts. Tiny, skin-tight shorts he was sure Lululemon never intended to be so pornographic, and heels; sky high, lace-up heels he’d told her to wear, knowing she’d need to be dancing in them on stage.

He had to avert his gaze, shaking some sense into himself as he greeted her with a smile and an outstretched hand.

“Brooke,” he said, as politely and professionally as he could. “I’m Ozzy, great to finally meet you.”

“Ozzy!” she grinned, smiling with recognition. She took his hand, shaking it gently, but didn’t immediately let go. “Hi! It’s so nice to meet you in person, I really am such a fan.”

Ozzy’s eyebrows shot up. “A fan… of… mine?”

She nodded enthusiastically. “Huge fan. I swear, about 50% of the views on your Youtube videos are from me and my friends.”

“Well, thank you,” he laughed, feeling a lot more at ease. “That’s really nice to hear. I’m glad you enjoy them.”

“Enjoy is one way to describe it. My friends would call it “drooling over…” she said, her eyes narrowing slightly. She bit her lip, and he couldn’t hide the surprise on his face.

…What?

He couldn’t help the rush of adrenaline that flooded his veins. Jeez, his dancing had helped him with women in the past, but… he definitely hadn’t expected—

Was Brooke… flirting with him?

He was suddenly a little at a loss of what to do. Flirting back would’ve been insane, not to mention crazy unprofessional. He couldn’t get a rep for flirting with his students. But… he knew this choreo– he’d created it himself. It wasn’t exactly “leave room for Jesus” type of dancing. So maybe a little harmless flirting would help her to feel less… exposed.

He glanced down at their still-enclosed hands, and looked back up at her, only vaguely trying to hold back the heat in his eyes.

“Well,” he said, a cool confidence in his voice. “I’ve obviously seen all of your music videos, too. Maybe we should leave it at that… for now.”

He held her gaze, and she bit those beautiful lips again, his eyes lingering on them. Brooke released his hand with a coy smile, placing her bag down on the floor in the corner of the studio. She pulled a water bottle from it, wrapping her lips around the mouthpiece of it, tapping it gently against her lips after taking a sip.

“So,” she said. “Where do we begin?”

*

Ozzy showed her every move, running her through it in sets, slowing her down and adjusting her position as she followed along.

But she wasn’t getting it.

She was rigid. Stiff, even, like she was embarrassed to fully let go.

“I’m so screwed,” she groaned, flopping to the floor to take a drink of water.

“No, you’re not,” Ozzy chuckled, sitting down alongside her. “You’ve got the steps down perfectly. You’re just too stiff.”

She sighed, tucking her leg underneath her as she turned to face him. “How do you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Make being sexy so fucking easy?”

Ozzy’s eyebrows twitched upward, and he couldn’t help but look her over once more. God, she looked so fine with a sheen of sweat over her body, the glow on her skin like she’d been kissed by sunlight.

“You’ll get it. You just need to loosen up. Let go a little.”

“You keep saying that, but I don’t know how,” she complained, pouting at him.

He laughed, getting to his feet. “Here, I’ll show you.”

He reached out his hand, helping Brooke to her feet, and she let him pull her up with a huff.

Ozzy led her to the mirror which spanned the breadth of the wall, turning her to look at herself.

“Okay, do the leg sweep.”

Brooke did a rigid leg sweep, her hands firmly on her hips.

He raised an eyebrow. “This isn’t jazz dance, Brooke. Make it slutty.”

She giggled, looking at his reflection in the mirror.

“Oh, you’re serious?”

“Yes, I’m serious,” he smiled.

“Oh, God, how on earth do I do that?”

Ozzy frowned at her. “Come on, Brooke, you’ve seen people dance seductively. Arch your back. Swing your hips. Run your hands over your body.”

He counted her in, and she tried, running her hands awkwardly up her body. She turned, looking hopefully at him, and he shot her a look of disbelief. Brooke blushed, and Ozzy shook his head, teasing her with his gaze to let her know it wasn’t that serious.

Then, he had an idea.

He’d used it many times, and it always worked. Every single time. He switched to the playlist one of his dancer friends had made him. She said it went hard in the Basildon dance crowd.

“You like clubbing, right?”

“...Yeah?”

“How do you dance in the club?”

“Awkwardly.”

Ozzy laughed. “I highly doubt that.”

Brooke grinned at him. “Yeah, alright, I’m probably a little more relaxed. But I’m usually drunk. And it’s dark.”

Without another word, Ozzy walked over to the door, and switched the lights off.

The studio plunged into darkness, the only light the emergency light over the exit. It was perfect, casting a deep red glow over the room, leaving her in almost full darkness. That deep maroon was the only thing allowing him to see her, and even then, only just. He hit play on the remote once more, smiling as the lyrics started.

Nails, hair, hips, heels, ass fat, lips real

Purse full, big bills, bitch I'm a big deal

Ozzy turned the volume almost to the max, and he took her hand.

“Pretend I’m not here,” he said. “It’s just you, dancing with your friends. Or dancing around your kitchen. No one’s paying attention. No one else is here.”

Ozzy started moving on his own to encourage her, and after only half a minute, he saw Brooke starting to move as well. She was hesitant, but quickly realised she could barely see him, gaining the confidence to start subtly dancing in time with the music.

“Yes,” he smiled. “That’s it.”

She huffed a small laugh, moving a little more confidently.

“Now you’re gonna walk,” he said, moving back across the room. “Or more like…, strut. Towards me. Step to the music.”

“What’s that gonna do?” she asked.

“Get you in touch with your body. And make you feel confident. Toss your hair over your shoulder, stop to dance, do whatever feels right. Just move in time with the music.”

He could just make her out in the low light, her brow furrowed as if she wasn’t sure, but he smiled encouragingly at her. As his eyes began to adjust, he saw her walking toward him, the click of her heels on the studio floor perfectly in time with the beat.

“Great!” he called, “Keep going!”

He began walking backwards around the room, drawing her towards him, and Brooke began laughing.

“You’re moving away!”

“Yeah, I know. Keep coming to me.”

“Ozzzzyyy–” she complained. “I feel stupid!”

“Good thing no one can see you, then, isn’t it?” he teased.

It wasn’t long before she started letting go a little.

As Todrick Hall started instructing her through the song, she started following along.

Drop for me, drop for me, drop

Pose for me, pose for me, pose

Striking dramatic, confident poses, or pausing to do a dramatic slut-drop, she was laughing her head off in no time, loosening up her movements as he finally stopped moving away. Brooke was having so much fun, she didn’t notice him stop, colliding into his chest with a thud.

“Oof,” he groaned, catching her by the upper arms, laughing.

“Oh my God, sorry!” she giggled. “I was getting too into it.”

“Good!” He grinned. “It’s a good exercise to get in the right headspace.”

“Can we keep going?” she said. “That was really fun.”

He slipped the remote from his pocket, hitting next, and Brooke burst out laughing as a deep, sultry rhythm started.

“Oh God,” she groaned. “Is this Buttons? Whose playlist is this?”

“Mate of mine. She loves making dance playlists. This one’s called ‘Hoe town, population me’.”

Brooke burst out laughing. “And you thought that was a good playlist to put on for me?”

Ozzy suddenly blushed, absolutely embarrassed that she might think he’d done that on purpose.

“God, Brooke, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean–”

“Shhh!” She laughed. “It’s exactly the vibe I need. I love this song.”

She took his hand, twirling herself underneath it, swaying in time with the beat. She was rolling her head around, relaxed and carefree, her shoulders beginning to follow as she sang along to the lyrics. And as she sang, he couldn’t help but watch her.

You've been saying all the right things all night long

But I can't seem to get you over here to help take this off

The way her mouth formed every word, her tongue flicking gently and her teeth biting at her lip as she began to move. Jesus Christ, she was sexy. He felt his body starting to react as she joined her hands with his, lifting his hands into the air between them. He couldn’t help but step a little closer, bringing them to the side as her body heat began to radiate against his.

Brooke began winding her body, moving her hips in time with the music. She lifted his arms again, turning herself underneath them, and wrapped them around her shoulders. He tried to keep some distance between them, knowing they didn’t need to be dancing so closely, but before he knew it, she’d pressed back against him, their bodies moving together.

“Can you show me how to do those body rolls you were doing before?” she asked, her voice soft and innocent.

Jesus, he was getting hot under the collar.

“Sure,” he said, pulling her just the necessary amount closer. He reached around her, pressing her back into him. “Chest first, shoulders back, then arch your back, pushing your stomach forward. Roll it through, then grind your hips back.”

He pressed his chest into her back, his hand pressing her shoulders back against him. He rolled her with him, her body bending flawlessly with his, ending with her guiding her world-famous ass back.

Directly into his crotch.

She had it straight away, rolling her body against his in a way that had him glancing up at the ceiling for mercy. Her perfume was intoxicating, rich and sweet like caramel and sea salt, and he inhaled deeply as she pulled her hair to the side. He could still hear her singing; it was like a distraction to her, pulling her out of the studio and onto the stage.

Take a chance to recognise that this could be yours—

She began to grind herself back against him, and his heart began to race for real. She felt so good against him, her hips winding into his… but his mind kicked back in.

Professional. Shit. Keep it professional.

“Looser,” he whispered. “Let go of your hips.”

She sighed, her shoulders dropping a little as she immediately became disheartened.

“I can’t do this,” she said, exasperated.

“Brooke,” he said. “You can.”

“I can’t,” she said, stopping altogether. “I just can’t move my body like you can.”

Ozzy frowned to himself. She was almost there when she thought no one was watching. Whenever it was just her and the music, she was perfectly on beat, playing and having fun with it, moving with flawless rhythm. It would take so little to get her there. He just needed to get her out of her own head. Relax her. Get her thinking about something else entirely. He swallowed, hard. Because there was only really one way he could think how.

People acted differently depending on how they were feeling, and there was one mood that he knew would help her. The one that curbed shame and increased risk-taking.

He could turn her on.

“Would it help if I guided you?” he asked, his voice low and husky.

“Please,” she groaned.

“I’ll have to touch you a bit though. Is that alright?”

“Yeah,” she said, “but I don’t think–”

Brooke’s voice cut off halfway as he pulled her body flush to his, and she gasped a little at his sudden taking of control.

“Hips,” he demanded. ”Roll them, like you were before.”

He gently brushed her hips, but her movements were static, so he gripped her harder, guiding her firmly into the movement he wanted to see. Side to side, in a one-two grind, swaying her with the music.

“Oh,” Brooke said, her voice quiet. “So…”

He felt her begin rocking into his hands, and he leaned in closer, speaking into her ear so she could hear him over the music.

“Yes,” he hissed. “That’s it. Now hands.”

He didn’t wait for her to try, taking her hands and placing them on her stomach.

“Run them up your body,” he said, covering them with his own. “Touch yourself like you would want someone else to touch you.”

He traced her hands over her taut stomach, guiding them up over her ribs, brushing her breasts and squeezing them with her own hands. Brooke gasped, but Ozzy didn’t stop, dragging them up over her collarbones and onto her neck. He splayed them on her skin, threading them into her hair.

“Ozzy,” she whimpered.

“Don’t be afraid to get into it,” Ozzy whispered. “If it turns you on, you’re doing it right.”

Brooke’s breath fell heavy, and he released her hands, letting her guide them over herself. He watched her in the mirror, her face glowing in the soft, red light, and the hair on the back of his neck stood up as she closed her eyes. Her hands threaded back into her own hair, and she tugged on it gently, trailing her hands onto her collarbones. She traced her fingers across them, and moved downward, her touch falling heavier on her breasts. She squeezed them together, much harder than he had, and kept going. Lower and lower, over her stomach, trailing down her waist, her hands like a magnet for his gaze as she directed them to the space between her legs. She spread them, bending low to the floor, and traced her hands up the back of her thighs, scratching her nails into the skin. She arched her back, touching herself over and over again.

And Ozzy realised he’d stopped dancing.

All this, right in front of him, an arm’s reach away but feeling like miles. Her body was so effortless, moving with all the beauty and elegance of someone who’d been dancing for a lifetime. He was absolutely entranced by her, the heat in his body like a fire in his blood.The song ended, and for a moment, the trance was broken. But as the next one started, he knew there was absolutely nothing he could do to stop what was going to happen. Doja Cat was going to make sure of that.

The beat was low; seductive and sensual and sex in music’s form, and Brooke turned, gazing at him with deep, hooded eyes. She was in his arms before he could even pull her closer, her body pressed back against his as they began to move as one. He wrapped his arms around her waist, that intoxicating perfume curling into him once more, groaning as Brooke took his hands in hers.

She placed his hands on her, covering them with her own, just as he had, and began guiding him over her skin. Her hips, her waist, under her t-shirt, pushing them onto her breasts.

Baby, worship my hips and waist

So feminine with grace

I touch your soul when you hear me say

"Boy, let me be your woman"

Every drop of blood in his body was rushing south, and he grasped her in a way that was wholly unprofessional, knowing she could feel what she was doing to him. He moved her hair to the side, dropping his lips to her neck, dragging them from behind her ear down to her shoulder. God, he wanted to bite her, her skin tasted exactly like her fragrance, the sweetest caramel with the delicious taste of her sweat.

“Ozzy,” she whispered, gasping for a breath as she reached behind her head and threaded her fingers through his hair.

Jesus, this was already going way too far, but he couldn’t help himself. One hand was on her breast, stroking her rapidly hardening nipples through her bra. The other on her stomach, toying with the waistband of her shorts. Brooke was grinding her ass against him with a wind that would put professionals to shame, the roll of her body against his only drawing more and more heat from his breath. He had to stop this. He had to stop before it went too–

Before he knew it, she’d turned, and her lips were on his.

Ozzy picked her up, and a moment later, he had her against the wall, holding her thigh around his waist as he held her legs apart. Brooke’s hands were in his hair, holding him against her as she slipped her tongue into his mouth, whimpering with need as he began rolling his hips against hers. She tugged at his shirt, and he gladly let her pull it over his head, drawing an irresistible whimper from her as she traced her fingers over his abs. He pulled hers over her head as well, tossing it across the room, before pushing his hands into her sports bra.

“Fuck, yes,” she gasped, “Yes, Ozzy, please!”

He lifted the tight fabric higher, exposing her to him, and leaned down to take her nipple in his mouth. She held his head to her, her back arched, moaning with each flick of his tongue against the sensitive bud. Brooke reached down, slipping her hand into his sweats, stroking her fingers down his length as he groaned into her skin.

“Oh my Goddddd,” she moaned as she traced his full length. “I knew it, I fucking knew it.”

He couldn’t help it, his body completely on fire with every kiss of her palm against his tip. He couldn’t take it any more. He curled his arm around her waist, sliding it into the tiny shorts that had been tormenting him since the moment she walked in, and he took a handful of her ass for himself. He rolled the fabric down his wrist, exposing her, before pushing the shorts all the way down. She reached down, tugging them far enough down that they fell to her ankles, and she stepped out of them. She reached down for her shoes, but he stopped her, turning her face toward his.

“Leave them on.”

Naked except for her pushed-up sports bra and lace up heels, she stood like a goddess in front of him, every curve and angle of her body bathed in a cherry-red glow. His fingers traced her outline, admiring her for the work of art she was, before lingering on the heat radiating from between her legs. He pressed his fingers against her clit, starting a slow, steady rhythm, holding her legs open with his own as he pressed his hard length against her leg.

She tugged his sweats down, pulling him closer, and before he could even think about what he was doing, she was guiding his tip to her entrance. He captured her lips with his, groaning at how wet she was, and began to push inside her.

Brooke whimpered and moaned at his size, and he pulled back for a moment.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he whispered, kissing her softly.

She let her head fall back, exposing her neck to him, an opportunity he gladly took as he began kissing up and down it.

“No,” she groaned. “Oh my God, Ozzy, give me all of it.”

So he did.

Brooke gasped with each thrust, whimpering and moaning his name as if he was her favourite song, and he couldn’t help his eyes rolling back as he savoured her. Every roll of his hips was met by one of hers, drawing forward to meet him as if she couldn’t bear for him to not be inside her.

Jesus, he couldn’t believe she thought she couldn’t dance.

“Ozzy,” she groaned, and he paused for a moment, hearing the pain in her voice. “My heels. My feet are–”

Shit, he hadn’t even realised, capturing her thigh in his hand meant she’d been balancing on one heel. He released her, and she dropped to her knees, laying back on the studio floor, her hands against the wall. Ozzy kneeled in front of her, and she wrapped her long legs around his waist, urging him back toward her. He pressed back into her, his hands on either side of her body, and something came over him.

He’d never had a one-night stand before, it wasn’t his vibe. And almost as if he’d only just realised what he was doing, he paused for moment, looking down at Brooke’s exposed body.

Damn. He’d never had a one night stand before, and he wasn’t going to start now.

He was just going to have to make sure this wasn’t a one-night stand.

Ozzy smirked a little, glancing up at Brooke’s hands to make sure she was holding her hands steady against the wall…

And he danced.

He gave her every movement of his body that he had; hips, torso, thighs; rolling his body into her as he drew himself in and out of her, over and over and over. Brooke’s body wrenched underneath him, begging him with her thighs, squeezing him tightly as she held herself off the wall.

She caught a glimpse of them in the mirror to their side, and she gasped, panting his name with every thrust as she watched him build her toward her peak.

“Fuck, fuck,” she gasped, her voice damn near at a cry, every breath like a wave of curses and groans as she tried to hold back. “Ozzy, fuck, I’m gonna–”

She whimpered, her mouth falling open, and he almost chuckled at how fast he’d brought her there. But he couldn’t help but groan in response as she tightened around him, her strong thighs squeezing his waist as her walls gripped his length inside her.

“Oh Jesus, Brooke, yes,” he whispered, throwing his head back as he guided her through the waves of her climax. He gently slowed as she came down, rolling softly into her so as not to overstimulate her. But almost as soon as she’d taken a breath, she opened her eyes.

She looked up at him with the deepest, hooded eyes he’d ever seen, her full lips parted and her lips wet from his kiss.

“On your back,” she whispered.

Ozzy’s eyebrows raised, and before he could even tell her she didn’t have to, she had him on his back. Brooke slid him back into her, and he smiled up at her…

Until she started moving.

Up. Down. Forward. Back. Side to side and directions he didn’t even know existed. She was a full-body experience, her hips grinding into his, her hands gently caressing and scratching at his chest as she worked herself over him.

“Je–sus–christ,” he gasped, grasping for purchase with each grind of her hips. “Brooke, fuck!”

Her lips fell open, moaning as she watched him underneath her, and she glanced one more time at the mirror. He turned his own head, glancing at their reflection, and almost lost control. Every curve was on full display, her back arched, her breasts exposed, her every movement captured in glass and reflected back at him as he watched her ride him.

She caught his eye in the mirror, biting her lip and moaning as she took him especially deeply.

“Oh, God, Ozzy, you feel so good,” she gasped.

Ahh, Jesus, he was close.

He tried to slow her down, but Brooke had no interest in it, closing her eyes and lifting her pace. So he did the only thing he could do.

He started thrusting back into her.

He fell into her rhythm, meeting her hips with every movement, echoing and mirroring and taking back the lead. His hands left her hips, and he reached for her hands, bringing them to her breasts.

“Touch your body,” he demanded. “Brooke, touch yourself.”

She whimpered, squeezing her breasts the way she’d shown him before that she loved, and Ozzy grabbed her hip once more. He guided her with one hand, thrusting up into her, and brought his other hand to her clit, grinding his fingers against her as he watched her rolling her nipples through her fingers.

Jesus, the visual was too much, and he could feel the sweat dripping down the back of his neck. He was so close, dancing so close to the edge, holding back for her, desperate to–

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Brooke, shit, shit–”

“Ozzy–”

With a sudden heave of her body, Brooke snapped, her head falling back as she came a second time. The tightness surrounded him, and he couldn’t have held back if he wanted to, exploding in a wall of gasping moans as he bucked up into her. The beat of the music pumped through him, the roll and wind of their hips together like a wave of ecstasy that they rode each other through. His fingers left marks on her hips, grinding her back into him with some unholy urge to come as deep into her as possible, and it only drew a darker gasp from Brooke’s lips.

They stayed like that for what seemed like an age, their hips rolling in perfect unison as they came down from the high together. Brooke collapsed on top of him, her body soft and limp against his, and he wrapped her up in his arms, completely at a loss of what to say.

“That was fucking incredible,” Brooke said, panting heavily into his chest. “If that’s what dancers can do, I need to get better at dancing.”

Ozzy laughed, stroking her back. “You seemed to have pretty good control of your hips from where I’m standing?”

Brooke lifted her head, glaring playfully at him, and smiled. “Glad you think so… now. But I think I can get even better.”

He kissed her gently, smiling back, a little amused at his own boldness. “Well, you’re doing classes with me five times a week for the next two weeks. So…”

Brooke giggled, and leaned over him, kissing him deeply. He groaned into her soft lips, holding her to him, stroking his hand through her hair before releasing her. She bit her lip, an adorably excited look in her eyes, and grinned at him.

“It’s a date.”

#litg #litg fanfic #LITG ozzy #LITG season 6 #LITG double trouble #MrsBSmooth #litg writers room #writers room #love island the game #ask #litg ff

[litgwritersroom]

Hiii I love your page, can you please write something for Jamal or Lewie where the producers stop them from following us out when we gets dumped? I would love to see the behind the scenes

STAY

Jamal / MC - 2400+ words - @tammyisobsessedwith

When the girl he was falling for gets dumped, Jamal is almost ready to walk out the door after her.

“The Islander who will be leaving the Villa tonight is… Olivia.”

Shocked gasps reverberate in the still night air as the whole group hears those words, Ozzy’s voice sounding hollowed out as he reads the name in the text message. 

It takes a moment for it to sink in, Jamal looking across the firepit as their fellow Islanders react to the shattering news: the softly whispered ‘no’ coming from Bella sitting next to him, so at odds with her usually upbeat and loud personality; how Amelia’s whole body seemed to coil in on itself, her hands coming up to cover her lips as her eyes immediately shine brighter with unshed tears. Grace looks shell-shocked, like she can’t believe what’s happened as she stands there with her mouth hanging open, her hands still tightly wound around Olivia’s. The other boys’ reactions are all in the same line, the absolute bombshell news rendering everyone speechless as no one saw this coming.

As for Olivia… Liv seems petrified, eyes wide and her lips just slightly parted as if her breath was stolen away. She looks as if she were in a daze then the next moment her brown eyes sharply meet Jamal’s over the blazing firepit and he can feel so many different emotions passing through the air between the two of them with that single look that it almost knocks him over.

“No way,” Jamal hears himself saying it, but he can’t really recognise his own voice. Blood rushes in his ears and there’s a tightness in his throat that actually makes it a little hard to breathe.

The sound of a text coming through brings reality crashing down on all of them. Olivia recovers somewhat from the shock as she reaches for her phone with slightly trembling hands. “Olivia, your time on Love Island has come to an end. You have thirty minutes to pack your bags. Please say your goodbyes and leave the Villa.”

“Oh my god, no!” Amelia exclaims, getting up and out of Roberto’s arms as she crosses over to her twin sister in a few rapid steps, her high-heeled sandals clicking loudly on the wooden floor. She throws her arms around Olivia and buries her head in her shoulder, her sister stumbling slightly on her feet with the force of this sudden movement, then she hugs Amelia back and gently pats her on the head.

That seems to put the whole Villa in motion again, everyone getting up and crowding up around Olivia. The other girls join the two sisters in a group hug and everyone starts talking again, saying how it can’t be real and how there must be some mistake.

Jamal is still reeling, as not only he’d just lost his best friend from the Villa when they’d sent Lewie and Chloe home just a few minutes ago, but now his girl is also leaving. The other boys come with comforting pats on his back, even Elliot walks over with a grimace on his face as he offers his sympathies. 

Even though the gamer had picked Olivia at the last recoupling, she had remained loyal and unofficially coupled up with Jamal the last few days, as they slept out in the daybeds or in the lounge and they’d still been spending a lot of their time together. Despite the newest bombshell’s efforts, Elliot wasn’t able to turn her head, as Olivia was simply friendly with him but she made it quite clear that her eggs were still firmly in Jamal’s basket.

But now… It doesn’t seem fair. It was supposed to be a matter of time, just waiting until the next recoupling before they were officially back together, as it always should’ve been. How could they be sending home the one person who personifies the heart of the Villa and this whole Love Island journey? And for Jamal specifically, he doesn’t see much of a point in staying if she’s leaving.

After all, that is the name of the game. And listen, he isn’t one to talk about fate or destiny and bullshit like that ─ that’s the sort of thing Ryan was always going on about in his flowery speeches or song lyrics. Jamal believes that we make our own lives and he has created his path from scratch, with his own hands and the skills he has after a lot of hard work. He’d thought coming on Love Island would be 1) a laugh, 2) a great opportunity to put his brand on the map, and 3) a chance for a cheeky summer fling, at most.

But what he’s found with Olivia is unlike anything he has ever experienced before. Not only is she drop-dead gorgeous and one of the hottest women he’s ever met (and trust him, he’s met a lot of hot women over the years), but she can also make him laugh and enjoy the little moments together while also dreaming up big things for the future. He loves her ambition, how she has so many topics she feels passionate about and all the projects that she wants to implement through her social media presence and the charity she works with. He loves her energy, how she wants to be everyone’s friend and how much she enjoys taking care of people and hyping them up. She’s so upbeat and charismatic that he can’t help but fall under her spell, his own smile shining so brightly whenever he manages to make her laugh.

Man, he could go on and on! To be honest, he can’t really explain what it is about this girl that actually made him run around gathering flowers to spell hearts and make grand declarations. He just knows she’s someone special and that she’s brought out feelings that he’d never felt before, and since he doesn’t have his camera or his skateboard to express himself, it needed to come out somehow. Luckily Liv thought it was the cutest thing, she still keeps a bunch of the wilting flowers on her bedside table and refuses to throw them out.

All of these thoughts swirl in his mind as he thinks about what it will mean for the two of them now that she’s leaving. He doesn’t really know how he ends up sitting down again, but the firepit is quieter as everyone else walks away and she’s with him now, kneeling on the floor between his legs as she looks up at him with a small smile.

“What the fuck, Liv.” He says, his voice still sounding strange to his own ears. “How can you be dumped?”

“It’s part of the game, babe,” she says with a casual shrug, almost as if she’s convincing herself of her own words. “We never know how we’re coming across to the people out there.”

“That’s bullshit,” he says with a mirthless laugh. “You’re the best one of us, if people don’t love you then they’re just wrong,” he adds defiantly.

“You’re just sweet on me, you’re biassed,” she counters with a teasing smile and he can’t help but smile a little in return. “Listen, you stay and have fun,” Liv says, her voice just above a whisper, her eyes shining brighter.

“Without you?” He grimaces at the thought. “Doesn’t sound much fun.”

“Yeah I know, but you should stay,” she insists with a gentle tone. “You have so many things you want to accomplish…” 

She doesn’t need to say it out loud, he knows what she means: the more air time he gets, the more exposure, the better chances he has to make deals once he’s out of Love Island to get his brand off the ground.

He feels his heart hurting at the thought that she’s still thinking of him first and all the plans they were making for the future. He knows it’s a big decision to make, but right then the fact that she wants him to stay makes him want to go even more.

“I’ll be waiting outside,” she continues with that small smile. “And if you happen to find someone here who absolutely blows your mind─”

“Not gonna happen,” he interrupts her with a shake of his head.

“We never know,” she counters with a shrug. “All I’m saying is… I’ll understand. You know I only want the best for you, right?”

“I’ve already found the best,” he argues back, running his hands through her hair before cupping her face and kissing her gently. Olivia lets him pull them up to their feet, their arms wrapping around each other as their lips meet in a gesture that’s sweet and comforting, something that they’re so used to by now, as if kissing each other was something they’d been doing forever and would spend another eternity doing together.

Their lips pull apart, but they’re still in each other’s arms. Olivia lays her head on his shoulder while Jamal buries his nose in her hair and inhales deeply. Her familiar scent is enough to ground him a little.

“You know I think you’re pretty amazing, too. I may be leaving the Villa, but I’m not going anywhere,” she says with a smile into the curve of his neck, pressing a soft kiss to his warm skin. “Relax and have fun with the boys. I’ll be waiting outside.”

Jamal shakes his head despondently then kisses her quickly one last time before they turn and head up to the Villa. They rejoin the group as they sit around and help her pack her bags and in almost no time at all they’re stood by the front door as Olivia says her final goodbyes.

Amelia is a complete mess, tears running down her face as she hugs her twin tightly one last time. Everyone gives her the biggest hugs as she makes the rounds and she saves Jamal for last, whispering the same comforting words that he should try and have fun and she’ll be waiting for him.

Even after the door is closed and she’s long gone he’s still staring straight ahead, a frown on his face. “It feels wrong,” he says to no one in particular. “It almost feels like a break up. I mean, not that I’d know since I’ve never been through an actual break up, but I imagine this is what it feels like.”

“Hey, just sleep on it,” Ozzy offers with a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Tomorrow you might feel better. But if you still feel like it, you just do what you gotta do.”

All the girls give him hugs and the lads clap him warmly on the back as they turn from the entrance back to the bedroom. Jamal lingers, eyes still on the closed front door and a frown on his face as his hands reflexively clench and relax by his side.

He is the first one called to the Beach Hut to give his impressions on everything that has happened that day. He initially thinks of putting up a front, trying to protect his ego (and his heart), but when he’s actually sitting there on the couch he’s a little surprised at how emotional he feels, as it seems to sink in that Liv is really gone.

He feels pretty raw when he leaves the Beach Hut, exposed and emotionally exhausted in a way that’s never happened before. He feels like he could sleep for days but at the same time he’s wired and wide awake, the many possibilities of what he could do next buzzing in his mind and demanding his attention, so for a moment he just stands there in the hallway, leaning his back against the wall before he notices one of the producers leaving the production booth next to the Beach Hut. He’s seen her a few times now, usually coming around to retape something if the wind interferes with catching what they’re saying or to admonish them when they have long conversations without their mics in the pool. 

The woman offers him a sympathetic smile and removes her headset before she comes to stand just next to him.

“I just wanted to say, I know that was hard,” she says softly. “And I know you’re thinking of leaving.”

“Yeah, I really am,” Jamal says with a heavy sigh, rubbing his fingers on his temple. “In fact, I was just thinking of asking someone from production if I could pack my bags and go.”

“Technically you can, we’re not gonna stop you if that’s what you really want,” she answers, a small frown marked between her eyebrows. “But I really, really think you should stick around, at least for a few days. You’re coming out of this whole thing right now, a little time to process it might be good.”

“It’ll just feel so weird in here without her, y’know?” Jamal says, running a hand down his face in a tired motion. “She’s so much part of my journey here, from day one. And everything we’ve been through? It’s like this is another test and I’m failing.”

“You’re right, it could be a test. Or it might be the thing that makes you stronger than ever,” she counters, her voice soft. “Sometimes these things happen in relationships and how you handle it makes all the difference. For instance, you and Olivia live in different cities. How will you handle spending time apart and doing long distance?”

“I─” He starts to answer reflexively, before pausing and frowning a little. “I don’t know. We hadn’t talked about all of that yet.”

The producer nods, knowing that would’ve been his answer. “You could use the next few days to think about all of that, it might give you the clarity you need,” she offers with a casual shrug. As he remains frowning, she lets out a small sigh before continuing. “Just trust me on this one, okay? Don’t make any rash decisions that you might regret later. Plus, she did tell you to stay and have fun.”

Jamal simply nods back at her, so she smiles once more before heading back into the production room. He thinks the producers just want to make sure he stays as everyone watching at home will be tuning in the next day to see if he stays or if he leaves and it will make for good TV drama.

But Liv wanted him to stay and have a good time. Well, he doesn’t know how much of a good time he’ll have without her around, but he figures he owes it to her to at least try.

#litg #litg fanfic #litg jamal #litg season 6 #litg double trouble #tammyisobsessedwith #litg writers room #writers room #love island the game #ask

[litgwritersroom]

Allegra F/F??? My bitch queen needs some love

TRUTH OR DARE

Allegra / MC - 2800+ words - @crimswnred

If you see us in the club, we'll be acting real nice. If you see us on the floor, you'll be watching all night 🎶

Allegra put on another layer of her favorite pink strawberry-flavored gloss and flipped her hair back. She could hear the insistent sound of the leaking tap echoing into the silence as Jen started fighting to tie her hair up next to her, looking dumb as she did it too. To be fair, however, absolutely everything that day was getting on Allegra's nerves. And this damn lip gloss wasn't working.

With a 'thump', she snapped, slamming her fist against the sink. "Ugh, this stupid thing."

Beside her, Jen jumped on her feet. "What the fuck, Allegra?"

Allegra side-eyed Jen. She could kill her right here but that wasn't a good idea nor a good look. "Sorry, just stress because of the ratings."

Jen seemed to understand it right away. Everyone was stressed because of the ratings. At the dance academy, a good rating was basically the fastest way to get a solo or, who knows, be part of a play or dance crew for an artist. As a modern dancer, of course she was competing with a bunch of really good girls and that alone took her stress levels off the charts. To put it quite simply, Allegra hated the ratings. 

Not that she was a bad dancer. God, no. She had a few solos already, she passed some tests, she had won some competitions and even joined some famous people on their tour. However, that was before she joined the Academy.

Giulia was a fucking good dancer, everyone was well aware of that ever since she had her first ballet class and left Mrs Kensington looking impressed – which for the old lady meant she had an eyebrow up and that sparkle on her usually opaque brown eyes. Allegra had seen her dance a few times and, although she didn't believe she was that good at first, she had to admit that she had never seen someone look that… light while dancing. She was just like a feather. 

And that was so annoying. Before her, Allegra was the shit at the academy. All eyes on her, forever top of the rantings, the only one to get ovations at the showcase. She was the moment and everyone wanted a piece of her. Then, Giulia came from the depths of Italy with her annoying accent, doll-like feature, straight as fuck strawberry blonde hair and perfect shaped petite body. Ridiculous.

"I mean, at least you're, like, 2nd spot!" Jen smiled at her through the mirror. "I'm, like, sixty."

Allegra closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Oh, god, Jen was making it really hard not to kill her right there. "I swear to god, Jennifer, if you don't shut the fuck up right now."

That seemed to get her quiet.

Allegra grabbed her stuff from the sink and threw it all on her pink bag with a huff. Not even looking back, she made her way out of the bathroom and waltzed through the academy, hoping she would be able to leave to her dorm without bumping into anyone. She just wanted to lay down on her bed and re-watch her favorite season of Pretty Little Liars.

But, of course, she bumped into someone.

Giulia.

"Hey, Leggy!"

As usual, her drawn-by-god's-hands face had zero makeup on, displaying the layer of random-placed freckles and the pointy nose everyone envied. Her thick, long hair was pulled up in a perfect bun, not a single strand of hair daring to escape it. Covering her torso, she had the tight black collant on and the supper short cropped black hoodie with a single tiny rainbow right on its center. To match, she had those low-waisted baggy gray sweatpants. Ugh.

Giulia smiled at her and Allegra's stomach flipped. She couldn't stand her, god. "Hey… Giulia! How's it going?"

"Super! Just got the ratings!" Giulia scratched her neck and gave Allegra a nervous chuckle. Oh, she was playing it coy now? The audacity. "Congrats on the second spot, by the way!"

That struck a nerve. Oh, my fucking god. Allegra could hear the venom dropping from every word she was saying, it didn't matter how much she tried to play it as friendly. 

"Thanks," Allegra crossed her arms, looking right into Giulia's stupid honey eyes. "Is that the reason why you stopped me, though? 'Cause I really need to go back to my dorm."

Giulia looked taken aback for a second but she quickly recovered, plastering a smile on her lips easily. The whole conversation had an overly sweet tone but there was a classic female rivalry between the lines.

"I was just wondering if you're going to Sammi's party tonight?" She leaned against the wall, eying Allegra up and smirking.

She knew Sammi. They had some classes together. She also knew that Sammi was number 3 on the rankings. Which meant she used to be to Allegra what Allegra was now to Giulia. If that makes sense. She also knew that her last party was busted by the headmistress and that the attendants were punished by her after being caught smoking weed. Something that was completely banished from the Academy.

So, no, Allegra wasn't planning to hit Sammi's party that night. But she also wasn't planning to be hit on the face with all of Giulia's mean attitude, so hey, she was allowed to change her mind, right?

"Yep," she popped the 'p' with some of her bubbling rage. "See you there?"

Giulia winked at her before unpeeling herself from the wall. "You know it, girl."

Two hours later, Allegra was wearing the tiniest of skirts known to mankind and the tightest shirt she could find in her wardrobe. Her hair was up in a high ponytail so she could let her long earring flow in a sparkly silver cascade along her neck. At least, she looked hot, even though she didn't want to be there.

When she got to Sammi's stupid mansion — she knew Samantha's mom was a really famous ballet dancer but she wasn't aware her dad owned a fucking stock company — she spotted Giulia immediately. Of course, she was wearing a black dress that hugged every inch of curve she had on her body. Her hair was down, running down her back and flowing as she danced. Without her collant, her breasts were much more flattering.

Allegra ran her curious eyes over her body and she just noticed Giulia was staring back at her when she had already scanned her entire body. Avoiding to meet Giulia's gaze, Allegra swallowed hard and turned around, making a beeline to the kitchen. Or more specifically, the fridge freezer.

She grabbed one drink and unscrewed the lid with ease, already necking the bottle without thinking twice. Suddenly, the weight of the stressful test week and ratings released was off her shoulder, and she felt like she could finally breathe. Or was it the alcohol invading the space inside her head?

"Someone is having a bad day."

Oh, god! Allegra jumped on her feet. The feminine yet deep voice took her off guard. With a frown, she turned to its owner. Giulia had a playful smile on her lips as she watched Allegra react to her mere existence. Was that girl never tired of making her life a living hell? Jesus.

"Yeah, and who's fault is that?" Allegra spit the words fast, reminding herself they were in public and that the words wouldn't escape her if she talked a little slower. "You keep haunting me."

However, Giulia didn't seem to mind the harsh tone of her voice. Instead, she chuckled and jumped onto the cabinet, sitting on top of it. "Aw, does that mean you've been thinking about me?"

… wait, what?

Suddenly, Allegra's point of view shifted. Giulia was playing with the ends of her hair, twirling them. She had blushed cheeks and a restrained smile she could barely keep out of her stupid face. Her body was turned to Allegra, her cleavage leaning quite strategically.

… wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait.

Allegra must've been looking at her with a stupid face because then Giulia was throwing her head back with a heartfelt laugh. "You're so cute when you're flustered, Rossi."

Fuck off.

Before Allegra could say anything more, Giulia jumped out of the counter and left back to the dance floor, leaving her with a flipping stomach and some scrambled thoughts. What the fuck Is going on? 

Allegra decided to just ignore her extremely high heart rate and grabbed another drink. That one was dry way quicker than the first one and it wasn't long until she grabbed a third. That's when she spotted Jen. Or rather, Jen spotted her.

Great.

"Oh, my god, you came!" Jen ran at her, grabbing her arm as if she was invited, welcomed to. "When you said these parties were just a lame excuse to get high and call attention, I really thought I'd never see you in one of these again!"

It goes without saying that Allegra didn't recall being that much of a stuck up.

"I just thought I could use the distraction," Allegra said untangling herself from Jen. "Have you seen Sammi, by the way?!"

Jen just shook her head, looking a little confused, and Allegra just huffed in reply. Already fighting an annoying roll of her eyes, she left Jen there by the kitchen's counter, digging her way around the party and random people's sweaty bodies. Eyes sharp, she tried to find Sammi, just to say hello and then leave so she could never think about what Giula said again, after all, she was just drunk — or at least that was what Allegra told herself.

But her eyes, wandering as always, find their way to Giulia's moving body like they usually would do. She was swaying her hips, just far enough from Allegra that she would seem out of reach. Her lips followed the song along, echoing every word Madonna blasted through the speakers. Was it 4 Minutes?

Next to her, no, grinding her, Ozzy — also known as number four at the ratings — was mimicking her moves, trying to fit in with her body. He was good, the best guy at the academy, but something about the slow way his hands ran through Giulia's body rhythmically made Allegra's stomach tie in a knot. She couldn't quite say why but they just didn't fit well together. He was not giving Justin Timberlake the way Giulia could give Madonna.

In the middle of the dance floor, it didn't take long for random people to start to dance around Allegra. As she tried to keep an eye out for Giulia and get her alone, she accidentally got herself in the middle of two dances. She recognised the girl smiling in front of her, Kat, who was known for her sensual and provocative moves. Behind Allegra, Jamal from her ballet class had his hand on her hips, following the beat.

She could feel Jamas breath on her neck and Kat's skin against her as Madonna sang her part of the chorus. She looked back at Giulia, who was now touching Ozzy's neck, keeping him close. Her eyes, however, were distracted. Watching Allegra.

Against her better judgement, Allegra mimicked Giulia's moves, bringing Kat closer to her own body and hoisting her hips against Jamal. When she saw the smirk on Giulia's lips, her heart skipped at best.

Even though the room was full with random people, it was like they were the only people there.

Then, the song changed. Now, Timbaland's Give It To Me was blasting from the speakers and Giulia was shoving Ozzy to the side. Soon enough, she had crossed the space between them, standing right there in front of Allegra.

She didn't say anything. Instead, she put her hand on Allegra's waist and brought her closer. In less than a minute, they were sweating together, moving as if they shared the same body, swaying hips as the beat went again and again. Allegra could feel the eyes on her but she didn't care. Not when Giulia moved her fingertips along her skin like that, leaving tingles and sending waves of pure electricity through her body.

Their faces were closed, their bodies was glued to one another, their heartbeats were synched. There was not a single part of Allegra that was moving without asking Giulia's for permission. Giulia was leading and Allegra would follow her anywhere.

The song came to an end way too soon. Allegra fought the disappointment, trying not to show it when Giulia put even the smallest space between them, focusing on the satisfied smile she had on her face as she panted and ran her fingers through her hand.

"I've never felt so alive, fuck!" She screamed the last word, sounding completely crazy. Yet, Allegra couldn't agree more.

"Hey, Giu?" Allegra heard someone calling. It was Ozzy, smiling that stupid boyish smile he usually had on when she was hitting on a girl. Giulia twirled on her heels, putting even more space between them. "Wanna play truth or dare?"

"Sure!" Giulia agreed and Allegra would've been too disappointed if Giulia didn't immediately turn to her and ask, "Wanna play with us?"

Two possibilities crossed Allegra's mind. She could say no and then go home before someone asked her to do something stupid like running naked and the photo evidence ended up on Instagram… or, she could say eyes and have an excuse to ask Giulia what all of that meant.

Needless to say she went with the second option.

There were around five people in the room already, sitting in the middle of the floor, next to the sofa. Kat, Jamal, Jen, Will from ballet and Sammi were laughing at something Allegra figured couldn't be that funny anyway.

"Hey, Ozzy! C'mon, did you find a bottle?" Willem shouted but Ozzy just shrugged.

"We don't need a bottle, just pick someone and ask them, easy!" Giulia said as she opened some space between Sammi and Jamal so she could sit, bringing Allegra with her.

"Sure, and who starts?" Willem gave Giulia a look Allegra found a little out of pocket.

"Me!" Sammi butted in. "It's my house, after all."

"Fair enough…"

The game started pretty boring and, since Allegra was sitting literally on the second to last place before Sammi, her turn would take too fucking long. She also wasn't that close to anyone on the circle except for Jen — who she kinda saw as an annoying classmate, at best —, so no one was asking her any questions.

There were some really stupid questions like, 'did you ever screwed an instructor' and some really juicy ones, like 'did you really come up with that choreography for this semester's assignment?'. But the game didn't actually become interesting until it got to Allegra's turn. And she got to ask Giulia.

"I choose truth," Giulia smiled, a little playfully but also a little challenging. "Give me your best shot, Rossi."

It was now or never. Allegra wanted to know if she was actually flirting back there or if the whole night had been senseless playful times. Was there something going on between them? Or was it just Giulia messing with Allegra? If it was the last option, she better get ready to fight. Because they were going to war.

"Alright," Allegra matched her challenging smile. On the inside, however, she was shaking. "Is it true you are actually in love with me?"

The guys looked at each other, their lips going for the decapitalized 'o' shape and their eyes sparkling with naughty thoughts. Pigs, Allegra thought to herself, before she flipped her hair back again.

The girls gasped, looking at each other with a face that could only mean hot gossip. Allegra braced herself for the worst, already coming up with some clapback for whatever nasty comments Giulia would throw her way.

Giulia's smile, however, didn't drop, she just looked straight into Allegra's eyes and bit her lips. "Yeah, it's true."

Oh, wow.

"Yo, Ozzy, it looks bad for you, huh?" One of the boys said, only God knew who. Allegra didn't have eyes for any of them at the moment, not when Giulia was looking at her like that.

"Shut the fuck up, Ryan," Giulia said, her eyes not leaving Allegra's for even a second. "I'm gay, remember? Me and Ozzy are just dance partners."

Allegra's eyes widened. What? She looked around. The other girls seemed unfazed. Was she the only one that wasn't aware of that?

"What?!" was the only word that managed to come out of Allegra's mouth. She sounded stupid.

"I didn't even choose him, we were just nominated partners" Giulia smiled at Allegra reassuringly. "It's your turn now, Leggy. Truth or dare?!"

"Dare," she said, absentmindedly, still processing the whole conversation. 

"I dare you to kiss me."

#love island the game #litg season 1 #love island the game s1 #litg s1 #litg allegra #litg writers room #writers room #litg ff #litg fanfic #litg fanfiction #ask #crimswnred

[litgwritersroom]

Part two of the Kelly Hideaway fic, pretty please? 😳💘💘

YES MA'AM

Kelly / MC - 1500+ words - @crimswnred NSFW

Part Two of Kelly's Hideaway Fic! Is it me or is it hot in here?

Kelly heard the door to the hideaway close behind her. The lighting of the room and Isobel's presence made her skin awake in goosebumps. She didn't know exactly what she expected, but she hoped she could expect something.

"This is cool," Izzy nodded, looking around the place. The purple and orange, sunset aesthetic lights made her red hair look even prettier. "I suppose that's why everyone wants to come here, huh?!"

Izzy's green eyes snapped to Kelly's. There was this thing in the air, one could call it electricity. It was running from Kelly's body and sending zaps all across the room. Like when you knew something was gonna happen and you were just waiting for it. It made her heart jump and stomach turn into butterflies. 

"Is it your first time here?" Kelly asked. She knew it was, she had seen the show, but she acted like a chatterbox when nervous and this time would be no different.

But Isobel just nodded, taking Kelly's hand on hers. It was like she could read her mind, doing her best to assure her it would be fine. "You know we don't have to do anything, right? We can just chat."

Kelly really wanted to believe in that. But she knew a boy's pick recoupling was coming and they'd end up dumping her — after all, the only islander she got to connect with was Izzy. She didn't want to go back home and regret her time in Love Island. No. She wanted to live it all.

Without thinking much about it, Kelly took a step closer. "I want to, though…"

She raised her hands to caress Izzy's cheeks, eyes set on the red-head's green ones. As if she had a magnetic field surrounding her, Kelly was pulled to her lips, locking them with hers with what could only be described as hunger. They kissed, in the middle of the room, tongues battling for a taste of each other, hearts beating in sync. It was all Kelly could ask for and so, so much more.

Izzy broke the kiss but didn't take a single step back to break apart from Kelly. "I really wanna take all of your clothes off right now but I have to ask you if you wanna take this further first."

Kelly looked at her eyes, her heart beating faster and faster inside her chest. This wasn't exactly what she was imagining for her first day of Love Island but she would regret the rest of her life if she said no. Especially because Izzy was looking at her with fire in her eyes.

"I'd do anything you want me," Kelly whispered, loud enough to make herself clear.

Izzy bit her lower lip and looked at her as if she was begging for something. "Anything?"

Maybe Kelly shouldn't have said that but fuck it. She nodded, some of her blonde locks cascading to the side. "Yeah, anything. Everything."

Izzy kissed her again, every movement increasing the flame inside her. Before Kelly noticed, Izzy was pressing her against the wall, unzipping her dress. When it fell to her ankles, Kelly kicked it to the other side of the room, not giving a care for where it landed. She just wanted to touch Izzy's skin, hot and soft under her own dress.

Pulling away for a second time but doing it like it was torture, Izzy moved her lips to Kelly's necklace, kissing and biting it. She wanted to do the same, reaching for the black sequin dress, but Izzy stopped her in the act.

"This feels incredibly one-sided," she joked, laughing between kisses.

Izzy hummed, reaching for Kelly's bra straps and pulling them down on each side, until she was free of them. "You are gonna love it."

Wetting her lips, Kelly watched as Izzy's own lips moved against her skin again, the movements synching with the beat of her heart. Or was it the opposite? Distracted by the bolts of pleasure that ran down her body each time Izzy's mouth touched, Kelly didn't notice she was unhooking her bra before it fell to the ground and she felt the chill of the night.

Then, Izzy's kisses got lower and lower, and finally found her nipples, taking them by the mouth. Kelly could feel herself getting wetter as Izzy's spare hand moved downwards, reaching the band of her pants.

"Do you want me to touch you?" Izzy said in a whisper, eyes looking up at her, before her tongue traced around her nipple. Kelly hummed, unable to say anything as she watched her. "Use your words, love."

She swallowed hard and closed her eyes, bowing her head as she panted. "Yes, I want you to touch me."

"Good girl," Izzy's words alone sent a wave of pleasure through her body. When her hand reached inside of Kelly's pants, however, it intensified. "Look at you, all wet for me."

Kelly wetted her lips as Izzy's tongue got distracted with her breasts again. With her thumb, Izzy stroked her sensible spot, carefully and slowly, as if she was torturing her. Kelly let out a sharp gasp, doing her best to stay standing.

But then, Izzy stopped all of a sudden.

Kelly whimpered, already missing the friction Izzy had just given her. "Please, I need you."

"I know, baby," Izzy raised her head again, kissing Kelly's neck. "I need you to be a good girl and go bend over the bed, please."

With a pout, Kelly did exactly as she was told to, no questions asked. She gathered a few pillows and layed over them, pressing her torso against their soft touch. Inpatient, she turned her head to watch what Izzy could be probably doing and was not displeased when she saw the black dress being tossed to the side.

Her body was the most beautiful thing Kelly had ever seen. She had big breasts that were hidden behind a lacy black bra and a breathtaking ass that was barely covered by her matching bottom. Her stockings looked so fucking good with the set that Kelly couldn't help but let her mind wander.

"Nu-uh," Izzy's pouted, making Kelly smile. "I didn't say you could look, did I?"

Kelly mirrored her, before turning her face back to her front. "No, you didn't…"

"In that case," she heard Izzy saying before she felt her hand grabbing her ass cheek. "Spread them."

Slowly, just to provoke something out of her, Kelly spread her legs as wild as she could. She was a lost cause there, face and tits pressed against the pillows and her pussy out looking like a prize ready to be claimed. And, god, she was begging to be claimed by Izzy already.

"Fuck, you're gorgeous," the phrase was breathy and hoarse, probably escaped without her meaning to. "If only we were back at my place…"

Kelly was about to ask her what she had in mind but she was shut immediately by the feeling of Izzy's tongue on her entrance, making her melt as she hummed against her skin. Teasingly, she flicked it, making some high-pitched moans come out of Kelly's throat against her better judgement.

"You taste sooo good, baby," she said before licking her again. "Fuck."

"Oh, god," Kelly pleaded. "Izzyyy…"

"What do you want? Huh?" Kelly could feel her breath against her skin with every word she said. 

She whimpered again, moving her hips against her face. But then, Izzy slapped her on the ass, the loud sound startling her more than the impact. "Tell me, what do you want?"

Her words were rough and Kelly could feel her nipples going as hard as rock from how turned on she was. She could even feel her wetness spilling on her leg.

"Use your hands," Kelly said as she turned to look at Izzy. "I want you to finger me with your hands, please."

Izzy smirked, slapping her ass again. Kelly cried out in response, so horny she could explode right there. "You look so beautiful when you beg."

Right after she said it, Izzy moved her hands to Kelly's centre. She could barely feel the skin of her ass cheeks burning from the contact before she was feeling Izzy's two fingers stretch her.

"Yes, yes," Kelly groaned as Izzy moved inside and out, switching pace as she liked it. "Oh, my god, Izzy, yes!"

Kelly could barely see Izzy moving behind her but she could feel a third finger inside her now, while what she thought was her other hand, stroked her clit. Izzy moved fast and Kelly's hips had a messy pace against her fingers. Every stroke felt like magic, sending waves and waves of pleasure again and again over her body.

"Fuck, fuck," Kelly cried. She could feel another wave coming, big enough to send her over the edge. "I'm coming, I'm coming."

"Yes, that's right," she heard Izzy's voice but she could barely understand it, her body tightening itself around Izzy's fingers. "Cum for me, baby."

And it came all of the sudden, making her scream and her legs shake. She could feel her whole body jerking with pleasure as she came, Izzy's hands riding her through her peak and her own holding the sheets under her body for dear life.

When she came back down, she was a mess. Out of breath and mind still a little foggy, she looked at Izzy, who had a smirk on her lips.

"My turn."

#litg #litg writers room #writers room #litg fanfic #love island the game #ask #litg ff #litg season 4 #litg kelly #crimswnred

[litgwritersroom]

It’s time for an open prompt!

For this pride month special we will love to hear your stories celebrating LITG LGBT characters 😉 that's why we put on a prompt together for you:

your character is on a holiday trip and ends up realising some feelings for someone else

We can't wait to see what you come up with! Don't forget to submit your story to us.

ps: we'll only accept submissions with LGBT characters/relationships.

#litg #writers room #litg writers room #litg fanfic #litg lgbt #character spotlight #love island the game #litg ff #litg submissions

[litgwritersroom]

For recommendations, features, and character fic lists, give our friends at @litgreadersroom a follow! They’ll be your navigation into the world of LITG Fanfic!

New to fanfiction and not sure where to start? Obsessed with a certain character but not sure how to navigate the tags on AO3? We've got you!

We've created masterlists for many of the most popular characters, starting with seasons 1 and 2. It's a work in progress, so bear with us as we continue to add lists for more characters and seasons! If there's anyone you want us to prioritize, feel free to drop us an ask!

Note that some characters may not have enough fics to justify a masterlist, but as we work to showcase individual fics, we aim to feature every character at some point.

For now, here is a list of guides for each character:

Season 1

Jake

Levi

Rohan

Tim

Season 2

Arjun

Bobby

Blake

Carl

Chelsea

Elisa

Felix

Gary

Graham

Hannah

Henrik

Hope

Ibrahim

Jakub

Kassam

Lottie

Lucas

Marisol

Noah

Priya

Rocco

#litg masterlist #litg fanfiction #litg #litg writers room #writers room #litg fanfic #love island the game

[litgwritersroom]

HAPPY PRIDE MONTH!

In honour of this month dedicated to the celebration, commemoration and visibility of the LGBT+ community we are happy to announce the

Throughout the month of June, we will be writing prompts and answering asks focusing on canonical LGBT+ characters and F/F + M/M pairings!

We will also be stoked to have you join us as we release ✨ special prompts ✨ to celebrate our beloved characters!

Keep an eye out for more updates 😉

#litg #love island the game #character spotlight #litg season 1 #litg season 2 #litg season 3 #litg season 4 #litg season 5 #litg season 6 #litg writers room #litg lgbt

[litgwritersroom]

okay hear me out: smut with tom. it’s on the villa near the end and you two go out to the daybeds and we’ll y’know. he’s super nervous and she just kindove has to comfort him the whole time and he keeps asking her if everything he does is okay bc he just wants to please her

EVERYTHING ELSE IS ENTHUSIASM

Tom / MC - 2100+ words - @mrsbsmooth NSFW

“Well… enthusiasm at least...” He swallowed, hard. “That… won't be a problem.”

“Are you sure about this?” Felicity asked, as she watched his hands shaking. Tom nodded, pulling the covers back for her, and she slipped under the blanket beside him. 

The daybeds weren’t ideal, but they couldn’t get into the hideaway, she’d already snuck off and tried. Felicity rolled toward him, and he pulled her close. She’d been waiting for weeks, and the intoxicating scent of his cologne already had her pressing herself against him, just about ready to wrap her legs around his waist and fuck him for three days straight. 

She pressed her lips to his, hungrily, with only about ten percent of the desperation that she felt between her legs, but there was something still so hesitant in his kiss. 

She stopped to take a deep breath.

“Babe,” she whispered. “If you don’t want to, we can wait. I know you said you didn’t want to do bits on TV. We don’t have to change that now.”

“I…” Tom sighed, pulling her closer. “Can I be completely honest with you?”

Felicity nodded. “Always.”

Tom looked into her eyes, his own wide and innocent, as he chewed the inside of his cheek. 

“My hesitation wasn’t entirely to do with the fact we’re on TV. It’s… I’m not…,” he cleared his throat, lowering his voice to a little above a whisper. “I'm not terribly experienced. Relationships are new to me. and I'm not... I just worry that...”

He dropped his head to her chest, almost as if he was hiding his face, and Felicity couldn’t help but burst out laughing. 

Tom tensed, and she stroked his hair, tilting his head back so he’d look at her. 

“Babe…. Duh.”

His face fell in confusion, and she shook her head in disbelief. “I figured that out about five seconds after meeting you. And it doesn’t bother me.”

Tom looked up at her with those big, innocent eyes, as if she’d just said something so magical he couldn’t quite believe it. 

“It doesn’t?”

“No!” she smiled. “Not at all! If you’re willing to let me lead, I'm happy to take control.”

“Even though I might be awkward?”

She kissed him gently, calming herself, and nodded.

“Even if you’re awkward. The thing that matters above everything else is enthusiasm.”

“Do you think?” his eyes widened. 

“Mmhmm, think about it. If you’re talking to someone, and the conversation’s technically quite good, but the girl clearly doesn’t want to be there, that’s a big turnoff, right?”

"Of course." Tom nodded. 

“But if a girl’s talking to you, and while the topic isn’t that interesting, she’s nodding, and smiling, and looking at you like there’s nowhere else she’d rather be…?”

Tom nodded contemplatively, hesitating for a moment before speaking. 

“Well… enthusiasm at least...” He swallowed, hard. “That… won't be a problem.”

Tom’s cheeks flushed pink at his own boldness, and he looked away. God, she loved having this effect on him. She’d been with her fair share of men before, most of them quite experienced, but none had made her feel so… 

Desired.

Tom looked at her like he couldn’t believe she was with him. Stars in his eyes, lips parting in awe, completely dumbstruck whenever she entered a room. He fumbled his words, and whatever was in his hands. He walked into doors when she kissed his cheek. Broke into a sweat when she slipped her hand into his.

She couldn’t help but be a little worried that seeing her naked might knock him out cold. 

She threaded her hands into that beautiful, soft hair, stroking it as she pulled him in closer to her. He obliged, trailing his lips along her cheek, before delicately brushing them against hers. They were soft, just like his skin, that flawless close shave that he’d somehow managed to perfect. And his cologne, God. For a man so apparently inexperienced in sex, he smelled like a connoisseur. Refined, but fresh, like the first sip of whisky on ice. An explosion of cedar and amber wood. Something richer, something more elegant, something so sensual that almost made her forget it was Tom.

It was one of the first things she’d noticed about him. That first moment where he’d gone slack-jawed, and she’d leaned in to greet him with a polite hug. She’d barely wanted to let go, his cologne like a drug that she’d never realised she was already addicted to. It had taken everything she had not to whisper into his ear how much she’d loved it. How badly it made her want to never unwrap her arms from around his neck.

And now, here he was. 

Under the blanket, his hand slipped under her top, gently brushing her waist like he was asking her permission to go further. It took all her willpower not to giggle at the politeness in it. Felicity reached for the bottom of her t-shirt, pulled it over her head, and handed it to him. 

She was still completely covered by the blanket, but in the soft glow of the fairy lights, she watched his eyes fill with desire. He rolled his lips together as if he was already tasting her on them, and kissed her again. 

Harder.

She tugged his shirt from him like it was suffocating her, shuddering with anticipation as he lay his bare chest against hers. Parting her legs slightly to wrap them around him, his weight on her intoxicating, she felt his body heat starting to rise. He gathered her up into his arms, pulling her closer, and she almost gasped.

Those arms around her had always made her feel safe, but now, they were like an aphrodisiac. She ran her hands over his biceps, and onto his broad shoulders, savouring every inch of his skin. She buried her face into him, inhaling deeply, scratching her nails up the back of his neck and into his hair. 

And he groaned.

His skin erupted into goosebumps under her hands, and he pulled her closer, wrapping her up once more in those arms that had her dizzy from their strength. She could feel how hard he was, his hips pressing firmer and firmer against hers as she wrapped her legs around him. She could almost feel his torment; wanting her body, wanting to take more of her, but afraid that taking what he wanted would push her away. 

Well. 

It was time to show him that she wasn’t going anywhere.

Felicity rolled him onto his back, pushed him to lie down, and tugged his shorts off. Tom protested out of some kind of shame, but she wasn’t going to be hearing any of that. She settled between his legs, and before he had a chance to say anything else, she took him in her mouth.

In the faded light, as she looked up at him, she could’ve sworn she’d electrocuted him. His hands flew to the wall above him, pressing against it, his lips parted, eyes closed, breath caught in his throat.

It was all she could do not to break into a grin. 

He remained frozen like that for a few seconds while she swirled her tongue over his tip, and he seemed to melt underneath her. He exhaled, shuddering, that deep, guttural groan from his throat as he threaded one hand into her hair.

“Oh God,” he whispered, opening his eyes as if he really was seeing heaven; his hand gentle and praising as he stroked his thumb against her cheek. She moaned at the affection, the act so very and perfectly him, and made him jolt again.

She was slow, her movements gentle, taking her time as she teased out what he liked. Even with zero words between them, his reactions to her every movement told her exactly how to please him. He sparked under her touch, or shuddered, or gasped; responding so viscerally that she figured him out in no time. 

God, she loved him. 

He was so easy to read, every twitch of her tongue like a zap through his body; how his abs clenched as she took him deeper, or how his fingers tightened in her hair as she moaned. She found a rhythm in only minutes, no doubt helped by his responsiveness, silently telling her exactly how he wanted it, and she was only too happy to give him everything he was too polite to ask for.  

Until he started asking for it.

She wasn’t sure she heard him correctly the first time, but the second time, she was sure. It was rasped, from the very back of his throat; a voice she’d never heard, nor expected. It was desperate. It was needy. It was…

“Deeper,” he whispered.

A rush of adrenaline hit her like a whirlwind, the thrill of hearing him ask for it driving her just a little bit wild. She adjusted her position, holding his thighs, taking more and more of him into her mouth until he was hitting the back of her throat. Tom groaned again, and she practically whimpered in response, almost embarrassed by how much this was turning her on. 

But she wasn’t stopping.

Over and over and over, she gave him exactly what he wanted, moaning and letting his tip slip into her throat, making his breath catch each time. She knew he was getting close, but no part of her wanted to show down, even when he began tugging gently at her hair to try and pull her away.

“Darling,” he whispered. “You need to sto–”

She almost growled in response, doing nothing but lifting her pace. The pull at her hair became more insistent, his breaths deeper, his words more and more jilted. But still, she didn’t release him.

He felt so good on her tongue, every ridge of him, the taste of him, the way his body contorted and responded to her every move. She wasn’t stopping, she’d already decided. She wanted to taste him fully, to have him lose himself in her mouth, to bring him to the edge and push him over it, watching him while she showed him exactly how badly she wanted to make him feel good.

“Flick–”

His voice was shaking now, his abs clenched; a bead of sweat on his brow as he tried desperately to hold back. But she didn’t stop. She just looked up at him, watching his face contort as she held her pace exactly as it was. She was holding him there, dangling him off the edge, and she’d never felt so powerful. He was panting. Sweating. Struggling to hold on; and she just gave him more. More, and more, and more. He was properly pulling her hair now, his fingers tangled and desperate, as she dug her own into his hips. She used her nails, the slightest bit of pain drawing his attention. 

And he looked down.

“Oh fu–”

He lost control, his body contorting and jolting as he finally let go. All she could do was moan as he involuntarily thrust into her mouth, coming down her throat with such force that she was sure it’d been far longer than he’d insinuated. She held her rhythm, keeping the pace through each jerk of his thighs, only slowing once he began gasping for air.

Slowly, she released him, savouring the taste of him in her mouth, as he watched her with a relaxed confidence that she’d never seen before. Wordlessly, she shuffled back up beside him, and he pulled her close to his side, kissing her gently. But before she could smile, or ask him how it was, he rolled her onto her back.

Felicity gasped as he began kissing down her body, over her breasts, and onto her stomach, slipping his hands into the waistband of her shorts as he began tugging them down. She couldn’t help but giggle at the self-assurance, but when he looked up at her, there was very little hesitation in his eyes.

“Babe,” she smiled. “You don’t have to return the favour straight away, we can rest for a second if you w–”

A knowing smirk tugged at his full lips, and it quietened her almost instantly. She’d never been silenced by a look before, but that look had her lost for words. 

“I’d very much like to do it right away,” he cooed, trailing his lips lower and lower, letting his tongue dart out and wet her skin as he closed in on where she was practically shaking to have him. 

“In fact,” he whispered, kissing her one final time, before parting her with his fingers. “I’m quite enthusiastic about it.”

And just like he had done, the moment Tom’s head disappeared between her legs, her body jolted; her hands flying to the wall above her head as she gasped. When he'd said he wasn't experienced, she thought he'd meant...

Her thoughts were interrupted by those massive arms wrapping around her thighs, opening her wider as he dragged her down the daybed toward him. She grabbed his hair instead, her eyes rolling back as whatever he was doing had her gasping for air.

Oh. 

Fuck.

That’s enthusiasm.

#litg #litg fanfic #litg Tom #litg season 4 #mrsbsmooth #litg writers room #writers room #love island the game #ask #writing prompt

[litgwritersroom]

Idk where this came from, but a Noah fic inspired by Wildest Dreams by Taylor Swift. I know he's a good guy but it reminds me of him for some reason.

WILDEST DREAMS

S2 | Noah/MC | 3100+ | @crimswnred

He's so tall and handsome as hell... and for some reason, Rhode just can't keep her eyes off him.

"Don't you girls think Noah is kind of a hottie?"

Rhode let her tired earthy green eyes slip away from the words on her book to the bright horizon. Noah was coming back from a quick swim at the ocean, water dripping from his chocolate hair and chest, like he was a vision to be seen. The other boys were following him right after, all joking and pushing each other; Lucas seemed the happiest of them, eager to talk to Noah about whatever subject those two could have in common.

Well, yes, Chelsea wasn't mistaken — actually, she rarely was when it came to boys. Noah was easily the hottest of the bunch and it wasn't hard to admit it or see why. Even if he wasn't your type, which was nearly impossible, you could at least see why he drew attention wherever he went.

He was one of those men, you know?! With kind caramel eyes that could stare right into your soul, even if you didn't want to let them. He had broad shoulders and big arms, the kind that projected immediate trust and a sense of protection. His personality was perfect, too. He was smart, fair, a natural leader and just supportive. However, none of those was the reason he would stick out to Rhode.

It was something else. That kind of feeling in her gut that moved her and caused butterflies in her stomach. The feeling of being needed. The way he made her believe he couldn't survive without her in her life. Everything, from his voice to the way he would look at you, seemed oddly unpolished as if the edges were left undone and he was one leap away from perfection, and you couldn't escape that urge to take him there. That was exactly why he was dangerous.

Because he would let you believe he had been waiting to meet you so he could be whole.

"Well, he is tall as hell and very handsome, but he's just not for me," Rhode said, at least. It was a lie, of course, Noah always had ticked all of her boxes in every category possible. However, she should stay safe on watch duty.

Chelsea frowned behind her round pink shades and big white floppy hat. "Why is your tone all sad all of the sudden?" She asked and, to be honest, Rhode wouldn't expect less of Chelsea's wit. She always knew best when it came to those things. "Is it because of Noah?!"

Before Rhode could come up with some excuse of her own, Lottie butted in, as she always did. "Don't be silly, Chels!" she argued, sliding her shades down her nose to have a look at them, those bright green eyes looking down as if she knew better. "Rhode just started dating Lucas, we don't need another misunderstanding."

Another, Lottie had to say, because there had been some wild rumours when Noah started dating his current girlfriend, rumours that went too far. Of course, the source of them seemed to be Chelsea, who at the time was convinced Noah had a thing for Rhode ever since they first met in college. To be honest, she never once believed such nonsense, however, she did wish, from the bottom of her heart, they were true.

"I'm just asking!" Chelsea gasped, her cheeks burning red. "Why do you always bring that back? It's been ages!"

"Me?" Now it was Lottie's turn to act displeased, as she sneered. "You're the one always talking about Rhode and Noah and their partners like they're characters in a rom-com!"

Rhode rolled her eyes to herself and huffed loud enough to cut their conversation. "Please, stop that nonsense," she ordered. "It'll be way worse if the boys end up hearing us."

"Hear you what?!"

Lucas' voice made Rhode jump on the stop. He was standing behind her, drying her hair with one of the towels she had brought in her bag. He looked as handsome as ever, his eyes glued to her as if she was the only woman in that beach, the only woman to ever set foot on earth. Rhode liked that, the certainty she was needed at the moment. She liked his seriousness, even though it had an expiration date.

She knew just where she was standing with him. Just where to go. Just exactly when to finish it.

It was one of her many habits. A tendency of hers. She would start something knowing well it would eventually end. Maybe that was why she dated the punk-band guy, or the model, or even the soon-to-be actor. Maybe it was why she insisted on a relationship with someone who couldn't imagine himself in a serious relationship, with intentions of marriage. Maybe it was why she was currently with Lucas.

"Gossip," Rhode said as Lucas leaned closer to kiss her on her cheek. He smelled like sun, sand and ocean. His cheek was warm like the afternoon.

"The thing that keeps the world turning," he said when he sat down next to her, seeming satisfied.

"Where's Gary?" Lottie wondered, fanning herself with her cap, searching for her own boyfriend in the horizon. "Wasn't he with you just yet?!"

"He went back to the hotel with Henrik to pick up a ball to play," Lucas explained. "Honestly, they are too high energy for me to keep up."

He slid his hand to Rhode's, intertwining their fingers and caressing the back of her hand with his thumb. It was an incredibly gentle act for him but she welcomed the affection anyway, always happy to receive attention. They were dating for almost six months now and even though Lottie had said they had merely started, it was the longest she had been with someone else.

"You sound like an old lady," Rhode joked around, turning to face him.

"Does that make you my old, beloved husband?" Lucas wrinkled his nose in that adorable way he used to do when he was joking.

Rhode chuckled. "Nah, I think it makes me your hot young boy toy who is always up for a good time and an expensive gift."

He shook his head with an amused smile on his lips, seeming more annoyed he couldn't come up with a proper comeback than about what she said. "You never fail to amuse me."

"Oh, Hope!" Rhode heard Chelsea exclaiming with excitement, raising her head to meet her.

As usual, Hope was hanging from Noah's arms and dragging him as if he was her personal purse, while he looked bored as hell. Long ago, Rhode would diagnose his behaviour around his girlfriends as a commitment issue, he was only 20-something after all. But now, the closer he got to his 30s, the more senseless it looked.

But oh, well, it wasn't Rhode's problem.

"We brought some ice lollies!" Hope announced.

As she said that, Noah placed the cooler full of them on the sand between Lottie and Rhode's loungers, making a loud sound and lifting sand from the ground. Rhode had to scratch her eyes to take some of it away but when she looked back, Noah was smiling.

It sent chills down her back.

"Oh, I want the strawberry sorbet one!"

It only took Chelsea's saying for everyone to attack the poor cooler as they laughed and demanded certain flavours to each other. Rhode watched the sudden rush, doubting they would have bought her favourite flavour anyways. Not everyone could appreciate—

"Rhode."

Noah's voice — his deep, solemn voice — grabbed her attention, taking it away from the ice lollies' mess and her own thoughts all at once. He was crouching in front of her, that sweet boy's smile on his lips, hair still wet and messy, offering her one of the lollies. The passion fruit one.

Her favourite.

1 am.

Lucas was sleeping deeply after too many glasses of wine and there was no sound to be heard in their hotel room. Rhode had just gotten out of her fancy shoes and evening dress, took off her makeup and dragged herself into a large jumper and shorts. 2 seconds ago they were out, partying and drinking, and now he had passed out. It was funny, of course, but also kind of lonely.

She decided to leave him alone and grabbed her handbag, opening it to find her pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Quickly enough, she was out of her room, hair tied in a bun.

Rhode walked through the hallways, phone in one hand, room's card and lights in the other. There were only a few people here and there at each turn, all of them looking drunker than the previous one like she would've expected.

When she finally hit the outdoor pool, Rhode sat by one of the loungers, a cigarette between her teeth as she tried to light it and watched the stars shining on the sky above her.

"Thought I'd find you here."

She turned but didn't need to do it quickly for she already knew who it was. Noah was standing next to her, the same tender expression he always seemed to keep for his friends in his face and a combination of pyjama bottoms and a white t-shirt that looked too good to be true.

"Isn't there a girlfriend for you to attend?!"

"Hope's still at the bar with Lottie and Chelsea," he said, not seeming sad at all about his absence. "What about your boy?!"

"Lucas fell asleep, so I escaped," she gave him an insincere smile. "But now I'm second-guessing it, it's too fucking cold for a summer night."

Noah chuckled in that way which always meant he could see behind her talking. "You're unsettled."

Between Chelsea's wit and Noah's mind-reading abilities, Rhode really thought she was that easy to figure out.

"I am cold," she countered, wrinkling her nose at him.

Once again, he flashed that beautiful, sweet smile that met his eyes and felt like the only honest gesture in the world. God, she hated his smiles. They had a way of making her feel special even if at the end of their night, he'd go back to his girlfriend.

She rolled her eyes at him in a playful way and he couldn't help but chortle, making her blush as she puffed her cigarette. It was one of those moments when everything looked so perfect and somehow she still felt like part of the scene. Her heart was beating loud inside her chest and her eyes were focused on the man in front of her.

Noah sat down on the lounger next to her, his legs turned to her body as his smile went from bright to hopeless in a second. He seemed nervous as if he had just remembered something.

"What?!" Rhode frowned, turning her legs to his direction as well and leaning forward. She could feel his skin, their knees touching and his warm passing from him to her. "What happened, Noah?!"

He looked at her and their eyes met. "He's gonna propose."

It took longer than it should have for it to click. A second or two for it to sink in properly. 'He' in that case was Lucas, and she was the one who was going to be proposed to. Suddenly, it all made sense. He had been so careful, so loveable, so affectionate. Lucas wanted to marry her.

Except it didn't make sense at all! It was Lucas they were talking about. He was 27 and thought himself to be too young to tie the knot. He had told her as soon as they started dating that married life was the last of his priorities. The man she was dating despised the idea of being glued to anyone, wanted to see the world and help those in need and drive around on his bike and…

"Who told you that?!" Rhode asked, at least.

"Lucas himself."

"That can't possibly be true," she dismissed Noah with a shake of her hand. "Lucas would rather die than marry so soon. It's impossible, you must've misheard him."

"I did not!" His voice was firm, steady. Rhode had never heard him so angry before. "I'm telling you, he's gonna propose. At the end of our trip. He's in love with you, Rhode."

"And I'm telling you, Noah, this can't be!"

"Why?! Why is it so unimaginable for you that he wants to lock you down?"

That wasn't the case. Actually, that was the least insane part of all this. She would never doubt anyone's feelings, especially from a determined man like Lucas, who would do whatever he wanted whenever he wanted to. The problem here was that she was dating him specifically because he didn't want anything serious. Because she was in love with someone else. And if he asked her to marry him… well, she would say no.

"Why would he even tell you that?!" Rhode shook her head, changing the subject.

"Because…" She watched as he fumbled for words and swallowed hard, suddenly losing that layer of confidence and showing Rhode a part of him she had never seen before. "Well, fuck it, everybody will find out sooner or later."

He ran his hands through his hair and then face, making Rhode more confused than before. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Remember when Chelsea said I had a thing for you and everyone just figured it was a lie?"

Thump. As the wind passed them, her heart almost escaped through her throat. If she was standing, she would be on the ground by now, since her legs felt like giving up. She only nodded in response, too afraid that if she tried to say something, it would come out like a cry instead of words.

"Well, it wasn't." Without knowing it, Noah said exactly what Rhode expected him to, like a dream finally coming to life. "One night, I drank too much and… I ended up telling Chelsea about my feelings for you. She commented with Lottie, I guess, who told Gary and… when it got to you I panicked and asked her, no, begged her to pretend it was all some stupid gossip she made up."

Suddenly, Chelsea's obsession with making a couple out of them both felt reasonable. She knew. Oh, god, all this time she knew.

"Noah, I—"

"Sorry, I'm…" he interrupted and she nodded, letting him finish his train of thought. "I guess Gary told Lucas about those rumours and he came to me, asked me if they were true. I lied, of course, said it was all a big misunderstanding and that I was happy with Hope. But then, he told me about the proposal."

Fuck. Hope. Rhode had forgotten all about her for a second.

"I don't know why I wanted to tell you about it, I don't know why I'm telling you all, I guess…" Noah scratched her nape, lost in his own thinking. "I don't know, I just wanted to shoot my shot. I know you love Lucas and he's a great guy, but I wanted you to know either way. Rhode. I'm in love with you."

Something great took control over Rhode, made her grab his white t-shirt with closed, tight fists, and bring him closer to her. Made her forget all about Lucas and Hope and Chelsea and Lottie. Made her lock their lips in one desperate movement, like he was air and she couldn't spend another second breathless. Made her bring his body over her own, even though they were out by the hotel pool and anyone could see them.

She didn't care. How could she?

Mind still a little hazy, Rhode was now taking off his shirt, exposing his chest to her touch and lips. His hands were exploring as well, raising the hem of her jumper, touching the skin of her belly and then gently caressing her breasts. Each encounter of skin felt more electric than the other, to the point Rhode thought she'd burn in flames.

"Noah," she whispered, between kisses on his neck. "Is Hope back from the bar?!"

Noah straightened his back, looking at her straight in the way. "We might have an hour."

The sun was setting and there was soon between Rhode's toes. She could hear the ocean's waves crashing against the shore, over and over, playing a soundtrack to her foggy thoughts. It had been around 17 hours ever since she had last seen Noah and her heart felt smaller and smaller each second that passed her by. Looking at the horizon, she could see the beautiful sunset meeting the border of the water. But her mind was somewhere else.

She heard steps and more steps coming closer to her. Used to Lucas' touch, she didn't flinch when the presence got nearer. However, when the figure sat down next to her, she realised he was too tall to be her boyfriend.

"Just broke up with Hope."

Rhode turned to look at him. He had one of those side smirks that said "oopsie" but not for real. His eyes looked soft as they often did when he looked at her and for the first time, it didn't send her into an anxious spiral. Instead, she felt peaceful. She could get used to that feeling.

It had been a long time coming.

"Good for you," she chuckled and he did too, a sparkle running through them. 

Noah then furrowed his brows, looking thoughtful for a while. "How about Lucas, though?!"

Rhode sighed. "I told him I didn't wanna marry."

Just a few hours later she had been kicked out of her hotel room to give Lucas some space. She tried to reason with him, explaining she has always been completely clear with her intentions and that they were aligned until… they weren't.

"How did he take it?!"

"Not so good," she shook her head at the memory of his jaw clenching. "But he'll live."

Noah nodded at that and Rhode felt like he truly understood. Because there was nothing she could do about Lucas when her mind was fixated on Noah. 

"We're doing this, then?!" Rhode asked, her green eyes glued to his caramel orbs.

"Yeah, I think we are…" he smiled once again but this time, it was big. Bigger than the universe and surely bigger than anything she had ever felt. 

She got closer and he did too and suddenly they were just an inch apart from each other. She could hear his heartbeat, even when the sound of the waves was trying to shut it. It just beat louder.

"Noah," she said with what felt like her whole being. "I'm in love with you too."

And he kissed her. Oh, he kissed her. As if he was dying to do it for ages now. As if he died to do it right now. As if he would die to do it for as long as he could, as long as he breathed. And she kissed her back as if breathing was not possible away from him. And God, it was beautiful. Even if they didn't survive, in that moment, they were beautiful.

#litg #litg writers room #writers room #litg noah #litg fanfic #litg ff #litg season 2 #love island the game #crimswnred

[litgwritersroom]

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In Summary:

Note: These asks were created solely for the purpose of this post we're not flaming anyone.

Do:

Give us something that lets us be creative.

Great ask! Are they competing together? Separate? Who wins? Is it for honour? Do they have partners beefing it out on the sidelines? It'll be totally up to us as the writers. We’ve got room to manoeuvre here, so it’s highly likely we'll pick this up

Don't:

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[litgwritersroom]

Could you write something for Rocco, please? Poor boy needs some love - and a redemption arc. In villa, post villa, AU...

I will also accept food truck smut 🤣

THE COLOUR THAT YOU ARE

Rocco / MC - 3000+ - @mrsbsmooth

A mess of auburn curls, tanned skin, eyes that looked like nature.  And around him, an explosion of colour.

For as long as she could remember, Freya had been able to see things that no one else could see. Her Yaya called it the gift. She was proud that her granddaughter had it too.

Freya’s siblings rolled their eyes whenever she said anything, and the kids at school made fun of her. So she stopped telling people.

It was hard, sometimes, to see past the colours, but she mostly learned to ignore them. Most people were brown, which Yaya said meant they were just normal, everyday people. Materialistic people who hadn’t opened their minds; who trudged through their everyday routine, focused on nothing more than their own problems. 

Yaya was blue. She’d always been blue, but the colour seemed to change with the day. Some days, it was warm and sapphired as the ocean, and others, light and airy as the sky. She could always tell Yaya’s mood based on the colour; swirling and dancing through the air around her body. Lighter meant she was feeling good. Darker meant she was tired. And towards the end of her days, Yaya’s aura was navy; such a deep, shimmering blue it was almost black. 

It was Freya who held her hand as she passed.

She didn’t care much for people���s colours after that.

Occasionally, she’d see someone in the street that caught her eye. Like the broad, business-type man, screaming about stocks into his mobile phone, whose magenta-pink aura betrayed his inner kindness. The small girl in the tutu, whose cloud of tomato-red made Freya giggle. Impulsive, impatient, and probably a little fiery. Her poor parents. 

But every now and again, someone would see hers, too. 

They were always older - and often unassuming. A man at the park. An elderly lady on the bus, furrowing their brow as they looked at her before their eyes widened, and they smiled at her. Freya didn’t know what colour she was. She’d never tried to check. She knew what the colours meant, and she didn’t want to know. 

In fact, she hated that she could see them at all. 

It felt intrusive, in a way, to know so much about a person without even knowing their name - without them knowing that she could see their very soul; the very essence of their being. She hadn’t asked permission to see them so clearly, and it felt so wrong that she could do it without asking. She certainly didn’t like the idea that strangers could know so much about her. 

So she kept her eyes to herself.

Until him.

She hadn’t planned to go to the park that day, but warm days were rare in a Belfast autumn. She’d overheard some high school students on the bus talking about a food truck that was stationed out there. They’d laughed and made fun of it, giggling about the loser who owned it, an older guy who flirted with everyone, and smoked too much weed to care that he was selling alcohol to minors. 

So she’d slowly walked, soft music in her ears until she’d seen the truck. There was a line of people, most of them young, and as she drew closer, she saw the sign.

Cocktails & Cronuts.

She couldn’t help but be confused by the weird mix of breakfast and late-evening treats, but something drew her closer. She joined the back of the line, the girl working the counter smiling broadly as each customer stepped up, quickly pulling pastries from a cabinet behind her, and talking animatedly to someone in the back. But as Freya drew closer, she started to feel… weird.

There was something in the air; something wiry; as if walking through a cloud of static electricity. She tried to keep her eyes focussed in front of her, but the girl working the counter seemed to furrow her brow as she approached. The girl kept glancing sideways, growing seemingly concerned, talking hurriedly to the person that Freya couldn’t see. But with every step, the feeling only grew stronger, and she fell within earshot of the girl at the counter. 

“Rocco - are you sure? Do you need to sit down? You’re looking–”

And then Freya saw him. A mess of auburn curls, tanned skin, eyes that looked like nature. 

And around him, an explosion of colour.

There were so many she could barely take him in, a mess of hue and pigment, like an artist’s palette discarded at the end of the day. Orange, green, white, red, yellow, blue, indigo; he was every colour at once, dancing around him with not swirl, but floodwater. There was something so unsettling about it, like she could feel the restlessness within him.

She’d never seen anyone like him.

Orange people were creative, and had to learn lessons from experience. Indigo people were empaths, who absorbed the trauma and emotions of others. Green people couldn’t be tied down, but red people were stubborn. Blue said ‘ungrounded’, but white meant ‘perfectionist’. 

How could he be all of them at once?

He must’ve felt her gaze, because he turned toward her, his brow furrowing as his eyes met her own. He looked at her; really looked at her; that stare so focussed and intense, as if pleading, begging her to see him. She couldn’t tear her eyes from his, something about him drawing her in. There was something about him, something about the tumult of his soul that had her aching to know him. 

To know how someone could be so many colours at once.

But before she could even say anything, he looked away. Almost in an instant, she saw his colours darken, as if by seeing him so clearly, she’d somehow bruised him. It hurt her to watch, a pang of pain through her stomach as he turned his entire body away from her. 

“I’m gonna take a quick break,” he muttered to the girl behind the counter, before hurriedly moving through a curtained-off area.

The girl frowned, but turned back to face Freya with a smile. “Sorry about my brother, he’s a bit of a weirdo.”

Freya smiled politely back at her, and ordered her food, deciding at the last minute to skip the cocktail. She took her cronut to the far side of the park, spreading her jacket out to sit against a tree, and tore piece after piece from the flaky pasty. 

Who was this guy? His sister had called him Rocco. How could he be so many colours at once? And why was he so… so…

Scared?

She couldn’t stop thinking about him.

She’d never seen anything like it, and she was almost certain she’d never see someone like him again. She wished for her Yaya, for the guidance she could give, wishing she was more religious so that she could ask for a sign to point her in the right direction. 

Google was no help, neither were any books she found in Yaya’s things. Freya paced around her apartment, trying to figure it out, on the verge of calling one of those psychic hotlines and asking someone who actually knew what they were doing. 

She knew she should just forget it. She knew it was weird that she was thinking about him this much. For all he knew, she was just some girl; staring at him way too hard, and coming back to stare at him again.

But she just needed answers.

It was almost a week later when she finally went back, and when she did, Rocco wasn’t there. His sister was running the truck by herself, laughing and kidding around with the few customers she had. But as Freya got to the front of the line, she seemed to brighten. 

“It’s you!” she gasped. “You’re back!”

Freya looked up at her questioningly, and the girl beamed at her. 

“Rocco’s been rambling about you all week. Freaking out, and going on like ‘she saw me. She could see me’. None of us have any idea what he’s on about.”

Freya took a deep breath, almost closing her eyes, as she let a small smile pull at her cheek. 

“I know what he means.”

The girl shook her head, laughing to herself. “Well, that makes one of us. He’s just gone off to clear his head. He should be b— oh!”

Freya felt him before she saw him, his presence warming her back, even though she could feel that he was still quite a distance away. She turned, and was almost blinded once more, his disarray of colours even more muddled than before. 

It was like staring too hard at a Monet, watching the watercolours bleed together in a swirl of uncertainty. It was beautiful, in its way, but so… so…

He paused as he saw her, before taking a deep breath of his own. He reached her side, meeting her gaze once more, and exhaled, a single word parting his lips.

“Hey.”

They walked for what seemed like hours, sometimes in silence, sometimes making small talk, but not yet acknowledging what they both already knew. They came to a stop at a small clearing, and he sat, leaning against a large oak tree, his arms resting on his bended knees.

“I don’t know why.”

Freya sat on the ground beside him, watching intently as he stared off into the distance.

“I don’t know why I look like this,” he frowned.

“Can you see it?” she asked, but he just shook his head. 

Freya furrowed her brow, silently asking him the question, and he spoke softly.

“I had someone tell me, once. An old lady in Greece. She pulled me aside and told me my aura was… different. I didn’t really understand what she was saying. I thought she was just a bit, you know, off. But she–” He turned his body toward Freya’s, meeting her eye once more, sending shiver down her spine. “She looked at me the same way you did. Like she could see something really bad. And I just… I don’t know why.”

Freya nodded, holding his gaze, almost distracted as his aura began to grey.

“I’ve never seen one like yours.”

He waited patiently for her to continue, the breeze blowing softly through the curls that made him look like some kind of fallen angel. 

She smiled softly at him. “It’s not bad, at least I don’t think so. It’s just so… different. Most people have one colour, maybe two if they’re in a transition period. But yours is everything; every colour; every emotion all at once. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

He furrowed his brow, pursing his lips together. “What does it mean?”

Freya shook her head. “I don’t know. My Yaya was the one who knew what it all meant, and she died a long time ago. I can see the colours, and I know what they mean individually, but I don’t know what it means to have so many at once.”

Rocco paused, looking over at her once more, and she held his gaze. 

“What do you think it means?”

“I told you, I don’t know. I just–”

“Please.”

There was something so honest in his eyes, and she was suddenly overcome with the realisation. 

He believed her. 

No one since her Yaya had believed her when she’d told them about her gift. And here he was, this guy she’d barely met, and he did. She could see it in his eyes, in the honesty of his colours, the purple seeming to pulsate as he trusted his intuition. 

She could feel him, every swirling cloud of his presence, almost like he was drawing her in. There was something there, just under the surface, something she could almost see. She closed her eyes, letting the colours engulf her, feeling them instead of seeing them.

So looked up at him once more. 

“I think it means you’re trapped. It’s like your soul is being pulled in sixteen different directions, and none of them are what you want. It’s torture, and it’s breaking you apart from inside, like you have no idea who or what you’re supposed to be. When I look at it, there’s no sense to it, there’s no consistency. The colours around you are like an oil slick on top of water. It’s beautiful, so very beautiful; but there’s something about it that’s just… so–.”

“Suffocating."

She watched as he whispered it. He swallowed deeply, as if trying to suppress the emotion that had just risen in his throat. There was such pain in his eyes, as if she’d brushed by a part of him that he never realised was hurting. She couldn’t help but wonder what had brought him there. Was it a girl? Or just the weight of his own expectations; choking him with each day that he woke up to walk a path that seemed to trip him at every turn?

She wondered what it would be like to see him without his aura, to see him as others did; and she furrowed her brow. 

A little dishevelled. Tiredness under his eyes. A frayed bracelet that had meant something once, but now, he wore just to look like he had a story. The impractical sandals for the brisk autumn day, the loose shirt and the earthy smell of weed in his hair. He looked broken, like he'd had his face shoved into the dirt one too many times. Like his carefree facade was a single judgemental glance away from falling apart forever.

How could they know - how could any of them know? They couldn’t see him the way that she could. They could see the outward appearance. They could see the truck, and the weed, and the rampant flirting. 

But they couldn’t see him. 

They didn’t see the creativity in his orange. The compassion in his green. The kindness in his pink, or the empathy in his indigo. They couldn’t feel the warmth of his blue, or the energy of his red. There was a universe inside him that only she could see. That even he couldn’t see. 

And it was beautiful.

As the sunlight softened his features, she looked harder, her eyes searching for a pattern in the mayhem of hues. It was there, she knew it was there, she just needed him to breathe. 

Freya took his hand, and he almost recoiled, but with a slight reluctance, he laced his fingers with hers. She said nothing, just held his hand, as the two of them stared at the distant horizon, lingering in the comfortable silence.

There was something so wonderful about his presence; in the warmth of his hand, and the way that setting sun illuminated the gold in his skin. The steady rumble of his breath, and the sound of his voice as he finally spoke.

“Do you believe in fate?” he asked, still not looking at her.

She smiled. “I suppose?”

“Do you think that we were maybe… supposed to meet?”

She didn’t react, just looked over at him, smiling encouragingly as he mulled over the thoughts in his head. 

“Because when you first came last week… I felt… something. Like I knew you were there before I saw you.”

Freya nodded. “I felt it too.”

“So what does that mean?”

She smiled, shrugging her shoulders gently. “Who knows? Maybe we were meant to meet. There’s no way of knowing, really.”

They fell into silence once more, and she brushed her thumb over his hand. He responded in kind, relaxing with each trace of her thumb over his skin. 

He was so out of place in this cold, dreary autumn, like he’d been born in the wrong place. Perhaps it was her own fascination with him, but the few rays of sunlight that still shone seemed to focus on him. They caught the green in his eyes, the pink of his lips, the dark auburn of his hair; the masterpiece of beauty and colour that she couldn’t understand why people couldn’t see. 

“Have you ever travelled?” she asked. 

He shook his head. “One trip to visit my Grandmother in Greece. Other than that… never.”

And suddenly, she knew the answer. 

She turned her body to his, squeezing his hand tighter as her heart began to race.

“Let’s go together.”

Rocco turned to look at her, his brow furrowed, and his colours began to swirl with excitement. His eyes were focussed. Serious. Present.

“Go where?”

Freya couldn’t help it, that same electricity burrowing deep under her skin, as that energy between them seemed to charge.

“Wherever you want to go.”

As they made their way back to the food truck, there was something different about him. The colours were still there, of course they were. But now, they seemed to… shimmer, like they, too, had felt the electricity. Rocco and Freya arrived back at the food truck, and he stumbled over his words a little as he excitedly told his sister he was going away for a while. She raised an eyebrow, but ultimately, smiled and shook her head; as if she’d known that one day, she’d watch him do something exactly like this. 

Freya stopped by her apartment, letting her landlord know she’d be gone for a while, threw some clothes and shoes in a backpack, and grabbed her passport on the way out the door. She hopped on the train to the airport, and walked into the international terminal, the electricity growing with every step.

And there he was. 

He looked up at her, and smiled, looking as nervous as a kid on his first day of school, his rucksack thrown over his shoulder. As soon as she reached him, he slipped his hand into hers, and she could feel he was shaking. 

“What do you think?” she asked, turning his attention toward the board of departing flights. “Peru? Kenya? Indonesia?”

He looked over the board, his brow furrowed, but paused. He closed his eyes, taking a breath, and opened them again, smiling softly to himself. He stepped closer, wrapped his arm around her waist, and pulled her into his side.

“Thailand.”

She nodded, before standing on her tippy-toes, and kissed his cheek. Rocco smiled shyly, that same beautiful energy radiating from his skin, his eyes full with gratitude as she saw him in his entirety.

He was beautiful. He was so beautiful, in his mess of colours and tones, in his opposites and his hypocrisy. He was real, so unbelievably real.

And he was here.

She ran her fingers through those auburn curls, holding his gaze, and smiled softly back at him.

“Let’s go and find out who you are.”

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