jax matsuo's chaotic dumbass

He’d been stealing glances at her all night, and had clearly gotten just tipsy enough to start meeting her eye. 

His hair was ridiculous. His brightly-coloured hawaiian shirt was hilarious. But he was alone, and he was fucking hot. She could already tell from how tight his sleeves sat on his arms that he’d look amazing with his shirt off.

And what the hell? She was leaving tomorrow.

She sipped her wine, leaning against the bar, and glanced over at him again. He was watching her. She looked him up and down, approvingly, and smiled slightly, catching his eye once more as she turned back to the dregs of her drink.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him get the hint. 

He moved to the bar, and she turned her back slightly, smiling to herself as he approached, his hand behind his back. 

He cleared his throat. “Hi.”

Michelle turned to him, smiling. “Hi.”

His steely grey eyes made her a little delirious as they met hers, holding her gaze, as he spoke again.

“Sex on the beach?”

There was a long beat of silence, and her mouth fell open, until he brought his hand from behind his back, revealing a large orange cocktail, with fruit covering the rim. She physically could not stop the smile from plastering itself on her face as she burst out laughing at the dumb joke. 

“Oh my god, that’s… wow!”

He beamed at her, and she shook her head as she accepted the drink, smiling up at him as she took a sip.

“So, how often does that work?” she laughed. 

He smiled. “It has literally never failed me. Not once.”

“How many times have you tried it, then?”

“I came up with it five minutes ago.”

She laughed again. Hot and funny. The accent was hot, too. Not too many scousers in Ibiza. If he had a nice dick, she’d get his number.

“Ok, we’ve got a comedian here, that’s good to know.”

He chuckled. “You have no idea.”

They smiled at each other, and his eyebrows twitched slightly as he looked her up and down subtly. “So, are you going to tell me your name, or do I have to guess?”

“Oooh, go on, funnyman. Guess.”

“Gertrude.”

She laughed. “Guess again.”

“Agatha.”

She shook her head, grinning like an idiot. “Nope.”

“Michelle.”

Her eyebrows raised, and her hand flew to her neck, and she watched his dazzling smile break out again, as her fingers caught the cool metal of the gold necklace that featured her name. 

“That’s cheating,” she laughed. “But yeah, it’s Michelle. What’s yours?”

He smiled, his eyes sparkling with mischief as if he was about to tell her a lie. But there was an honesty in his face that she couldn’t help but trust. 

“It’s Bruno.”

It was only about three more drinks until Michelle slipped her hand into his. They were warm. Soft. She pulled him toward the door, and he almost looked a little surprised.

“Where we going, then?” he chuckled, as she pulled him down to the beach. 

“For a walk,” she whispered, as she pulled off her heels. He took off his shoes as well, and they continued their conversation. He really was unbearably funny. He had her cracking up with laughter so hard that she thought she’d start tearing up. 

But after one particularly loud laugh, he stopped her, and before she even registered what was happening, he’d pulled her in close to him, pressing his lips to hers. 

Michelle melted into the kiss, throwing her arms around his neck, and moaning softly into it. His hands fell to her waist, holding her to him, and he teased her lips with his tongue. She opened to him, groaning contentedly at how good he kissed her. 

Their chemistry was electric, and it was all she could do to not kick his legs out from under him and fuck him right there on the sand. Shit, she might do just that. The thought seemed more and more appealing the more his hands roamed over her backless dress.

But they broke apart, if only briefly, and she teased him softly.

“What’s that about then? Just ‘cause I laughed at your jokes doesn’t mean I wanted to kiss you?”

He smiled mischievously at her, sending a spark through her body. “I know I'm not that funny.”

She laughed again, slipping her hand back into his, pulling him up through the darkness toward some beach loungers arranged on the sand. He slid into one, and she straddled him kissing him deeply as he lay back. It felt effortless, kissing him like this. His lips on hers. It was driving her absolutely crazy. His hands roamed over her back, and she threaded hers through his hair, pulling on it gently. He moaned under her hands, and she leaned back. 

“You like that?” she whispered, “When I pull your hair?”

He gazed up at her, and smirked playfully, as if daring her to do it again. She pulled it harder, and his mouth fell open with a gasp. 

She leaned down, kissing him deeply, letting her teeth drag over his lower lip. He groaned, taking a handful of her own hair, pulling her closer to him. Bruno’s other hand curled around her waist, pulling her body down to his. He held her by her hair, moving her head to the side as he kissed her neck with purpose. 

His tongue trailed downward, over her collarbone, kissing and nipping at her skin as he gently moved the fabric of her dress to the side. He pressed his lips to her exposed nipples, tracing his tongue over her, and she moaned. He dropped his hand to her thigh, sliding it upward slowly, as if testing the waters to see if it was what she wanted. She rolled her hips on him, and he slipped his hand under her dress, gently tracing his thumb over the inside of her thigh. She spread her legs slightly, and he read her like a set of cue cards, as he slipped his hand inside her underwear. He traced a finger slowly up her slit, sighing into their kiss as he felt how wet she was. He drew a sigh from her in return as he parted her lips, pressing his fingers against her clit.

Michelle dropped her hands to his shirt, starting on the buttons, and kissing his neck as he touched her. She flung it open, revealing an impressively toned physique, and her fingers fell to the hair sprinkled across it, before slowly tracing down his stomach. She fiddled with his belt for a moment, flinging it open, masterfully unbuttoning his shorts and the zip between them with her lips pressed to his. She slid her hand into his boxers, groaning with delight at the size of what she found within.

Bruno took a break from kissing her skin to glance up at her. “Hey… wait.”

She paused. 

“I… I’m leaving in a few days. Just so you know. Like I’m not… gonna be around long. It wouldn’t be fair for me to not tell you and–”

She shook her head. How the fuck was this guy single? 

“--That’s good, because I’m leaving tomorrow.”

“Oh, well in that case,” he chuckled, pulling her in to kiss her again, his pace lifting slightly on her clit. “How would you feel about walking a little further? Say… four hundred metres that way towards the nice hotel I’m staying in?”

She looked down at him. “What happened to sex on the beach?”

He looked a little surprised at the challenge, and for a moment, she wondered if he wasn’t as bold as he seemed. 

But he smirked at her. “I suppose I did offer?”

Michelle laughed again, as he resumed his movements, his mind seemingly made up. She moved her hand up and down gently on him, her hand teasing his tip, as he groaned into her skin. He kissed her exposed breasts, the perfect pressure on her nipples as he… 

She gasped, as he ever-so-gently ran his teeth along her breast. God, this man had a magic mouth. Funny, sweet, fucking incredible kisser, he… oh.

He flipped her on to her back, and made moves. Big moves. Southward. 

Michelle smiled to herself as he took a last glance around. Finding them satisfactorily cloaked in darkness, he reached beneath her dress, pulling her underwear down and over her legs. He handed them to her with a smirk, and kissed the inside of her thigh as he pushed her dress higher. She could feel the warm night air on her exposed skin, only made warmer by Bruno’s breath as his lips moved higher up her thigh. As his tongue connected with her, she let a deep breath flow from her. But it turned to a long shuddered, moan as his mouth moved with an expertise and enthusiasm that had her writhing.

Her hand fell back to his hair, and he followed where she led him, moaning as if he’d grown it out for this exact purpose. His eagerness to please had her legs spread wide underneath him, his strong arms wrapped around her thighs as his mouth worked against her. He was good. Too good. Fuck.

“Bruno, fuck,”

He moaned his approval into her as her legs started to shudder a little. She wanted to push up into him. She wanted the depth of it. She wanted him to take his cock out and–

Too late.

He brought her over the edge with his tongue before she could even stop to beg him to fuck her. But as she came down, she started begging for it anyway. 

“Fuck me. Please.”

He rose to his knees to dig his wallet out of his pocket, and she sat up. As he fumbled with it, she pulled his shorts down, releasing him from his boxers and taking him in her mouth. It seemed to short-circuit his brain for a second, as his wallet fell to the sand beside them, and he groaned, bringing his hands to the back of her head. Fucking hell, this was the most fun she’d had mostly-clothed in ages. 

“Ohhh, fuck, you’re good at that. Shit.”

She glanced up at him, and he angled his hips away, retrieving his wallet and slipping a condom out. He had it on in seconds, and she almost laughed at how decisively he laid her back. He angled himself downward, swiping his tip up and down her slit, before pressing into her. 

Michelle’s breath caught as he did, the intoxicating stretch of him filling her drawing her legs to around his waist, pulling him deeper. She took a second to get used to him, and glanced up, only to find him watching her. 

“You okay?” he whispered, and she nodded, her cheeks warming a little at the care in his eyes. He smiled down at her, but didn’t move. 

“What?” 

“You are so fuckin’ beautiful,” he whispered. 

“Stop being a melt, and fuck me,” she teased.

His mouth fell open, and she laughed at the scoff of mock offence that left his lips. But he drew his hips back, and thrust into her. Hard.

She gasped, and he dropped his lips to her ear. 

“You asked for it.”

He thrust into her again, withdrawing his hips and rolling them back against her with the expertise of a dancer. She hadn’t been expecting it. This rhythm, the flexibility, the… god, he felt so good. 

Bruno’s arms were underneath her, holding her in place by her shoulders, the angle perfect, she depth flawless. Her dress was up around her waist now, his shorts around his ankles, fucking her so good she forgot that she’d only met him hours ago.

“Bruno, Jesus, fuck,” she moaned. “You feel so good.”

“Says you," he growled his approval into her ear. "God, I could do this all night.”

Michelle gasped, a flush of heat rushing to between her legs, and she ran her hands through his hair again. He grabbed the top of the sun lounge for leverage, fucking her harder, deeper, and she could do nothing but let her mouth fall open. He was going to make her come again, she was fucking sure of it. 

All she needed was more of him. 

“Let me on top,” she gasped, and he immediately complied, pulling out of her, and flipping onto his back. She slid herself back on to him, and had him in the perfect spot. 

“Oh, fuck, yes,” she groaned, as he bent his knees, his fingers digging into her hips as he moved with her rhythm. She arched her back, her exposed nipples hardened by the ocean air. 

Her hands fell to his chest, pressing down hard onto him as she fucked him, intoxicated by the sound of his muttered curses between her desperate gasps. She leaned back, and felt him right at her g-spot, and she practically cried out, begging him to keep fucking her, not to stop, to hold it there. He read her again, giving her every movement she needed, and her head fell back as it sent her over the edge again.

“Bruno, fuck, yes,”

He groaned with delight as she clamped around him, thrusting into her at just the right pace to hold her at her peak. He pressed his thumb to her clit, sending her back to the crest, the waves of it washing over and over as he held her there. 

Eventually, it all became too much, and she pushed his hand away, too sensitive to do anything other than shudder on top of him. She could barely move her legs, so she slid off him, ripping the condom off him and taking him in her mouth. He gasped as her mouth enveloped him, and she flicked her tongue against his tip from inside. His hands fell to the back of her head as she licked and sucked at him. 

“Ohh, just like that,” he groaned. “Fuckkk,”

She gave him as much of her as she could possibly give him, desperately working her mouth until his grip in her hair tightened.

“Fuck, fuck, I’m coming, fuck”

She took him as deep as she could, feeling him pulse under her lips as he came down her throat, hitting his peak with a deep gasp that almost made her want to go again.

She waited until he’d caught his breath before releasing him from her mouth. As she pulled his boxers back into place, she glanced up at him, his arm across his eyes as his chest heaved. 

“Holy fuck,” he whispered. “That was fucking amazing,”

She crawled up next to him, and he lifted his arm, pulling her into his side. She rested her head on his shoulder, wrapping her arm around his waist, and frowning to herself. Why, of all the days for her to meet someone like him, did it have to be now?

There was something about him, something so unbelievably special, it almost felt strange. She already knew she liked him. She kind of wanted to date him. She definitely wanted to get his number. The sex was phenomenal, the conversation effortless… 

He sighed. “I hope this isn’t weird, but I’m actually kinda bummed you’re leaving tomorrow.” He pulled her closer, kissing her forehead, and making her swoon a little. 

She smiled, snuggling in closer. “Same. Never thought I’d be unhappy about going to Mallorca.”

“Oh, shit,” he laughed. “That’s where I’m going, too, but in four days.”

“Ha!” She laughed. “I’d say I’ll see you there, but I won’t. I’ve got something on.”

“Yeah, don’t worry. I’ve got a commitment that might keep me there for a while, and I won’t be able to socialise.”

It… wait. She propped herself up on one elbow. 

“Hang on…” she questioned. “You’re not talking about…”

His eyes went wide, and his lips parted in shock. “No fuckin’ way,”

“Are you—“

“Are you—  “

They both went silent, waiting for the other to say it. 

She whispered. “Love Island?”

He burst out laughing, and nodded. She cracked up alongside him, burying her head in his chest. 

“So much for a one night stand.” He laughed. “We’re about to be locked in a house together for weeks.”

But she bit her lip, full of liquid confidence, and high on the excitement of it all. “Can I just say…”

He raised an eyebrow at her, encouraging her to go on. She buried her face in his neck. Even though it was dark, she was sure the blush would come through in her voice somehow. 

“I’m actually kind of thrilled I get to see you again?”

There was another small silence, and she lifted her head again. Almost on cue, he lifted his hand to her hair, pulling her into him, kissing her deeply as she traced her fingers along his jaw. 

Bruno smiled at her. “Same. And now, I already know who I’m picking once I get in.”

Five days later:

Will was practically jumping up and down to get the game started. 

“Never have I ever had sex on the beach.”

Michelle’s eyes caught Bruno’s and they both smiled, sharing nothing with anyone but each other.

He lifted his drink, hiding his smile, and averted his eyes, as if innocently pondering the question. 

“I know, baby. And I meant it when I said it back.”

God, this was like a dream.

The second he’d seen her, he was spellbound. She was relaxed. Confident. Her skin was like his; a warm mahogany, and it shone in the sun, though hers was softer. Smoother. He was almost certain his jaw had hit the floor when she stepped out of the villa. And he’d picked it up with a laugh, and a deep breath, knowing for sure that a woman like that wouldn’t take a second look at him. But as their eyes met, a small smile had curled on her full lips, and she’d walked directly to him. He’d gone for pretty much the whole first day with his mouth slightly gaping. 

And when she’d tried to kiss him?

Hoo, boy. He was done for.

He’d hesitated, at first. How the fuck was he supposed to compete with Suresh? He was straight off of a ‘most eligible bachelor’ list. But Nadia couldn’t have been less interested. 

Nadia wanted him. 

One conversation was all it took. Their sense of humour, their families, their values - it had flowed so easily. It was as if they’d been carved for each other, two parts of a whole, their edges meeting flush, just like the one dusted across her cheeks. 

Nadia’s gaze had never faltered, not once. She had eyes for him, and him alone. It took him a hot minute to trust that it wasn’t just some sick practical joke. She really did want him. Alfie still wasn’t sure why… but Finn had slapped some sense into him. When the universe presents you a gift like that, you don’t question it. You say thank you, and hope to god you don’t fuck it up. 

So fuck it, he went all in. 

No one agreed to go exclusive after two days coupled up. No one. But they did. And now, she was his.

Suresh had been proper ropeable when he found out, and to be fair, Alfie didn’t blame him. He couldn’t imagine how much it would hurt to see Nadia with someone else. This was a woman you locked down. This was a woman you treated like royalty. This was a woman who deserved the world, and she was halfway to being the entirety of his already. She deserved to be worshipped. And god, how he was dying to worship her. 

But like the world’s biggest fucking idiot, he’d told her he wanted to take things slow. He’d thought that ‘taking it slow’ was just what you did when you really cared about someone. But he’d never wanted to go faster with anyone in his life. 

He’d fallen for Nadia the minute she’d brushed her lips across his. Like the rest of her, they were soft, but there was a decisiveness behind them. Her honey-flavoured lip balm was how heaven tasted in his dreams, and he’d been aching, aching to taste the rest of her. He was ready to skip the plane, and fly hands, mouth, and cock into wherever she wanted him. 

But even as recently as the day before, there he was. Denying her. Insisting that they take it slow. 

Whenever she kissed him, he could tell she was desperate, pressing for more. He could feel the tension in her body. God, how he ached to be the one releasing her. To be the one whose name she gasped. To be the one drawing those little noises he’d heard so much about.

So there they were, exclusive, and face to face, a soft light filtering through the sheets. Alfie took her chin in his hand. He stroked her cheek with his thumb, and a soft smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. 

“What?” she whispered. “What are you smiling at?”

Alfie shook his head, incredulous that she even had to ask. He just pulled her close, kissing her gently. 

She opened her mouth to him, as he slipped his tongue in to meet hers. His fingertips were stroking gently at her hips, silently praying that she would just go for it. That way, he could keep pretending he hadn’t had to hold himself back every time she brushed up against him. Hadn’t had to push the thought of her writhing beneath him from his mind. The thought of her hands on his chest, his fingertips digging into her thighs, as she rode him to fucking heaven and back.

He didn’t want to seem like the kind of lad who couldn’t keep his cool around her.

But the mental image of his hands on her body were doing absolutely nothing to help.

He could feel that he was properly losing control of his body. The shred of self control he had left was screaming at him to stop, but her arms were wrapped fully around his neck now. Her back was arching under his hands, pushing herself into him. She was begging him for it. 

There was no way his body was letting him turn her down again. 

He was practically shaking with anticipation, and he spread her legs with his knee, resting his thigh between them, and pressing upward against her, a tiny whimper falling from her lips. He broke their kiss, allowing his lips to trail down her jaw, and onto her neck. Nadia gasped, sending a shockwave through his entire body, and he moaned against her skin.

He inched inside her silken camisole, the soft fabric catching on the rough callouses of his palms. But he traced his hand onto her breast, slipping the fabric over her head as he brushed his thumb over her nipple. Her lips parted and she gently brushed them along the outside of his ear. He couldn’t hold back. He took her nipple in his mouth, flicking his tongue across the ridges and taking her in.

Her skin was every part as soft as he’d dreamed, melting under his rough palms as if it were healing them. But where his hands were abrasive, his lips were smooth, glazing over her skin with a slick desperation as he pressed them to every inch of her. Fuck. 

Alfie wasn’t usually a jealous guy. He never let himself get invested enough to develop feelings like that. But with Nadia, it was like the jealousy had implanted itself in his body. The roots had grown the very first time Suresh had interrupted their chat to take her away, and they’d only dug deeper every time someone else wrapped their hand around her waist. He wanted it to be him. Needed it to be him. And now that he had her, the urge to take her as his was… 

He trailed his tongue up to her collarbone, inhaling deeply as he got to her neck. He planted a particularly rough bite to her neck, as she gasped into his ear. He pulled back to gauge her reaction, and found only parted, swollen lips, and a deep, desparate gaze, silently blessing him to take as much of her as he wanted. 

And fuck, he needed to take all of her.

Alfie paused for a moment, hearing someone heavily turn over on the other side of the room. He glanced over, and saw the vague outline of Suresh, rolling to face away from them. 

Fuck. 

“Don’t worry about him” she whispered. But he was so fucking nervous. How the fuck was he supposed to compare? He wasn’t the most dominant guy at the best of times, what if she liked a guy to be dominant in bed? What if she…

“Alfie,” she whispered.

“Huh?”

Nadia almost chuckled at the surprise in his voice.

“Are you trying to be my first?”

He furrowed his brow at her. “First what?”

She smiled a little, pulling his ear close to her lips. “The first man I ever beg?”

He shuddered above her, completely silent as her words sunk in. The image of her begging him to fuck her echoed through his head. He’d never been this hard in his life, and he knew she could feel it. He was getting way too worked up. Another thing to fucking worry about. 

“Sorry,” he whispered. “I’m just really nervous.”

She pulled him in to kiss him again. “I don’t want to rush you. But god, I want you so badly.”

It sent a chill down his spine, all the way to his cock, which twitched with anticipation, begging him to let it loose on her. Alfie kissed her neck again, moaning into her skin. “God, I want you, too. I want you so fuckin’ much.”

His lips quivered with excitement, but she steadied them as she bit his bottom lip gently. 

She lifted his chin with a single, slender finger, her nail a delicious scratch against his skin. “Then take me.”

He shuddered with anticipation again as she pushed his head downward. He swallowed, hard, as his kisses sank lower, onto her sternum, and trailing needily onto her stomach. 

Her tiny silken shorts were barely covering anything, and he could feel her heat on his chest. Her thighs parted for him, as she teased the sheets beneath them with anticipation. He continued the warm path of his lips right down to between her thighs, his breath teasing her through the fabric. The silk of her shorts was so soft as he ran his lips across it, the ridges of what lay beneath it making his breath catch. He pressed his lips firmly against where he knew she’d be desperate for it, and smiled a little to himself as she practically lurched underneath him. She lifted her hips, silently instructing him to pull her shorts off, and he readily obeyed. His fingers traced down her smooth legs as he removed them, carefully placing them beside the bed so she could reach them later.  

He lowered himself back down, his heart absolutely pounding. He knew he was good at it. He knew that for sure. Had a reputation for it, in fact. He could be a bit rough with his hands, but his mouth?

As comfortable as he was in his ability, this felt different. This felt so important. What if she didn’t like the way he did it? What if he couldn’t make her….

But his thoughts were quickly drowned out by the shallow gasp that he drew from her as his tongue met her clit. He groaned with excitement, and watched as she drew the sheets into her fists beside her. His confidence rushed, and he parted her thighs wider, working his mouth on her, his fingertips digging into her soft thighs as he held them open.

Alfie heard furious whispering through the covers, and paused for a moment. He could hear Suresh furiously whispering to Eddie. 

“...No respect. They’ve got no fucking respect.”

Alfie glanced up at Nadia, who looked more disappointed than she had been by anything so far, and he knew exactly why. 

This was all so unfair on her. She wanted to move on with him. But Suresh just would not stop getting in the way. It’d scared Alfie off. He wasn’t about the drama, the mindgames, the having to fight over her… even if she was the woman of his dreams. 

But he was done with Suresh’s mind games. Done with Nadia having to miss out. Done with Suresh breathing down their necks. 

He just wished he could put a stop to it, wished he knew of a way to get it in their heads. Nadia has moved the fuck on.

Something rushed through him - boldness, braveness, craziness, horniness… Whatever you wanted to call it, it filled him so wholly that it plastered a cocky smirk on his face. And he brought his mouth back to her. 

Nadia’s eyes darted down at him as if he was crazy. He almost chuckled, but instead, he sucked at her, making her hips buck upwards against his face as he buried it into her.

Without giving a single fuck if Suresh was listening. 

Alfie moved his tongue and lips against her, silently hoping it was OK with her. But the way her legs had fallen open to him, and the vice grip she had on the back of his head, told him he’d made the right choice. He broke away from her, taking a teasing moment to kiss and nip at her thighs, silently reprimanding himself for hoping it left a mark.

But then… it fucking happened. 

The tiniest whimper to start with, so quiet he might’ve almost missed it. But as he traced his lips back upward toward her slit, he heard it again. 

It was half gasps, half shuddering squeaks. 

The most desperate, wanting, needing, ravenous, pleading sounds he’d ever heard. 

Holyyyy fffuuuuucccckkkkkk

His mouth fell open, and he crashed it back to her clit, furiously fucking her with his mouth as she clapped her hand over hers, trying to stifle the sounds before everyone in the room decided they wanted a piece of her. 

He was grinding his hips into the bed as he moved his tongue on her, desperate, desperate for her. Desperate to feel her come against his face. Desparate to fuck her straight after. To be inside her. To make her come again, and again, and again. To know she was making those noises for him.

Her thighs gripped his head, and her back arched, but still, he was relentless. He did not let up, not even as she came. He pushed her back to the peak of her orgasm, over and over, until her legs were completely shaking. He finally released her, and shuffled up without a word, just in time to hear Suresh storming out of the room, clearly having pelted something down the stairs with a smash. 

But Alfie was done giving a fuck. 

Those fucking noises had ripped every shred of shame, nerves, or any lingering hesitation he might’ve given about it. He was going to fuck her, and he was going to fuck her now.

He flipped the sheet off their heads briefly, slipping his achingly tight shorts off, and Nadia bit her lip, nodding her approval at him to get what he needed. He ripped the condom open, and had it on so fast that Nadia honest to God almost giggled, but Alfie wasn’t in the mood for a fuckin’ laugh. 

He pulled the sheet back over their heads, lifting her legs by the knees and wrapping them around his waist. She gasped at the decisiveness in his actions, but he said nothing, and just angled himself toward her centre. He pressed his tip to her, and he heard her breath catch with anticipation. 

As he pushed inside her, their breath caught in parallel. He could feel the last rippling waves of her orgasm clenching around him, and she was so tight he almost gasped. Her legs were still shaking as she wrapped them around his waist, fuck, she felt so fucking good. 

Even without the slick from his tongue, she was so wet for him he could barely contain himself. He’d never had a girl feel so much like she was made for him, and he was way, way too worked up over it. 

He tried to calm himself down, running through the process of creating a windowframe. The joins and the edges, the jigsaw, the nails, the…

But Nadia started rolling her hips against him. 

His head dropped back a little, and he exhaled heavily at how fucking incredible she felt. He thrust into her, hard, and it started again. 

Those tiny, pleading mewls, right in his ear. 

Before he knew it, he had his hand clamped firmly over her mouth. He leaned down, and hissed it into her ear. 

“If you don’t shut up, this is going to be over embarrassingly quickly.”

But the deep groan of approval she huffed into his hand was almost worse. 

She knew exactly what she was doing to him. 

Alfie narrowed his eyes at her, drawing his hips back, and thrusting into her. Hard.

Her eyelids fluttered in apparent delight, before meeting his once more. He held her gaze, looking right into her eyes, and thrust again, sending her eyes rolling back into her head. 

Watching her coming apart with every thrust made him feel more God than man, more man than dumb goofball. Watching a woman like her turn into a writhing, whimpering mess underneath him, it… 

Nadia’s nails were already digging into his back, her shuddering breath on his skin, as he dropped his forehead to hers, finally releasing her mouth from under his hand. But instead of the breathy squeaks, she gasped into his ear. 

“From behind, please, please baby, please.”

He pulled out of her, flipping her onto her stomach, and pushing her legs together. He ripped the pillow from underneath her head, placing it under her hips, and leaned down over her. 

“What my baby wants…” he slid back into her, as she gasped her approval. But he couldn’t even finish his sentence, from how rigid his jaw had gone. 

If he’d thought she was tight before, this was… holy fuck. His body completely took over, his fingers gripping her hips with such ferocity he was sure he’d be hurting her, but her hands rushed for the headboard. As they reached it, she braced herself, pushing back into him, rolling her hips to meet his ruthless thrusts.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, he gasped. He was way, way too fucking close. 

He lifted her hips slightly, curling one hand underneath her, his fingers slick with her wetness, but he pressed them to her clit. 

But she started again. And louder this time. Those fucking sounds.

With one hand holding her hips steady, one on her clit, he didn’t have any left to clamp around her mouth to shut her up. He just had to keep going, pressing his fingers against her clit as hard as he could, desperate to get her there again. He was dangling right on the edge, curling his toes to try and hold off, and fuck, fuck, fuck. 

He felt her. 

Nadia gasped, her intoxicating mewls turning to a whimpering moan, as her walls clamped onto him. She came so hard she went completely silent, gripping his cock with such intensity that he lost it entirely. He followed her instantly; their bodies lurching as one as he emptied inside her, his soul and all his energy sucked from him like the vice grip she still had on his cock. 

He couldn’t help but roll her hips gently back and forth on him. His entire length ached from the escalating sensitivity, but he kept rolling into those beautiful hips, incapable of pulling out of her when she felt this good. But it quickly became too much, and he had to stop the movement, lowering himself onto his elbows on top of her. 

He didn’t say anything just yet, it wouldn’t have seemed right. So he just planted kisses to the back of her shoulders, breathing in the taste of sweat on her skin. He curled his hands underneath her, hugging her, holding her, laughing at her moan of protest as he finally began to pull out.

“Noooo-” she complained, softly.

“Sorry, beautiful’,” he chuckled quietly, as he pulled the condom off and dumped it in the bin beside the bed. He kissed her forehead as he snuggled in next to her. “I’ve gotta let you sleep for at least a few hours before I–”

But Kat’s voice shattered the silence. “-- Holyy fuuuuuuccckkkk?”

“Now, now, Kat. You had your chance.” Eddie responded, trying desperately not to laugh.

“Puttin’ us all to shame, there, Alf.” Finn agreed.

“Who would’ve thought?” Dana giggled. “Alfie!”, and the rest of the islanders broke into a fit of giggles. 

“Alright, alright, leave off,” he called, as Nadia tried to stifle her laughter. 

She covered her face in embarrassment, giggling. As the others calmed, Nadia whispered to him. “I’m sorry. About the noises”.

This time, it was he who turned her face to his. He pulled her close to him, whispering in her ear. 

“I’m not.”

Nadia snickered, running her soft fingers against his stubble, and pulled him in for another kiss.

He pressed his lips to hers, over and over, holding her naked body to his chest. He would do whatever it took to feel like this forever.

If it meant throwing hesitation out the window, he would do it.

If it meant not giving a fuck what Suresh thought of it, he would do it. 

If it meant he could hold on to this woman forever? He would do anything. 

And the world would just have to get used to it.

Shannon Callaghan had never, ever lost in life. She had always been a winner in every sense possible. Blessed with quick wit and a sharp eye for details, since childhood, she had learned and known by heart how to get ahead and finesse a win for herself– she had never once unable to have the people around her at her beck and call, nor unable to have everything she wanted in the palm of her hand. She knew how to strike people where it hurt and bend them to her will.

She knew how to play ‘em like the fucking Beatles without fail… until Love Island.

Gosh, it was a fucking embarrassment. Shannon Callaghan, Dublin’s Ace, a professional poker player with an undefeated win streak and the ability to read people like an open book, fucking losing to not one, but two lying meatheads with the only redeeming quality being their abs after masterfully playing her way into the main villa as a Casa Amor girl?

And on fucking national television on top of all that?

A clown show. A fucking clown show.

Shannon would rather die than let that bitch Jo have the satisfaction of seeing her sweat when she dragged her luggage out of the Mallorca villa, even when her feet felt like lead and the wheels of the suitcase seemed stuck at one place onto the ground.

Just take the high road, Shannon. Act like you’re not bothered, get the fuck out, and never, ever, let yourself be outplayed like that, ever again.

Head held high and a fake smile plastered on her face, Shannon left the villa without turning back. She would take this as a learning lesson to never, ever fuck up like this, ever again.

—

But of course, even the Ace of Dublin was human, and it was completely human to just want to run away from everything to somewhere far after suddenly having flashbacks of the public humiliation of being played by two people who didn’t even end up staying together for long. Even after three entire fucking years since the second season of Love Island.

And that was how she ended up in Nevada, United States of America, on the third anniversary of Love Island Season Two.

Seriously, Shannon? Las fucking Vegas?

Shannon had been chastising herself the entire flight from Dublin because the rowdy scene of Vegas was anything but befitting of her image of a poised and classy woman, but also in her defence, she had wanted to go somewhere wild and fun, but also would allow her to swipe a pot or two of the cha-ching because who wouldn’t love to take some more money out of snobbish rich people’s pockets anyway?

She supposed she should do something different for a change, after all.

—

Las Vegas was… something. Shannon was pleasantly surprised, actually.

She didn’t really expect herself to enjoy her trip as much as she was.

The food was amazing. Her hotel was actually very fancy and the service was top notch, all things considered, and the casinos, especially the casinos, had been exceeding her expectations so far.

In the past three days, she had managed to make just shy of a million dollars, much to the dealers’ utmost surprise and the other players’ anger.

Darlings, you don’t know what real poker is.

Smirking to herself, Shannon put on the most flashy sequin gown she owned, before running her perfectly manicured hand through her fiery curls, touching up her lipstick and adjusting the deep v-neck of her dress to show off the delicious curves of her body, then slipped on her sparkly silver heels and headed down to the casino.

Time for business.

Tonight, Shannon would win big again. These crusty old men and their airhead trophy wives were too predictable. She would not have any trouble making them a little less rich at all. Her streak in the last three nights had proven that much.

It would be a great night.

Except the next morning, Shannon woke up with the biggest hangover she had ever experienced in her life in an unfamiliar (yet super comfortable) four-poster bed with the fanciest canopy she had ever seen, in a fancy room that definitely was not the Vegas hotel room she had paid good money for.

The silver gown she wore last night was hastily thrown on some fancy-arse chair in front of an ivory vanity table. Her heels were lying lonely on the polished mahogany floor at the corner of the room, by the curtains draping over a huge window that she could only assume was floor-to-ceiling. And her knickers–

Fuck, my knickers.

To Shannon’s utmost horror, her knickers somehow ended up on top of the window bar holding the golden silk curtains up high.

Wait…

Shannon realised that she was naked. Completely naked. In a strange bed. In a strange room.

What the fuck what the fuck what the fuc–

“You’re up, lovely.”

As the sing-song voice slowly registered in Shannon’s head, she turned around. Her eyes widened.

A young woman about the same age as Shannon and equally as naked as Shannon was propped herself up from the plush mattress, a mischievous smile twinkling on her delicate face as her long, wavy chocolate brown hair fell all over her pale golden skin.

Before Shannon could even react, the young woman laughed,

“You were really loud last night, wifey.”

Wifey… Huh…

Huh?

Shannon immediately brought her left hand up to her face, and instantly, dread, confusion and fear filled up her bloodstream. The awfully gaudy diamond ring on her left ring finger that she definitely did not shell out any money for was twinkling almost too happily, as if to mock her that she definitely had just broken her new three-year-long streak of no clownery by getting married to who she assumed was the young woman in bed next to her last night.

Amazing. She came to Vegas to forget the time she got clowned on national television, only to end up clowning herself all over again.

Shannon Callaghan, what the fuck did you just get yourself into?

The strange girl, or allegedly, Shannon’s new wife, chuckled playfully as Shannon literally began ripping her hair out of her head, but nonetheless, offered a sympathetic smile, then hopped off the bed, shamelessly letting the blanket fell back onto the bed to reveal soft, smooth skin, perky tits and arse and a delicate, petite frame. Then she disappeared into what Shannon could assume was a probably very fancy and huge-as-shit bathroom, and soon, Shannon heard water running as a faint waft of floral fragrance began hitting her nose and permeating the air around her.

Then the water stopped and her new “wife” returned with a gigantic, fluffy towel and tossed it onto the bed.

“Just ran you a hot bath, beautiful,” the brunette winked, “Hope it helps.”

In all honesty, Shannon’s head was just too fucked for her to even have the energy to protest. Hence, she wordlessly nodded, covered herself with the towel, then headed into the bathroom for the hot bath the girl had just offered her.

Holy–

Shannon guessed right. This bathroom was at least twice as big as the communal bathroom in the Mallorca villa. And fancy. Really fancy. White-marble-and-gold type shit fancy. Like, who in the fucking hell beside the filthy rich people would fucking run a hot bath with rose petals and fucking gold leaves so casually just like that?

As Shannon slid into the bubbly hot (and expensive) water, a contented sigh involuntarily escaped her mouth, her mind began wandering. By deduction, whoever this girl, who Shannon had just apparently married the night before because Shannon just had to stupidly demote herself from being the Ace to being the fucking Joker for whatever reason, was, she had got to be among the filthy rich.

One of those crazy rich Asians. Like in that one movie starring the British-Malay heartthrob Henry Golding.

Shannon honestly hoped that this whole getting married thing was just a prank. A game. Like those rich people’s games when they had nothing better to do. But even so, clearly, she had definitely got herself into a mess with one of them.

And she needed to get out.

Breathe, Shannon, breathe. You can do this. You can play your way out of here.

“Are you alright? Is the water to your liking?”

The girl, now clad in a golden silk robe, daintily sat down by the bathtub. That snapped Shannon out of her thoughts.

“I’m fine,” Shannon offered a weak smile through the headache wrecking her brain, “Thank you.”

The girl smiled in return and nodded, and Shannon had now just realised that perhaps she was not so stupid having impulsively got herself tangled up in this situation after all.

Big brown eyes, thick and long lashes, a cute button nose and peachy soft lips that Shannon just wanted to take a bite. This girl was fucking gorgeous.

Last night must’ve been fucking amazing, then.

“I’m Kariel, just in case you forgot, which I think you actually did,” the girl chuckled, “and we had a great time and even a wedding in Vegas last night.”

Oh fuck so it did happen.

“Oh, and,” Kariel grinned almost a little too happily to Shannon’s comfort, “We’re on our honeymoon in my vacation home. In Macau.”

Huh…?

Shannon blinked once, twice, and then–

“MACAU!?”

—

“Too easy.”

This was the fourth time tonight that Shannon had been able to scoop all three players at her table with little trouble and made three new enemies in the process. But what could they do? She had beaten them fair and square in front of many. They could be bitter all they wanted. It wasn’t like their deals on the NYSE or NASDAQ trading floor wouldn’t recuperate that money for them the next day anyway.

All eyes were on Shannon. She smirked to herself. How she missed being praised like a goddess in front of many just like this.

After that stint Ibrahim pulled on her three years ago, she needed this more than ever.

Out of the admiring and seething eyes on her, Shannon could feel it. A certain someone was watching her. A certain someone who she could make out of the corner of her eye to be as intriguing and perhaps intelligent as they were extremely pleasant on the eye.

An amused smile curled on her lips. She knew they were approaching her from behind.

“Good evening, lovely.”

A sing-song voice softly caressed Shannon’s ear. A perfectly manicured French tips hand daintily brushed over her shoulder. Shannon didn’t shrug it off.

Her nostril caught a waft of a citrusy floral scent that she immediately recognised as Atelier Cologne’s Pacific Lime. Very expensive shit. Recently discontinued in the United States and Canada, and only sold exclusively now in Europe.

Shannon could tell that this woman was among the actually rich society in the casino tonight.

“Kariel Leung,” the woman smiled and took a step forward, now in front of Shannon, “I’m very impressed at how you played these old geezers. Almost made me want to make a bet against their wives on you to beat ‘em all tonight.”

Of fucking course. Rich bitch™. Only a rich bitch would make bets on people betting just like that.

Shannon involuntarily let a snicker slip, but she honestly couldn’t stay annoyed for too long as soon as her eyes fell upon the woman who had just introduced herself as Kariel, now up close and personal right in front of her.

What a vision, Shannon had to admit. Kariel was stunning. Drop dead gorgeous, even. Petite frame in a casual black bandage gown with cut-outs across the chest that hugged her perky curves in all the right places, balancing gracefully on a pair of simple black stilettos. Long chocolate brown hair gently curled into perfect ringlets. Pale golden skin that basically glowed under the soft golden light illuminating the casino floor. Light, yet immaculate makeup accentuating long, dark lashes over brown almond-shaped eyes on a delicate face framed by a pair of plain dangling gold earrings. Soft lips painted in brick red and plumped with deliciously juicy gloss.

Classy. Elegant. Beautiful.

Shannon realised that this girl didn’t even need to put out all the stops with the flashy bling-bling to get the message across that she was beyond just rich. Her black bandage dress looked casual enough, but upon a closer look, it was unmistakably a vintage Herve Leger piece that was at least a few thousand quids. Her black stilettos seemed quite basic and simple, but the signature red soles of Louboutin shoes on their underside said otherwise.

Kariel was not just rich, but rich and powerful. It was the quiet luxury she was displaying that had convinced Shannon to believe that this girl was not one to trifle with.

But that didn’t scare Shannon, nor stop her from getting snarky with the rich girl anyway.

“Glad to have impressed you,” Shannon put on a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, “but I’d rather not be a racehorse to entertain you and the snobbish airheads married to the dumb geezers I’ve just wiped the floor with.”

Kariel raised an eyebrow, and Shannon fistbumped herself inside.

Good job Shannon.

“Now if you would excuse me,” Shannon let that fake smile twitch on her face again, before dropping it completely and opting for a more serious look to show that she was done playing games, “There’s another table calling my name to swipe all that cash from.”

But much to Shannon’s surprise, Kariel wasn’t even fazed one bit at the not-so-subtle “fuck you” Shannon had just given her. Instead, the Asian woman returned Shannon’s fake smile with an amused smirk on her face, then gracefully turned around and beckoned Shannon to follow her.

“Oh, yes,” Kariel’s laugh was musical, “You’re right. There’s a table waiting for you over here. But I’m not so sure about you scooping ‘em all just yet.”

Then the girl turned back briefly to face Shannon,

“Come, Dublin’s Ace. Let’s see how you fare yourself against me. One on one. My game.”

“How the f–

“Love Island is my guilty pleasure, Shannon Callaghan,” Kariel laughed again, “But anyway, let’s play some Chinese poker. A pro like you wouldn’t have a problem with such a simple game, I’d imagine.”

Shannon could only blink in confusion, but still, the proud Dublin’s Ace in her didn’t want to give that away. She had a reputation and an image to maintain, after all.

Besides, the game was simple enough. Beginner-friendly, even. Stacking thirteen cards in three hands of five, five, and three, from the bottom up, in ascending order of hand. Shannon would only need to win two out three hands to earn her cash for the round.

There would be no way in hell she would lose. Especially not to a rich bitch™.

Beating this rich girl and shutting that sing-song laugh up for good would probably be really fun, actually.

“Alright, you’ve got my attention. Let’s play.”

—

Tonight, Shannon had learned three things.

One, Kariel was actually a fucking Macanese heiress. Her father actually owned this casino, plus its international branches in both Monte Carlo and Macau, which explained how the dealers were basically at her beck and call and more than ready to accommodate a game of Chinese poker just for two players because Vegas casinos didn’t host this kind of poker very often, actually.

Two, Kariel was actually good at the game. None of that luck bollocks. The heiress was, in fact, so bloody skilled and actually was very intelligent and strategic with her gameplay.

Usually, people would bolster their bottom hand because that would be the highest hand in the set, but Shannon noticed after a couple rounds that Kariel actually would try to set her top hand as high as possible while still making sure there would be no mis-set on her end. That annoyed Shannon to no end, actually.

Because that was how Shannon would have arranged her hand, too.

For the first time ever since Shannon started her Vegas trip, she had met someone who she could consider a worthy opponent. If Shannon Callaghan was Dublin’s Ace, then Kariel Leung would be the Ace of Macau.

As much as Shannon hated to admit, Kariel did give her a run for her money, fair and square.

It would make sense, though. This girl had literally grown up in casinos all her life.

As Shannon turned over the last card dealt to her, her eyes almost widened at the hand she had, but her instincts immediately kicked in, and at the last second, she managed to hide her surprise behind the usual poker face that had marched her victory so many times before.

Kariel’s face was also expressionless. She gave nothing away. When it was time for the hand reveal, she gave the dealer a nod.

“Natural.”

Shannon kept her mouth tight as Kariel’s hand gracefully dropped on the table. Pair of tens, pair of nines, pair of eights, pair of sevens, pair of six’s, pair of fives and a random number card that didn’t really matter anymore–

“Six and a half pairs,” the dealer called.

That would be a whopping six points for Kariel. She would win six times the amount she had bet for that round, if Shannon didn’t have anything better to beat that hand.

Shannon tried her very best to maintain her perfect poker face. She had to keep up the show, until the very end.

It’d be worth it.

“Natural.”

Kariel raised an eyebrow, but in amusement rather than annoyance that Shannon also was declaring a natural hand. Nonetheless, the girl kept herself cool and composed.

Shannon didn’t blame her, actually. Six and a half pairs wouldn’t be the lowest of the natural hands.

But it would be lower than an–

“All Broadway.”

It took Shannon all of her self-restraint and then some to keep a victorious smirk from stretching across her face as her hand dropped.

Four aces, two kings, three queens, four jacks. A whopping thirty-two points.

That would be three hundred and twenty thousand dollars that Shannon had won. Lady Luck was on her side tonight.

“Congratulations,” Kariel smiled, and much to Shannon’s surprise, there wasn’t even an ounce of sarcasm or malice dripping in the girl’s melodious voice, “You’ve beaten me, fair and square.”

But Shannon knew it was just sheer, dumb luck–

“Don’t worry, really,” Kariel stood up, motioning for the dealer that she would like to close the table, “It’s just pocket change for me. Pretty refreshing to see a showdown of pure luck, actually.”

It was indeed a showdown of pure luck. A natural hand was never to be played. It was given. Nobody would know when they were getting one. Nobody would know if they were the only one with a natural hand at the table, or if their natural hand would be the highest in the game.

And so, the third thing Shannon had learned tonight was that anything could happen even in a game of skills. In the case of a natural hand showdown, nobody could play their way to the top. Lady Luck would be the one deciding who would rise and who would fall.

And that got Shannon thinking, maybe, just maybe, the whole debacle with Ibrahim and Jo was a case of luck, rather than who the better player was, after all.

But for tonight, she’d rather not think about Ibrahim. Luck or not, he had still done her so dirty with his reluctance to be honest and upfront with her. He did not deserve to occupy her mind right now. She was having a good time in Vegas, and she intended to keep it that way.

“Hey,” The Macanese heiress sauntered towards Shannon and stretched out a hand towards her with a bright smile, “I like you, Shannon. I want to get acquainted with you.”

Shannon blinked once, twice, but nonetheless took Kariel’s hand, and silently gasped at the electric feeling of the heiress’s slender fingers sensually slipping in between her larger ones.

“Let’s head to the VIP lounge. Just you and me. I’m itching to crack open my D’Amalfi Supreme. That shit’s been collecting dust in the cabinet, and I don’t want to just let twenty-seven million dollars worth of good shit go to waste like that. You seem cool. I wanna share this with you.”

Kariel grinned playfully and squeezed Shannon’s hand.

But in all honesty, even a pro poker player like Shannon was having trouble processing the information that the heiress had just casually dropped.

Twenty-seven bloody million dollars for a bottle of Limoncello.

Just how fucking loaded was this girl’s family?

—

“Fuck Ibrahim. Fuck Jo. Fuck the both of them, really.”

Shannon had no idea how many fucking shots she had taken or how many different kinds of liqueur including that very expensive Limoncello in a diamond-embellished bottle she had thrown back in the past hour ever since she let Kariel lead her into the exclusive VIP lounge at the back of the casino. Her head was spinning. Her hair was tousled. Her lipstick smeared and her mascara was running. She was a total mess, emotional and drunk. A stark contrast from her usual cool, calm and collected demeanour.

Kariel offered her a sympathetic side hug, squeezing her tight against the heiress’s petite frame. Shannon was grateful that at the very least, there was someone listening and understanding her. As much as she had been doing her best to keep her cool and move on from the clownery she found herself in on Love Island, it had been bothering her a great deal in the past three years.

It didn’t help that Shannon had been bottling all this bitterness up inside of her all this time, too.

Especially when she couldn’t help but wonder if she was lowkey being body-shamed by Ibrahim, because it was really hard not to see her, a big girl, being cast aside for a girl with a banging bod like Jo, as anything else.

Shannon had been telling herself that confidence was the most powerful weapon she could wield, and pretending to keep that confidence intact was a close second. Nobody would know how insecure this entire Ibrahim fiasco had made her become and how fucked up her mind had been ever since she was dumped from the villa. Nobody would know.

Nobody, except, for some reason, Kariel Leung.

“Honestly, to hell with them and their obsession for fitness. They didn’t even last that long after the show,” Kariel scoffed, “Good riddance, really. He dropped a beauty with an actual brain for some airhead liar.”

Shannon froze. Being called a beauty was the last thing she would expect to hear from anyone. Especially from the epitome of beauty herself.

Shannon would be lying if she said she wasn’t attracted to the Macanese heiress who had both riled her up and been a friend to her, even a little bit. Which was an unfamiliar feeling because she had only ever been with men before.

In all honesty, she wouldn’t be opposed to getting herself tangled up with a woman.

Shannon felt her heart thump hard and fast against her ribcage as Kariel scooted closer and closer, and soon, the heiress’s face was only mere inches away from hers.

“Fuck, Shannon, you’re beautiful. Never forget that.”

A slew of emotions Shannon had never experienced before washed over her as Kariel leaned in to press her soft lips against Shannon’s plump ones, then threaded her slender fingers into Shannon’s tousled fiery curls and parted Shannon’s mouth gently with her tongue.

Shannon gasped. Kariel took the opportunity to slide her tongue in to caress the inside of her mouth.

All these feelings were just so new to Shannon. So unfamiliar. So nerve-racking. Yet at the same time so intoxicating and leaving her wanting more.

So Shannon wound her arms around the Macanese heiress’s waists, pulled the girl flushed against her voluptuous breasts, and moved her mouth to kiss her back.

Fuck–

Shannon could feel Kariel smirk against her lips. Much to her disappointment, though, the heiress pulled away after a moment.

But what Kariel said next set Shannon ablaze with desire.

“How far do you want to take this tonight, gorgeous?”

The Macanese’s lips ghosted against Shannon’s lips. Her warm breath sent a jolt straight down Shannon’s spine, and almost instantly, Shannon felt a warm wet patch begin to form on her knickers.

She wanted this. She needed this.

She needed Kariel.

“How far are you willing to go, Kariel?”

The heiress grinned against Shannon’s mouth after swiping her wicked tongue across Shannon’s lips, “However far you’re willing to go, sexy.”

That was more than enough for Shannon to let go of the last of her restraint and shamelessly grabbed onto Kariel’s hands and guided them to slip into the deep V neck of her dress to fondle her tits.

“I want to go all the way.”

Kariel pulled back, her eyes lit up happily as if she was a kid in a candy shop, her hands continued to gently squeeze around the softness of Shannon’s mounds, occasionally brushing her thumbs over the hardening nipples. Shannon gasped at the sensation, but before her gasp could even fully form, Kariel had already captured her mouth into another searing kiss, while at the same time slithered her hand onto Shannon’s back and toyed with the zipper of her gown.

In a minute, Shannon’s gown pooled around her ankles, and soon, so did Kariel’s. Before long, both women were stripped down to their underwear, and Shannon was glad that she had decided to go braless for the night.

But Kariel— Fuck, Kariel was the very definition of sex on legs in sheer black lace lingerie while keeping her black Louboutin stilettos on.

The heiress gave Shannon a seductive smirk, then pushed Shannon down the plush sofa and without hesitation, latched her mouth onto one of Shannon’s hard nipples while trailing one hand down the valley of Shannon’s huge tits, past her soft belly, then dipping into Shannon’s knicker to playfully flicker her thin fingers along the slick, soaking slit of Shannon’s dripping cunt.

“You’re happy to see me in a teddy,” Kariel released Shannon’s nipple with a pop, then bent down and suck hard on the other nipple and trailed her tongue down, down, down—

A loud moan escaped Shannon’s mouth as the heiress brushed Shannon’s knickers to the side and swiped her tongue along Shannon’s cunt, but not before giving her clit a sounding suck and a cheeky, gentle bite.

“And you taste as delicious as you look. Gosh, I’ve been wanting to have some hot as shit sex with you ever since I saw you breaking down the old geezers on the floor, baby girl.”

Shannon could honestly get used to this. Being eaten out by another woman was something that was amazing beyond imagination, she realised.

She couldn’t care any less how increasingly loud her moans had become by now.

Everything then went by in a blur.

Shannon tried to burn the feelings into every cell of her skin.

Kariel tasted fucking divine when Shannon returned the favour by sucking and lapping at the heiress’s equally as wet cunt.

And the scissoring, bloody hell, the scissoring was just out of this world. The sloppy wet sound of clit rubbing against clit was one Shannon found incredibly lustful, and that kept her going for more. Every buck of her hips, ever flicker of her tongue against Kariel’s, every squeeze of her hands on Kariel’s small but perky tits, every soft pinch of Kariel’s dainty fingers on her nipples— Shannon slowly slipped further and further into the quicksand of immense pleasure and euphoria.

Shannon lost count of how many times she had come that night having sex with Kariel. But one thing she knew for sure, was that she had thoroughly enjoyed the entire experience, and realised that perhaps this would be something that she’d really be into, after all.

Kariel gave Shannon a loud, sloppy kiss on the mouth as both women hastily pulled their dresses back on, but neither of them wanted the night to end there.

Picking up a bottle of tequila, Kariel took a long swig, then handed it to Shannon, who then took a long swig as well. Both women were still so bloody drunk, even after all that iron-pumping sex they just had with one another.

“Hey, I got an idea,” Kariel slinged an arm around Shannon’s shoulder, “Let’s do one of those Elvis weddings together. I heard those are fuuuuuuunnnnnn— Oh! After that, let’s take my private jet back to Macau. Let’s team up tomorrow and take my dad’s friends’ money at the casino over there!”

Shannon honestly was too high in the clouds to even stop for a second and realise that this was all so messy and would get her into a mess that would be so hard to get out of—

“What the hell? I’m in!”

—

“Fuck, Shannon, fuck—

“Kariel… Kari— oh, yes, please. Harder.”

Apparently, Shannon never realised how into being pegged by a woman with a double-ended dildo she would be, until Kariel fucked the both of them with a double-ended dildo in the gigantic bedroom of the heiress’s mansion the moment they both landed in Macau after being married by an Elvis Presley impersonator in Vegas just hours before.

Kariel even got each of them a ring that was at least twenty thousand dollars, too.

Shannon ended up cumming for the however-many-times-it-was-oh-gods-she-definitely-lost-count’th time when Kariel pulled her into a sixty-nine and fingered and ate her swollen cunt out as Shannon herself buried her face deep into Kariel’s equally as swollen cunt.

—

“So…”

“Yep,” Kariel laughed, “Wild night, wasn’t it? We slept in for almost an entire day actually.”

Shannon just wanted the water in the bathtub to swallow her whole. This was so fucking embarrassing. Not only did she get so drunk her brain was gone, but she also had had wild sex multiple times with the same woman who was now taking care of her through her hangover, and mindlessly got herself into a fucking marriage with said woman.

Not to mention it was a wedding officiated by some rando in an Elvis Presley costume.

“I’m so sorry,” Shannon sighed, “Fuck I didn’t think I’d get this fucked up—

“It’s alright, lovely,” Kariel grabbed her hand and gently squeezed in reassurance, “I quite enjoyed it. It was a very good experience, actually.”

Shannon would be damned if she said she didn’t thoroughly enjoy it too.

“But Kariel, we barely even know each other and we’re now married for fuck’s sake—

The realisation that Kariel’s rich and powerful father would soon be on Shannon’s arse for this was not helping, too, at all.

“Oh, that,” Kariel shook her head with a smile, “It was never legally binding. We never signed a license, so technically, we’re not married in the eye of the law. I was just playing earlier. The ring was just for show.”

Oh.

Shannon supposed that was one problem solved.

But then she realised that she was in bloody Macau, in bloody Asia. An entire day of flying away from either Las Vegas or her home in Dublin.

And all her luggage was still in Nevada.

And she probably had missed her flight back to Dublin, too.

“Oh shi—

“Don’t worry,” Kariel smiled sadly, “I get it. I’ll have my private jet fly you back to Dublin and the hotel staff pack up and ship your luggage to your home.”

Shannon breathed a sigh of relief, “Thank you.”

Yet why, just why did she feel a little bit sad just now at the thought of probably never seeing Kariel again once she landed back in Dublin?

But to her pleasant surprise, Kariel suddenly went silent, as if finding the right words to say, before taking a deep breath and asked, her eyes twinkling hopefully.

“Shannon, I know we’ve just met and somehow we did some mad crazy shit the night before. But I mean it when I said I really liked you, and that you’re really beautiful and I’m attracted to you. So if you’d like, and only if you’d like, I could arrange for you to stay a few more days so you and I can fuck with the old sexist men on the casino floor, and just sorta get to know one another and enjoy an impromptu vacation. I’ll show you around and we can go anywhere you want. Who knows what the future holds, but at the very least, I want to make a friend out of you. No games. If things do end up going further, we’ll cross that bridge when we get there. What do you say?”

The pre-Vegas Shannon would’ve run for the hills. But that Shannon was gone. The post-Vegas Shannon right now had learned that sometimes letting loose and leaving things up to fate would be the best thing to do, especially after having had to bottle everything up inside for so long and put on a charade that she had to be cool, calm and composed all the time.

Besides, she was curious to see how this would unfold. She liked Kariel. If not as a lover, then as a really cool friend who would conspire with her to knock old, opinionated men off their high horse. Her favourite sport to play.

And if Lady Luck decided to grace her once more, then maybe she could have that legendary sex she had just had the night before again, too.

I really appreciate that y'all are sending me these asks. Particularly as so many of them have mentioned that they feel that my blog is a safe space for POC. I cannot express how much that means to me. Thank you. I'm doing my best.

After this post, I will not answer, acknowledge, or in any way interact with any asks that compare Suresh to Harvey Weinstein, Andrew Tate, or any of the other real-life sexual predators & abusers he's been compared to, even if it's to defend him. While I appreciate y'all bringing it to my attention, it's just exacerbating it, and I'm not giving it a platform after this post.

I am not an expert in talking about race, nor am I an expert in writing POC. I'm not a POC, nor have I ever claimed to be. I just don't believe in putting discussions like this in the too-hard basket, and pretending they doesn't exist because it's a hard conversation to have. My willingness to have these discussions is not 'bandwagoning', or at least, it's not intended to be. I don't have the world's largest platform, but I have a small soapbox and I'm going to use it properly.

I'm also going to put a disclaimer here and say that this is only an opinion, and an uninformed one at that. I don't work for Fusebox, I don't have a degree in marketing or digital engagement, but I have done some work in User Experience and my degree's partly in Cultural Anthropology, so I know a little bit about human behaviour and the way we engage with online media.

Again, not an expert. Just cynical and sick of the debate.

So here's the sitch.

They wrote Suresh to be a toxic, pushy asshole on purpose.

His behaviour, in some areas, is not great. The gaslighting, the manipulation, implying he used to trick her into sleeping with him. Many people, including myself, have been in emotionally abusive relationships with people who are like this. It's not nice. It's certainly not entertainment.

But you cannot sit there and tell me that this script did not go through multiple rounds of revisions. You think this wasn't brought up at Fusebox HQ? I can absolutely guarantee you that it was.

So why on earth would writers write him this way?

Because it gets you talking about the game.

Ever heard of the phrase 'Any publicity is good publicity'?

There are 1000+ LITG Fanfictions on Ao3. Guess which season has the fewest fanfics? Season 3. Often casually referred to as 'The Disney Season'. The only drama during that season was Ciaran/Tai/Yasmin picking MC, and/or Rafi/Lily flirting heavily with MC. Feel free to tell me I'm wrong, but overwhelmingly, it was a very sweet season with generally likeable and unique characters.

Season 2 had so, so many characters with different backstories, interests, motivations, etc. that it was hard to find someone who didn't like one of them at least a little. And people engaged so much with that content. Just based off the fanfiction numbers (because I don't have any official stats) at least 75% of the LITG FF content is for Season 2.

But here's the thing: It's far easier to make people angry than it is to make them fall in love.

What is the one thing almost everyone spent gems on during Bombshell? Telling off Juliet. It's basic engagement principle that people are going to be more engaged when they're emotionally invested in a piece of media. It's why clickbait exists. It's why internet trolls exist, for fuck's sake.

So why on earth would they bother spending the extra time in developing complex, multifaceted characters, when as a fandom, we've made it perfectly clear that we'll spend more money, more time, and more brain space into tearing apart characters we hate, rather than doing the same for characters we love?

Fusebox are a business. They do not care if the game offends you. What they do care about are those sweet, sweet advertising dollars. And if they can show a reddit sub with thousands upon thousands of eyes on it, all ranting and raving about Suresh, they can absolutely turn to an advertiser and say "Yo, look at our engagement levels!"

This is just capitalism. It's business. If they take it too far on a TV show, advertisers will start pulling out. But advertisers only pull out when there's an actual, honest-to-god backlash. And most of the advertising (in my LITG2 app at least) isn't for products or companies with a reputation. It's for other games. Meaning that, realistically, if you did want to complain to an advertiser about the game being racist, sexist, misogynistic who are you going to complain to? Apple? The fuck do they care? They haven't broken any laws?

It's specifically designed to be controversial and problematic. That is the entire point. If this kind of thing triggers you, DNI.

Fusebox do not care about individuals' experiences.

A few people will be so triggered or turned off by the content that they'll leave. But enough of us stayed, engaged, and participated in the game to make it worth their while. So Fusebox just continues to exist in this sweet space, where they just insert more and more problematic characters, leading to higher and higher engagement. As long as they don't cross any hard lines, they can do it forever.

The inherent problem with this, is that a lot of people don't know when to stop.

And this is when it starts getting really fucking sad.

Y'all are taking a guy that's specifically designed to piss you off, and deciding he's an abuser, gaslighter, manipulator, etc. There are already so many stereotypes about South Asian men being pushy, or demanding, or that they don't respect women.

I've seen so, so many instances in the reddit sub, on facebook, and even in the official Discord server of language that tars all South Asian men as being this way. People saying, and I fucking quote, "I wouldn't mind it so much if it was Eddie". (Thanks, Reddit).

Firstly, there's a good reason that it's not Eddie. And that's because, as demonstrated by the quote above, a lot of people would be far more willing to excuse this behaviour if it was coming from a pretty white boy.

So why is this?

Why do you think they made the manipulative, 'won't take no for an answer' man be from Southern Asia?

Why do you think they made Hope a sassy, determined black woman?

Why do you think they made Miki a quirky, shy, but nosy East Asian girl?

Even Lottie, who's a whiny little shit isn't from the UK.

This game is most popular in the UK. It's also popular elsewhere, but its main target audience is the UK. It's why most of the characters are from there, the script contains UK slang, etc.

It's so much easier to hate someone when they're not 'from here'.

Check out any American superhero movie. The villain is foreign. In Hollywood movies, they're British, French, Russian, Chinese, South American, Arabic, whatever. They're just foreign. Or different.

They're others.

Because it sells.

It's easier for you to team up with your mates on reddit and condemn Suresh for his behaviour than it is to do it to someone who looks like you.

But guess what?

There are people who play this game who are People of Colour.

(Shocking, I know. They enjoy playing games too!)

And whenever you buy into this bullshit that Fusebox is feeding you, whenever you pile on a character like Suresh, you are making them feel like they're not welcome here.

People of Colour are being used as a means to an end.

Instead of writing complex, multi-dimensional villains with real motivations, Fusebox are using basic clickbait to get you to engage.

And that's super fucking unfair.

I'm not telling you to do anything. I'm not telling you not to play. I'm not going to stop spending money on it. I'm certainly not going to stop.

I just want people to be aware of what they're doing.

Be aware of the fact that they're playing into your preconceived ideas of race, culture, and ethnicity.

Be aware of the fact that they are trying to you to engage at at all costs.

Be aware that your rabid fan-ness can actually spur others into a mob mentality.

Be aware of the fact that you're allowed to criticise characters. But criticise the writing. Criticise the business tactic.

Don't fall into the quicksand!

Don't let yourself make it about race. Stop letting others make it about race.

Stop engaging with it when it becomes about race.

Stop engaging when your friends compare him to Harvey Weinstein, Andrew Tate, Prince Andrew, etc. He's a character from a mobile game. They are real people who have hurt real women.

Show Fusebox you'll engage with the stuff you do like, as opposed to only engaging when it's piling on to a character.

Get rabid about the drama, not about the character.

And look, I'm writing this out in a long, one-shot rant, so I might've completely rambled, contradicted myself, or said something completely wrong, so please forgive me if I have.

I just hope this helped someone see it for what it is.

MARKETING.

So in conclusion:

Do: Make memes about Suresh not apologising.

Do: Hate him for cheating.

Do: Push him in the pool.

Do not: Compare him to a real life sex offender

Do not: Make it about race

A person would need twenty-one days to form a habit, and twenty-one days to break a habit. Therefore, three hundred and eighty-six days of being single should have been plenty enough for Tess to have healed from the heartbreak her first love had given her by deciding to drink his arse off after a fight then use that as an excuse to cheat on her, broken old habits she had formed while still being with him, and got into new, healthy ones after removing that cheating bastard from her life for good to start over again.

Things had been great. Things had been fine. Tess had even struck gold; she was approached at the hospital where she worked as a registered nurse out of all places by an ITV2 producer with an invitation to apply for the upcoming season of Love Island, which she accepted and got accepted in return.

The Mallorca villa was amazing. Dana and Kat couldn’t be more fun to hang out with, and Eddie and Alfie were both gorgeous and super into her. Tess was going to have the summer of her life.

But there was one problem. One huge problem, in the form of Suresh– the cheating bastard Tess had thought she would never have the displeasure of seeing again– waltzing straight into the villa with his eyes dead set on her and only her. On top of that, fate just had to mock her by guiding both Kat and Dana to thwart her attempt to get it on with Eddie who she had her eyes on at the beginning, and forced her into a couple with Suresh, who, by the way, she had just pushed into the pool the moment she realised it was really him in the villa this season. And that would mean for the next couple of nights, Tess would have to revisit an old habit she had tried so hard to successfully break in the past year. She would have to sleep in the same bed as Suresh again.

Suresh could sense her discomfort, however. Tess had to give him credits for not only grovelling to her like there was no tomorrow no matter how mean she had been to him, but also for offering to sleep on the daybed tonight.

Maybe he had finally lost a case and broken his winning streak in court, and that had taught him something, after all.

—

“Are you fucking for real?!”

Tess just couldn’t believe her luck. Her bad luck, actually.

Out of all days, it just had to be today that the rain  decided to fucking downpour and flood all over Mallorca, the villa included. And that meant Suresh would not be able to sleep outside on the daybeds. At all.

In all honesty, he could sleep on the sofa or in the dog house, too, but of fucking course, there was no dog house in this villa this season, and stupid, cocky Finn just had to show off his (in)ability to juggle sauce bottles while sitting on the sofa earlier that evening, therefore spilling all sorts of salty, sticky liquid all over the only other place except her bed that Suresh would be able to sleep in for tonight.

As much as Tess agreed with Dana that Suresh totally deserved to sleep in the thunderstorm outside, the nurse in her had said otherwise. With the sofa being dismantled for cleaning, she begrudgingly allowed Suresh into her bed for at least tonight, with a sturdy pillow wall in between them. It was the least she could do out of compassion for someone she had once shared a life with.

Someone she had once loved.

But that all-too-familiar cocky smile on Suresh’s face as he slid into the bed and blew her a kiss goodnight had just wiped off all of the little compassion Tess had left for him in the past five seconds, and she gave him a scowl in return before edging herself to her side of the bed and wrapping herself into the plush comforter. To make matters worse, unfortunately, her frigging period just had to fucking begin earlier that evening, and therefore, her lower abs began cramping violently the moment she turned her back to Suresh and forced herself to sleep with the sound of heavy rain battering the villa and Kat’s moans from probably being fingered by Alfie or something assaulting her ears.

Way to go. Living up to the Tess The Hot Mess ™ name, aren’t ya?

But then bad went to worse when a flash of white tore up the sky.

Even when her eyes were tightly shut, Tess could still see it. Her body instinctively tensed, then jolted the moment a loud shriek followed the electric light ripping through the dark, stormy skies.

Tess had always been terrified of thunder and lightning, and she knew that Suresh knew this too. But for tonight, just tonight, she could put on a brave face and act like she wasn’t scared anymore. The last thing she needed right now was Suresh’s protection from the big, bad thunderstorm. She absolutely did not need to be seen as a damsel in distress right now.

Her stomach cramped again and she was still scared shitless of the booming sky, but to her relief, Suresh appeared to have already fallen asleep on the other side of the pillow wall. She didn’t blame him, though. It had been an intense day, after all.

The cramping got more excruciating, the thunder got louder, but eventually, Tess managed to fall asleep, thanks to being worn out by the pain coming from within her.

Sleep, Theresa. Sleep. Tomorrow will treat you better. Tomorrow will be a new day.

—

Tess had a dream that night. A dream replaying a memory so vividly etched in her mind. A dream replaying a time when things were good. A dream replaying a time when Suresh had been an attentive, caring and loving boyfriend.

In her dream, she was ripping her hair out of her head the moment she got out of her shift at the hospital because stupid Karens in the admin office wouldn’t let her do her job in peace, as always. Worse, they were the entire reason why she had to stay back late past midnight, which ended up being the reason why she had to literally run for her life the moment she got off the last bus of the night to make it home before the forecasted thunderstorm happened.

And to make it all worse, her fucking period just had to start and give her hell as she was racing the weather home, too.

She didn’t make it.

As soon as she reached the last block right around the corner, the sky dumped rain on her. Then a lightning bolt struck, followed by the explosive sounds of thunder growling in the dark sky.

Her feet went numb. Her knees trembled, and so did her hands, then her entire body. But she had to power through. She had to get home. She had to get back to where she was the safest– in the arms of the love of her life.

Her screams drowned when another jolt of electricity ripped and her lungs began hyperventilating, but when she closed her eyes and thought of Suresh, probably worried sick that it was almost one in the morning and she wasn’t home yet, her muscles strained. She made a run for it as fast as she possibly could with her entire body shaking, and after one hundred and twenty seconds that felt like a millennium, she was finally in front of the door leading to home.

As soon as her hand shakily touched the door knob, the door immediately flew open.

It was Suresh by the doorframe, his slacks, shirt and shoes hastily thrown on, an umbrella in his hand and panic written all over his face, ready to rush out there to find her and bring her home because he knew how much the storm would scare the shit out of her.

As soon as his eyes fell upon her, drenched and shaking and hyperventilating, he pulled her inside, engulfed her into a tight, warm embrace without a word, ignoring the way her wet scrub began to soak into his shirt. He then rubbed circles on her back with one hand and tucked her head right underneath his chin, closing and locking the door with his other, then gently pressed a kiss onto her forehead and squeezed her tight against his much larger frame.

“It’s alright, love,” he whispered into her ear, “You’re home. You’re safe. I’m here.”

And yet, Tess couldn’t stop shaking. From the cold, and from the residual fear of the angry storm. Then the cramping just had to start again and sent her arms tightly clutched around her stomach while she writhed in pain.

Suresh’s eyes softened. He immediately knew what was going on, and therefore, promptly led Tess into their bathroom and ran a hot bath for her, then carefully peeled her wet and probably disgusting nurse scrub off her body because he knew her hands were trembling too much right now to do it herself. After easing her into the bath, he rushed to fetch her painkillers, her favourite fluffy pyjamas and a heat pack, then sat by her side the entire time and helped wash her hair.

When she was done freshening up and taking her painkillers, he fixed her a steaming cup of dried rose tea, knowing how much she loved that it helped ease her headache from a long day at work. He then laid down a towel on their bed and princess-carried her there, before getting the weighted blanket he had got for her the day she moved in out of the wardrobe to gently put on her so she could cuddle up under the comfortable pressure and stay warm.

After that, he would slide in bed next to her and wrap his arms around her protectively, tucking her head into his strong, muscled chest to shield her from the roaring thunder and lightning tearing the sky above.

“Sleep tight, love,” he whispered, his hand gently stroking her hair, lulling her to sleep, “You had a long day. Let me take care of you.”

A bolt of lightning struck and Tess jumped a little, but she knew she was safe under the comfortable weight of the heavy blanket and in the arms of the love of her life.

—

Suresh had once been a sweetheart, and Tess had once loved him wholeheartedly for that. But that Suresh was long gone, and in his place was a deceptive, cocky and unfaithful man.

Deep down, Tess knew she was still, in a way, in love with Suresh. After all, he was her first kiss and first everything. He was her first love, before he ruined it all himself and shattered everything they had built together in one moment of faltering, as if her love for him wasn’t strong enough for him to stay faithful to her.

The knowledge that she wasn’t good enough was the ultimate blow.

She had come to accept that she could only see the Suresh she was in love with again in her dreams.

And she couldn’t dream forever.

Eventually, she would have to wake up.

—

Tess’s eyes were forced open from her comfy sleep when a flash of pain ripped through her lower abs, sending her body curling and her arms reflexively around her waists.

Goddamnit! I was so comfy under my weighted blanket–

But there was no weighted blanket in the Love Island villa, and the only weighted blanket she had ever had was left collecting dust in the corner of Suresh’s closet in Edinburgh because she refused to take anything he had got for her when she left him.

And also, her arms couldn’t move. Something was in their way.

Wait a second–

Apparently, her arms were trapped in front of her chest. Or rather, in between her chest and the toned six-pack abs right underneath an all-too-familiar chiselled chest with a light, soft coating of dark hair.

Once the pain from the cramping had subsided a little, realisation dawned on her and she gasped audibly, immediately pushing the muscular chest away from her with all the strength she could muster, only to register in her head that apparently, her entire head and torso had been encased protectively in a pair of strong arms around her back and waists.

The hell? Where’s the pillow wall–

Eyes squinting to adjust to the glaring light, Tess began to kick her legs back and forth to get a feel of what had become of her bed now, and to her horror, the fluffy makeshift barrier she had put up the night before had somehow already ended up at her feet.

Oh fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fu–

How the fuck did this–

How–

“Hey.”

Tess felt a soft, gentle rumble against her cheek and her tired and twice-fried brain from the day before instantly short-circuited.

You really are Tess The Hot Mess ™, aren’t you?

“Hope you slept alright,” Suresh murmured as his eyes slowly opened and his arms slowly slackened around her waists, “Iove–

“Don’t,” Tess growled irritatedly in response, “Just don’t.”

It took Tess all of her willpower to send Suresh a cold, hard glare, because she absolutely couldn’t let him do this to her again. Calling her “love” only to play games shortly after. Clowning her, that was.

Yet, as much as Tess had been resenting Suresh for obvious reasons, she had also been battling herself inside since the moment he came back into her life as a fellow islander on the show, and right now, her somehow ending up snuggling him in her sleep was not helping at all. Tess, in fact, had missed the way he called her “love” first thing every morning when she woke up in his arms. She had missed how sweet the sound of his voice was when the loving nickname rolled on his tongue. She had missed the warmth of his body next to her.

She had missed the Suresh she had just seen again in her dream last night.

Suresh raised an eyebrow at her, concern written all over the crease on his forehead, and Tess felt her heart wrench.

She saw a glimpse of sadness and longing shining in his bright green eyes.

But Suresh didn’t say anything else. Instead, he delicately extracted himself from the cuddle, then rolled himself out of bed and exited the bedroom.

Suresh. Don’t play games with me.

As much as Tess repeatedly told herself in her head that she was a strong, independent woman and she would be better off without Suresh, she couldn’t help but feel a pang of pain stabbing her heart as the man she had once loved left her alone in the big, empty bedroom.

The first cut was the deepest because at one point, he was not only the first, but also the only man for her. The only man she had given her heart to, and the only man she had seen a future with. And he had just left her there hanging, after letting her snuggle up with him in her sleep out of old habits that she thought she had forgotten.

Turned out, three hundred and eighty-six days of being single were not enough for Tess to forget the habits she had picked up when she was still all loved up by Suresh’s side.

With a sigh, she shook her head and hugged her stomach to brace for another wave of painful cramps, but froze at the feeling of something fluffy and soft under her thighs.

A towel? Wait–

All the air was instantly sucked out of Tess’s lungs as she sat up to look down her thighs and found out that indeed, there was a towel carefully laid underneath her, albeit a little to the side. Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw it: on her bedside table, next to her water bottle, a small bottle of Tylenol.

Tess felt her heart stop. There was only one other person in the villa other than Tess herself who would know that she could only take Tylenol for painkillers due to her anaemic conditions because Advil or Alleve would thin her blood to dangerous levels during her period.

And that person was Suresh.

Who, by the way, had just returned to the bedroom, a heat pack in one hand and a steaming cuppa in the other.

Tess caught a waft of rose scent when Suresh set the cuppa down by her bedside and tentatively sat on the bed, an arm length away from her, then carefully placed the heat pack in her lap. She could only stare blankly at him.

“I… brought your favourite rose tea with me when I came in here,” Suresh smiled, “I hope that this is the one thing that hasn’t changed since you left.”

Resh…

Tess kicked herself internally the moment his old nickname resurfaced in her mind, but nonetheless, still reached for the tea and allowed herself a second to enjoy the calmness from the steaming rose scent. She then took a small sip, relishing in the familiar gentle taste of warm green tea and rose petals mingling on her tongue.

It was the taste of home.

Every single vein in her body was set ablaze.

Maybe, just maybe, Suresh had told her the truth that he had learned and grown. And maybe, just maybe, Tess had never truly wanted to let him go.

The Suresh that she had been in love with perhaps was still there, hidden behind those bright green eyes looking at her with a warm fondness, lovingly.

“You still toss and turn a lot in your sleep whenever it’s raining cats and dogs outside.”

Suresh’s mouth twitched into a half smile, but for some reason, it didn’t seem cocky or even remotely malicious at all. Tess gave him a half smile back.

“Especially whenever it’s raining cats and dogs outside and you’re at that time of the month,” he chuckled, “Whenever that happens, you’d be an absolute wreck and kicking in your sleep while clutching onto your stomach for dear life because of how painful it is. In all honesty, I wish I could take some of it in your place because I couldn’t bear to see you writhe in pain, love.”

There it was. He had just called her “love” again. Seemed like three hundred and eighty-six days weren’t enough for him to break away from that habit either.

But this time, Tess didn’t stop him.

Suresh smiled warmly at her. She felt a familiar feeling tugging at her heart– the same feeling she had once had when he had first asked her out on a date and kneeled in front of her without hesitation to tie her undone shoelaces for her.

“I do have to apologise, though,” Suresh sighed, “I told you last night I’d give you space, but when you literally were thrashing in your sleep and kicking down the pillow fort when the lightning struck outside–

“You cuddled me,” Tess finished for him.

Suresh nodded, then looked down, “Yeah.”

—

Even when Tess had been a massive bitch to Suresh since he saw her again, he was still grateful to be graced with her presence when he stepped foot into the Love Island villa. Even when she had pushed him into the pool with all her might the moment she saw him, he was still grateful to get to feel the tingling heat of her skin on his even just for half a second before he was plunged into the cold water. Even when she had been more than unhappy to allow him into her bed because of the thunderstorm outside and put up a pillow wall between them, he was still grateful to be closer to her than he had ever been in the past year and then some.

Speaking of the thunderstorm, Suresh couldn’t help but wonder how Tess had been faring on her own in the past year without him and the weighted blanket she had left him with when she moved out.

She had always been terrified of thunder and lightning.

Yet, his Tess had always been resourceful and strong even in the face of her fears, and the most solid proof validating it for him was that she had put on a brave face and without a word turned her back to him to force herself to sleep, probably thinking that he had fallen asleep himself already. But Suresh had been awake the whole time, albeit choosing to stay still and keep quiet out of respect for her space. He couldn’t sleep. He hadn’t been able to sleep well for a single night since she walked out of his flat and out of his life.

And he would never forgive himself for what he had done that had caused the love of his life to leave him with wounds in her heart and scars in her soul.

He would spend however many lifetimes he would have to spend to make it up for her.

Every passing moment, the roaring thunder and shrieking lightning outside got louder and louder. Every passing moment, the storm brewing inside of Suresh grew stronger and stronger. 

And then he felt it. The mattress dipped. Tess was beginning to toss and turn in her sleep, just like she always had whenever it poured outside, and Suresh honestly just wanted to turn around to pull her into his arms and tuck her head in his chest to protect her from the loud booms and bangs from the sky outside, just like how he used to when things had been good between them.

Yet, he still commanded every single ounce of his willpower to keep him in one place, for the sake of his promise to respect Tess’s space, as much as it physically pained him. He couldn’t afford to break another promise to her again, after breaking the promise of being faithful to her and only her a year or so ago.

But then, he felt a kick on his back. Then another. Then an all-too-familiar whimper he had grown to love since forever.

Tess was starting to lose it, and therefore, began thrashing. To Suresh’s horror, only mere minutes after her convulsing in her sleep, the pillow wall separating her and him had effectively been kicked down by those slender legs that he had missed wrapping around his waists–

Suresh, don’t. You don’t get to think about that anymore after betraying her and blaming it on the alcohol to make shitty excuses for your wrongdoing.

But then the unimaginable that Suresh could only dare dream of happened: Tess had somehow rolled over closer to his side of the bed and grabbed onto his shoulder, pulling him towards her, and when he instinctively turned around to see what was happening, she instantly wiggled herself closer to him and straight into his chest.

“Suresh…”

There it was, the whimper that Suresh had missed hearing in the past year.

Tess’s eyes were still tightly shut, but she still jumped a little when a loud shriek ripped through the sky again. And then Suresh saw it: her arms tightly winding around her stomach after her body jolted, her knees reflexively jerking and her face contorting uncomfortably.

As if she was in pain.

Then to his shock, Tess grabbed onto his hand by the wrist, placed it on her lower abs and moved his palm in circles against the thin red silk of her pyjamas, then threw his entire arm around her waist and snuggled closer to him.

He mentally scolded himself for instinctively tightening his arm around her right after that.

“The cramping hurts, Resh.”

She whimpered again, and it hit him.

It was that time of the month.

The first thought that popped up in Suresh’s mind was that he needed to take care of her, and therefore, before he could stop himself, he got up from the plush bed he and Tess were in and rolled out of it to do so. 

Out of old habits that he wasn’t capable of letting go.

Before he could even take another step away from the bed to head to the bathroom, though, Tess grabbed onto his wrist again.

“Stay with me,” she mumbled, eyes still tightly closed.

Suresh felt his heart clench. And then, warm. It felt as if he had never cheated, and they had never broken up at all.

With a soft, wistful smile, he slid his wrist away from her grasp to let his fingers lace into hers, even just for one second, then squeezed her hand.

“I’ll come back to you, love. I promise I’ll come back.”

She let go of his hand. He tried to navigate himself in the dark as quickly as possible to get to the bathroom where all the towels and the first-aid cabinet was, so he could fetch her a towel and painkillers that he prayed would be anything other than ibuprofen or naproxen.

He sighed in relief when his blurry vision spotted a bottle of Tylenol, after gathering a thick towel and a handful of tampons in his hands.

When he returned to the bedroom, the thunderstorm was still raging on and Tess was still jolting every now and then whenever there was a loud bang from outside. After carefully placing the Tylenol by her bedside, next to her water bottle, he gently laid the towel down on the bed as close to Tess as possible, then quietly slipped under the cover by the edge of his side of the bed to force himself to sleep again.

But then, a deafening zap ripped through the battalion of rain, sending Tess thrashing again.

Suresh had known her enough to realise that even when she had been sleeping, she was not having a good sleep at all. The storm didn’t seem to be ending any time soon, and that would mean Tess would not be able to sleep in peace any time soon, either.

So Suresh did the one thing he could do to keep her calm while reciting in his head his apologies for having had to break his promise to keep a distance from her for the millionth time: he pulled her into a protective embrace, winding his arms around her back and waist and tucking her head safely into his chest, resting underneath his chin. Instantly, Tess relaxed and nuzzled against his warm skin, completely unaware of how fast and hard his heart had begun thumping against his ribcage as she did so.

He would’ve put a weighted blanket on her like he used to, but there was no such thing in the villa. So he settled for becoming the weighted blanket himself to keep her safe and warm.

The storm raged on, but the slow rhythmic rise and fall of her chest told him that she had calmed in the familiar comfort of his body heat and his arms.

For the first time in a very long time, Suresh felt calm, too.

“Sleep tight, love,” he murmured into her hair as his eyelids grew heavy and sleep began to overtake him, “You had a long day. Let me take care of you.”

—

Tess felt a tug on her heart again. Even in the dead of the night, Suresh still somehow managed to identify her problems and do the things he used to do to take care of her even when he could barely see anything at all. As if they had already become his instincts.

Habits.

“I don’t mind.”

Suresh raised his head, then his eyebrows in surprise. Tess blinked at him.

“What else could you have possibly done to get me to actually sleep in peace and stop kicking you?”

A moment passed. Then Suresh chuckled, and Tess found herself chuckling along, too.

“That is absolutely true, Theresa Nguyen,” Suresh clapped his knees, “In fact, there was nothing else anyone could’ve done either.”

“There you go, Resh,” Tess snickered at the way Suresh had just casually dropped her full name as he spoke, “You did the only thing you could’ve done to calm me down.”

Odd enough, for the past ten minutes Tess had been talking with Suresh, she had completely forgotten the pain simmering inside of her lower stomach this whole time. She supposed she should take those Tylenols and change her tampon, then get ready for the day, though.

“Suresh… Thank you.”

“Anything for you, love.”

The smouldering smile Suresh gave her before letting her go to the bathroom got her heart beat a little bit faster the same way it had when she first saw it on the day he asked her out two years and then some ago.

As Tess swallowed down the Tylenol Suresh got for her, probably from the first aid cabinet he basically sleep-walked to last night, she couldn’t help but let her mind wander to the possibility of giving Suresh a chance to make amends with her and give their relationship another go again.

Deep down, there were still many things unsaid and many explanations unheard between them. Deep down, she still loved him, or at least, the him of when things were good, the him that she had seen in her dream the night before.

But the towel underneath her on the bed, the Tylenol bottle by her bedside, the steaming cup of her favourite rose tea– all of the attentive care Suresh had lovingly given her in her dream down the memory lane did indeed happen when she was both asleep and wide awake in reality, too. And with Suresh’s confession just earlier, Tess realised that when he pulled her into his embrace and cuddled her to shield her from the flashing lightning in her dream last night, it actually wasn’t a dream.

It would take the both of them a lifetime to let go of habits that perhaps they never even wanted to let go to begin with.