#((c: the times come to play (william))

[unproduciblesmackdown]

oh yeah the way mass effect made me think of portal which is surely what youtube was doing too in sliding me a portal related video which made me think of like ah yes that little harmonizing thing want you gone credits song does, another banger. then i was like wait speaking of secret losersongs filmed rehearsal videos just the other day was reexperiencing like code monkey's really a banger as well, the way that part of the chorus could have one line end on One Pitch then the next line end a half step up but Doesn't & that pwns actually. then going hang on and they're both jonathan coulton. they're All jonathan coulton (adding in: wow just like will putting still alive on his off the shits jared kleinman a.m. pump up playlist)

[mariocki]

Night Key (1937)

"Now, listen, Steve. Twenty years ago you robbed me of the patent rights of the system that you're now using. Perhaps there was some excuse for that: because it gave you wealth, success, position, all the things that tempt one man to rob another. But now that you have everything and I have nothing, what possible reason is there for you to do this to me again?"

[pixlokita]

Painful wing fanart incoming but you already knew about it and colored it so like -w- hiding it for the gore and blood tho >>

I feel like it was less gory in black and white but honestly 👀✨ aight don’t mind me I’m going to the tag now

BEHOLD!!! AN ART TRADE!!! @pixlokita it is time!

Caution, do not click read more if you do not intend to read. This is 12,192 words. And no, I'm not kidding. This is so much longer than most of the stuff I write. That being said, enjoy!!!

Evan said Michael was sick, which worried Jeremy. Being sick should not mean Michael would try so hard to avoid Jeremy, especially since he knew it would make Jeremy worry about him more.

But the main part Jeremy was worried about was the way Evan’s new wings kept fluffing up. Was Michael mad at him?

Don’t worry about it, Jeremy, he told himself. If Michael’s mad, he’ll tell you eventually.

It just stung. Evan and Gregory were wandering around the house, trying to see if their wings would allow them to do various things. Evan’s were too small to do much, and Gregory still hadn’t gotten used to them yet, but at least they had something to do while Mr. Emily tried to figure out what could possibly cause this.

“Ugh!” Gregory exclaimed, plopping down on the sofa next to Jeremy. He took the soda from Jeremy’s hand and took a giant sip. “These things suck.”

“What do you mean?” Jeremy asked, unsuccessfully trying to retrieve his Coke.

“I mean,” Gregory scowled, taking another sip, “that wings are stupid. They don’t even bend the way I want them to.”

“Well…” Jeremy said thoughtfully. “They are just extra limbs, right? With bones and joints and stuff?”

“I guess so.” Gregory finally gave Jeremy his soda back. “But they don’t move how I want-“

“You couldn’t do much when you were a baby right? Learning to crawl?” Jeremy chugged the rest of his Coke before putting the empty can down. “It’s an accomplishment when babies get their heads off the floor on their own, you know. And rolling and stuff.”

“Oh.” Gregory clearly hadn’t thought about it that way. “But Evan’s got excellent control already.”

“He’s had them longer.” Jeremy shrugged. “Maybe he’s just a quick learner. Or maybe, there’s less wing to work with. Could be a bunch of things.”

“But…” Gregory sighed. He inched closer to Jeremy on the couch, his wings refusing to bend in a natural way.

Jeremy awkwardly looped a comforting arm around Gregory. “You’ll get there eventually.”

“They just hurt. All the time.”

“I can’t help with that,” Jeremy chuckled.

“Sure you can! Mike did this thing once, where he…” Gregory chewed his lip. “Well, I’m not exactly sure what he did.”

“You want me to pet you?” Jeremy said in disbelief. “Nuh uh. Go ask Evan. That’s not… No.”

“Why’d you make it weird?” Gregory shook his head. “It was like…”

“Like a shoulder massage,” Evan interjected helpfully. His wings flexed, expanding fully as he explained. They barely went past his shoulders, but the point got across.

Jeremy admired the confidence with which he showed them. He’d personally be too worried about people calling him a freak. Which, thinking about it, was not likely to happen in this house. Everyone was too nice here.

“Mikey went like this,” Evan said, pulling Jeremy’s arm back to get to Gregory’s wings.

Gently, Evan messaged the inner edge of Gregory’s wings, right where they extended from his back. Gregory’s wings convulsed, the claw on one nearly hitting Jeremy in the face. “I think they get itchy,” Evan mused. “We might have to just do this more often.”

“No kidding,” Gregory said with a sigh, his eyes closing and his shoulders relaxing. “But Mike’s still better at it.”

“Wonder where he got his practice,” Jeremy replied. He didn’t mean to sound bitter, but it still came across that way.

Evan winched, but he didn’t comment on it. Instead, he kept focused on his task. Gregory sighed absently. “Wings are a lot of work.”

“Seems that way,” Jeremy replied.

Gregory folded and unfolded his hands while Evan worked. “I just…”

Jeremy spared him a glance as he went to get another can of Coke. “Something on your mind?”

“His girlfriend,” Evan said absently.

“Cassie’s not my girlfriend!” Gregory said, straightening. His wings fluffed up as he said it.

“Oh.” Jeremy had no idea what to make of that. “What happened to her?”

“I don’t know!” Gregory replied. He ran a hand through his hair to try to make it lay flat. “She was at Evan’s party, and she looked really bad. I think Mike took care of it, but he didn’t really say anything about it afterwards.”

“She’s probably at the hospital, Gregory,” Evan replied, trying to be soothing. “We can visit her once we figure out what to do about this first.”

“Stupid wings,” Gregory grumbled. “Making everything harder.”

Jeremy didn’t know how to reply to that. He cracked the can open and took a sip. “Have you asked Mike?”

“He’s sick,” Evan answered for Gregory. His wings fluffed up again.

“Maybe we should check on him then. He’s been resting all week right?” Jeremy asked, trying to be casual about it. Evan had been very guarded about his older brother this whole time.

Jeremy came over every day, and every day, Evan said the same thing. “Mike’s sick. He can’t see anyone right now.”

It had been happening since the day Gregory’s wings had burst through his skin. Jeremy was more than a little concerned. Sure, he hadn’t reacted well to the wings at first, but none of them had. He’d been more supportive when Evan’s had burst through later that same day.

But Michael’s expression became very guarded for the rest of the day, and the next day, he was “sick” and couldn’t see Jeremy. And Evan was very good at shooing Jeremy away when he tried too hard to see him.

“Shouldn’t he eat something?” Jeremy asked.

Evan frowned. “Mikey told me that there’s not much he can stomach right now.”

“Crackers always work,” Jeremy mumbled to himself. Shaking his head, he tried again. “What about water? Maybe he’ll start feeling better with some fluids.”

“I… guess…” Evan seemed less sure. Conflicted, he looked at Gregory and then glanced at the closed door to his cousin’s room.

“I can get it. You keep helping Gregory,” Jeremy said quickly. He didn’t want Evan to change his mind.

Evan relented, nodding slightly. “Okay. Make sure to get him a big glass. And don’t be loud. And-“

“I know how it works when someone’s sick, thank you.” Jeremy set his Coke down and rushed back to the kitchen to grab a glass.

Evan had not been exaggerating. When Jeremy crept into the room with the glass of water, Michael was curled into a tight ball on the bed.

“Mike?” Jeremy whispered into the quiet room.

Michael groaned in response. He rolled over to face Jeremy, exposing the hair plastered to his face with sweat.

“I um.” Jeremy swallowed. He felt a little foolish now. Michael was just literally sick. He wasn’t mad at Jeremy or anything like that. “I brought you some water.”

Michael opened his eyes, feebly reaching for the glass.

“Are you strong enough to hold it on your own?” Jeremy asked.

Michael had to consider that for a moment. Then he shook his head.

“Here-“ Jeremy sat next to Michael on the bed, helping pull him into an upright position so he could drink the water.

Michael leaned heavily against Jeremy, eagerly drinking the water. Jeremy had to brace himself against the wall to support the extra weight. Then abruptly, Michael pulled away.

“J… Jeremy,” Michael whispered weakly. He gripped at Jeremy’s jacket, burying his face in Jeremy’s shirt. “I…”

“It’s okay, Mike-“

Michael seized in Jeremy’s arms, sobbing heavily. His hold got tighter and tighter as his body shuddered with pain. Jeremy tried to set the glass on the bedside table, but he barely had it on the edge and water soaked into the carpet as he pulled Michael the rest of the way into his lap. “I got you,” Jeremy said into Michael’s hair.

“It hurts,” Michael cried, still shaking.

“You’ll get through this,” Jeremy mumbled.

A tearing noise broke through the sound of Michael’s sobs, even as they intensified. “JEREMY!!!” Michael wailed.

“I have you, Mike. It’s okay. You’ll be okay.”

Dimly, Jeremy registered the large wings erupting from Michael’s back. Oh. Oh. This was happening now. Bloody feathers spread out, wrapping around Jeremy to return his comforting gesture.

Gradually, Michael’s crying ceased, and Jeremy was left holding an exhausted teenager with bloody wings. “I am sorry,” Michael whispered, pulling his hands back, the wings retracting slightly. “I did not mean to, uh…”

“It’s okay, Michael.” Jeremy tried to smile at him. He was determined not to squirm in discomfort from all the blood currently soaking into his jacket.

“I… should go shower,” Michael said awkwardly.

“Yeah…” Jeremy wriggled uncomfortably in his jacket.

“Sorry,” Michael said. “I can wash that if you want.”

“It’s not the biggest deal,” Jeremy said.

“It is if you go home wearing a jacket covered in blood,” Michael replied. “It’s only fair that I clean it, since that’s my blood.”

That wasn’t how Jeremy saw it, but he figured he wasn’t getting out of this. “Okay.”

Michael shifted carefully, putting his feet on the carpet. Almost instantly after taking his weight off the bed, he completely lost his balance. His wings flew out, trying to redistribute the weight, but Jeremy didn’t realize that as he caught Michael by the waist. Both of them tumbled off the bed, Jeremy hitting the carpet with a soft ‘oomph.’

“I am sorry. This was not my intent,” Michael said from above Jeremy.

“They take some getting used to, huh?” Jeremy replied, trying to ignore the heat rising to his face.

It hadn’t been much on the bed with Michael clinging to him like a lifeline. But on the floor with Michael on top of him, pinning him to the ground, Jeremy was suddenly aware of how close Michael was to him.

Michael smiled ruefully. “I don’t think I’m strong enough to walk on my own right now. I don’t know how I’m going to wash all this blood off by myself.”

“Maybe your uncle could help?”

“He’s probably back at the library again,” Michael mused as he crawled off Jeremy.

Evan wouldn’t be able to handle it, Jeremy knew that much. And he couldn’t ask for Gregory’s help without alerting Evan to the amount of blood that coated them both.

“Do you want me to help?” Jeremy asked, feeling the heat more intensely in his face. Please say no. He didn’t think he’d be able to handle it.

“Really?” Michael chewed his lip, considering it. “I would not want to be a bother… But if you are offering…”

Jeremy’s heart quickened at the prospect. “R-right.”

“Help me up?” Michael asked.

Jeremy pulled Michael to his feet, unprepared for the wings to wrap around him again. “Um.”

“Sorry. I don’t have much control over them yet,” Michael replied sheepishly.

“Do they want me to carry you?” Jeremy gauged the idea of carrying Michael to the bathroom. It wasn’t the worst idea he’d ever come up with.

“It’d probably be less awkward than walking there like this,” Michael agreed.

“So I’m just going to…” Jeremy twisted around in the space the wings allowed him. Michael hissed out a pained breath, but soon he was behind Jeremy. “How well can you jump?”

Pretty well, apparently. Jeremy barely needed to adjust for the weight of Michael on his own back, hands linked beneath Michael’s knees. “Okay. Let’s get you taken care of.”

“I am not a child, Jer,” Michael said wearily. Still, he pressed the side of his face into Jeremy’s hair. “I am sorry to be such a burden.”

“You’re not a burden, Mike. You’re my friend. I’m absolutely willing to help you out when you’re in need.”

“Mmmmm,” Michael sounded almost mournful. But he didn’t argue.

“Okay,” Jeremy said. “So, I’m thinking they might need a decent soaking, right? Birds like to be fully submerged when they clean their wings right?”

Michael blinked at him from where he sat on the toilet lid. “What are you even saying?”

“The blood.”

“It is not dried yet. Not completely anyway.”

“So what? You were planning to just wing this whole thing, weren’t you?” Jeremy shrugged off his jacket.

Michael snorted. “I was planning to shower, Jeremy. But I guess I was planning to wing it, considering how I have wings now.” His wings stretched as he spoke, emphasizing his point. “I just don’t have the strength to stand there long enough to wash them off.”

“I-“ Jeremy sputtered. Clearing his throat, he tried to skip over the accidental pun he’d made. “Just going to let the water do the work?”

“That’s the goal.” Michael frowned. “There’s just a few problems.”

“Such as?”

“My shirt isn’t going to come off the same way it went on this morning.”

“Are you particularly attached to that shirt?” Jeremy asked.

“Not really. Could try to just-“ Michael pulled at the collar of his shirt.

“I’ll go grab a pair of scissors,” Jeremy said as Michael pulled experimentally at his shirt again.

He had to be careful walking by the couch, noticing Evan curled up for a nap. Gregory was nowhere in sight.

Returning with the scissors, Jeremy nearly dropped them upon seeing Michael. “What happened? I was gone for two minutes!”

Michael’s shirt was hanging off his body in shreds. When Jeremy looked closer, he could see sharp claws on Michael’s hands. “I…” Michael shrugged sheepishly. “I thought I could tear the fabric and take it off myself.”

Jeremy’s mouth twitched, but he didn’t let himself laugh. “Okay. I don’t think you did a very good job of it though.”

“It seems as though I failed…”

“Here, let me just…” Jeremy carefully reached around Michael’s head, one knee resting between his legs. It felt strange to be cutting through Michael’s shirt, but as the fabric gave way, Michael seemed to relax a little more.

Jeremy recalled Gregory and Evan both sitting on the couch as Michael measured the shape they needed cut from their shirts for the wings. Perhaps Michael needed a few of those done as well. Something to keep in mind for later.

“Hey, why is there blood all over-“ Gregory’s eyes widened as he peered into the bathroom.

Michael straightened quickly. Jeremy pulled back, hiding the scissors. “Hello.” Michael waved awkwardly, his wings stiff and very clearly exposed.

“You… you have them too?” Gregory’s voice seemed so small.

“Yes, it appears as though we will match.”

Gregory swallowed harshly. “I can help. I know how to get blood stains out of fabric.”

“I would really appreciate it. Thank you, Superstar.” Michael beamed at Gregory, who flushed a deep red.

“It’s no big deal…”

“Not to you,” Jeremy said softly. “But it helps more than you realize. Thank you.”

Gregory opened his mouth to reply, but no words came out. He scratched his neck as his wings fluffed up, finally saying, “I’ll be quick. It probably won’t be good if Evan finds out.”

“It would be best if he did not know how messy the process is,” Michael agreed.

Gregory nodded, smoothing his hair down before hurrying out of the room.

Michael wadded the scraps of his shirt into a ball and tossed it to the floor. “Now that that’s sorted…”

Jeremy determinedly kept his eyes from wandering as he helped Michael stand. His friend leaned heavily against him for support as he attempted to undo his pants.

Jeremy belatedly realized that the only way this whole thing would work was if the shower ran over both of them. I’m going to be drenched, he thought sorrowfully as Michael muttered to himself in frustration.

“You could probably just sit while I wash the blood off,” Jeremy said when Michael finally stood there in his boxers. “Since it would be less exhausting for you.”

Michael blinked. “I suppose you are correct. I should have thought this through more.”

“It’s no big deal, man. You’re probably dealing with blood loss or whatever.”

“Still…”

“Hey, it’s fine. You spend all this time taking care of everybody. Maybe it’s time someone took care of you, right?”

Michael chewed his lip. “I suppose.”

“Okay. We’ll get you cleaned up in no time, Mike.” Jeremy said, smiling supportively. Michael tentatively smiled back.

As it turned out, it was a lot harder to clean up Michael than Jeremy initially thought. He kept twitching away, hissing out noises of pain at Jeremy’s touch.

Michael clenched his fists in his lap. “Okay. Clearly this is not the proper solution.”

“I can’t do this when it’s clearly hurting you, Mike. I just…” Jeremy leaned forward to rest his head against the back of Michael’s.

“This is nothing. I have endured much worse before.”

“That’s not as reassuring as you think it is.”

“Jeremy.” Michael said calmly, wringing water out of the washcloth. “I am sure it has become clear to you that things are not how they should be. The wings are only one part of it.”

“Yeah? What I’m hearing is that your father is abusive.” Jeremy wearily took the washcloth back, dabbing it gently against the space between Michael’s wings. At least like that it didn’t seem to hurt him.

“Well, not in the way you would think. Actually, I was thinking more of the comparison between growing limbs and losing organs. I think losing organs is still a more painful experience than this.”

“So you want me to just ignore your pain?” Jeremy asked, trying to decipher Michael’s meaning.

“I am saying I can handle it. I can be a man about this.”

No one is doubting that, Jeremy thought grimly to himself. “Maybe I can’t.” He tentatively rubbed at a clump of blood in the inner edge of Michael’s wing.

Immediately, it swung at him, throwing him against the sink. Pain flared throughout Jeremy’s entire body as he hit the floor. Faintly he registered that his face was bleeding.

“Jeremy?” Michael asked, twisting around. “Are you alright?”

“Nnnnngh,” Jeremy groaned. “I don’t think I broke anything.”

“I am so sorry. It appears that the wings are more sensitive than I thought.”

“No kidding.” Jeremy pressed his fingers to his cheek. He was lucky. The clawed joint of Michael’s wing had hit him just below the eye. Any higher, and he might’ve lost it completely. “Now what?”

“I suppose I should just sit under the water and hope for the best.”

“I think Gregory and Evan mentioned messages working out the soreness. Maybe I could at the very least-“

“I think we should avoid that for now,” Michael replied, his voice sounding stiff. “You have already been hurt once today.”

“Michael.” Jeremy tried to make his voice sound stern. “I knew the risks when I offered to help. So let me help.”

“Fine. Just do not do anything that will put you in danger again.”

“Don’t lie about how much it hurts next time,” Jeremy shot back. “Still gotta get all that blood out of your wings, you know.”

Michael clenched his jaw, but he only stared down into his hands. He couldn’t face Jeremy with the nasty cut on his face any longer.

Jeremy was lighter after that. He knew that even pressing a little too hard would make the wings spaz, and over the course of the next few hours, he succeeded with minimal interruptions.

Gregory popped in near the end to check on the progress. “Henry’s back. Do you want me to tell him about this?” He gestured at the entirety of the bathroom.

“I believe he should be informed. Please ensure that my brother does not come to investigate before we are done here.”

“And maybe grab him a dry set of clothes while you’re at it,” Jeremy said. As an afterthought, he looked at himself. “Maybe grab me something too, if you would.”

Gregory rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. How much does it hurt?”

“I suspect that I should be in more pain than I am,” Michael said, considering the question. “But Jeremy has done an excellent job of making sure the process is less than agonizing.”

“Uh, okay?” Gregory shot Jeremy a look.

“I can’t hardly touch him without the wings reacting,” Jeremy explained. “Nearly lost an eye the first time I did that.”

“So it’s bad.”

“It’s bad,” Jeremy agreed.

Gregory shot Michael a look loaded with concern, but he gave Jeremy a thumbs up. “I’ll ask Henry if he can get you guys some dry clothes. Maybe I’ll just imply that something else is going on in here if Evan asks.” He wiggled his eyebrows in a way that made Jeremy’s face burn.

“Gregory-“

But Gregory had already ducked out of the room, laughing quietly to himself. Jeremy sighed, preparing himself for the inevitable glares he’d get from Evan.

Michael sighed softly once Jeremy finally went to smooth out the wings. “That feels really nice.”

“Glad to hear it,” Jeremy said softly. “I think we got all the blood out.”

“Is it time to turn the water off then?” Michael asked, his eyes closing.

“I’d say so.” Thank goodness, Jeremy thought as he turned the dials back and pressed the tab down. “Now you need to dry off a bit.”

“Mmmmm….” Michael hummed to himself as Jeremy stepped into the tub with a towel and started rubbing Michael’s head with it.

Michael’s eyes fluttered open, and he smiled at Jeremy. “You really do like taking care of me, don’t you?”

Jeremy huffed out a sigh. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t, would I?”

“I thought you just stuck around to steal our Coca Cola.”

“That too. But I do enjoy your company, Mike.”

The smile broke into a full grin as Michael tugged the towel out of Jeremy’s hands. “That is wonderful news, Jeremy.”

Did he really not know? Jeremy wondered.

Before he had a chance to answer, Henry peered into the bathroom, assessing the pool of water on the floor. He raised a tired eyebrow as he observed the two boys in the bathtub. “I wasn’t inclined to believe Gregory before, but seeing it for myself…”

Jeremy’s face ignited with heat. “I was just helping clean blood from his wings. Nothing else happened, I swear.”

“I was referring to the fact that Michael grew wings. What did you think I meant?” Henry’s eyebrows scrunched, and Michael gave Jeremy a funny look.

“I thought Gregory might’ve said something else,” Jeremy replied, shaking his head. “Forget it.”

“Are you alright, Jeremy? You look a bit feverish…” A frown tugged at the corner of Michael’s mouth.

“I’m going to go grab some more towels. And you two will be wanting a dry set of clothes, won’t you?”

“Yeah.” Jeremy nodded quickly.

Henry hummed at them before walking back out of the room.

“I am grateful for both you and Gregory,” Michael said, using the towel to dry the rest of his body. He slowly rose to his feet, finally able to stand on his own.

Jeremy determinedly did not stare. Instead, he wrung water from his hair.

“I would offer you the towel, but I believe it is too wet to be any real help. Seeing as your clothes are also drenched, the best course of action is to wait for Henry to return.”

Jeremy smiled weakly. “Yeah, that’s true.”

Michael stepped out of the tub, hanging the towel back on the rack after he went. Jeremy could admit that the wings looked pretty good on Mike. He’d been weary of it when he’d first seen the wings on Gregory, and he knew that Gregory was defensive about it now. But maybe seeing him help Michael would help.

“Do you need a bandage for your face?” Michael asked, making eye contact with Jeremy through the mirror above the sink.

“Oh, I uh.” Jeremy blinked at him. “It doesn’t… It’s fine.”

“Are you sure?” Michael’s mouth twitched. “I understand that me being like this must be unpleasant for you, but that does not mean you do not need assistance with that cut.”

Being like this? Was Michael phrasing things like that on purpose? Was he talking about the fact that he was in his boxers or the fact that he had wings? Jeremy crossed his arms before remembering that his shirt was soaked. He uncrossed them and simply said, “There is no problem. I just don’t need a Band-Aid.”

Michael walked back over, and Jeremy tried to take a step back before remembering he was standing in a bathtub. Trapped, Jeremy stood stiffly as Michael ran a thumb over his scratch. Don’t flinch, he told himself, but it still stung. The cut was pretty deep.

“You likely do need a bandage, despite your claim otherwise,” Michael replied. “I can help, if you need assistance.”

Michael gently wiped blood from Jeremy’s face and went in search of medical supplies. It stung when he cleaned the wound, but Jeremy found himself too fascinated by Michael’s cautious care to really notice. The tiniest furrow in Michael’s eyebrows appeared when he put the bandage on Jeremy’s face, and his hands lingered on Jeremy’s jaw for just a moment too long.

He almost seemed sad when he stepped back from Jeremy. “All better. See?” Michael smiled so quickly Jeremy wondered if he’d imagined the pain in Michael’s eyes.

“Y… yeah. Um. Thanks.” Jeremy touched the bandage, surprised by how big it was. “I didn’t realize the scratch was that big.”

“I still feel terrible for doing that to you. Is there any way I can make it up to you?” Michael asked.

Unable to come up with anything to say other than a request for Michael to kiss him, Jeremy shook his head and turned his attention to Michael’s wings. “Do they still hurt?”

“Not as much as they did,” Michael flexed them experimentally. Jeremy smiled faintly, recalling that Gregory was having immense difficulty controlling his own wings. Perhaps the size made it easier.

Michael made a face. “It appears that moving them still hurts, however.”

“Evan mentioned something about messaging the muscles earlier. He was doing it for Gregory.”

Michael brightened. “I suppose I shall have to ask for Evan’s help with that endeavor then. Thank you for the reminder.”

I could do it for you, Jeremy thought desperately. He didn’t want to just have to leave after everything. This was the most time he’d spent with Michael before, and the guy was just so chill about everything. But being in the same space as him, watching him interact with his brother and Gregory made him want to stay so much longer. Michael Afton was the most compassionate person Jeremy had ever met, and he wanted to be able to help the man who tried so hard to help everyone else.

It didn’t help that Jeremy was also hopelessly in love with him.

As Jeremy opened his mouth to speak, Henry returned with the changes of clothes. Michael turned his attention away from Jeremy to thank Henry and apologize for the water all over the floor, and Jeremy was left to awkwardly collect the pile of bloody clothes on the floor to offer them to Henry.

Henry stared at the rags for a moment, his face paling significantly. “These were Michael’s clothes?”

“Yes.” Michael was separating the clothes to split between himself and Jeremy, and he was hardly focused on Henry. “I could not find a way to safely remove my shirt without causing more pain, so Jeremy helped me cut it off. I am afraid blood does not come out of denim very easily, so my jeans are also a lost cause.”

Brightening, Michael put a bundle of clothing into Jeremy’s arms. “You can change in Charlie’s old room.”

“Why can’t you both change in here?” Henry asked, sounding confused.

Pressure built in Jeremy’s throat as he tried to answer that question. It wasn’t that he was ashamed of himself. Not by any measure at all. He just knew it was dangerous, what he was. People didn’t exactly approve of people like him, after all. Especially not here.

Michael gave Henry a scathing look as tears built up behind Jeremy’s eyes. “Maybe we don’t want to change in the same room.”

Henry blinked in surprise, but he glanced between the two boys for a moment before making his exit. Michael patted Jeremy’s shoulder. “I can go to Charlie’s room instead, if you would prefer to change in here.”

Jeremy still couldn’t speak, so he just nodded. The gentle way Michael nodded back at him filled his body with a strange warmth. A few moments later, Michael was gone, and Jeremy could finally change out of the sopping wet layers he’d been in this whole time.

Half-way through changing, Jeremy noticed that most of the clothes were baggy and easy to layer over each other. There were almost too many options. A jolt ran through him when he considered that Michael had sorted through the clothes. Either Michael was very particular, or he knew.

Hurriedly, Jeremy finished changing and practically ran to the bedroom where Michael said he’d be changing. He basically flung the door open to a startled Mike, who had jeans on but no shirt. “Is something wrong?” Michael asked.

His wings and hair fluffed up, like he’d been expecting a threat, but his expression was one of concern. Jeremy knew he was shaking, knew he wouldn’t be able to speak for a moment, but he stood there and just stared. Why did Michael have to be adorable in everything he did? The way his mouth curled into a frown made half of his mouth seem to vanish, like he was biting on it constantly distracted Jeremy from what he wanted to say.

He let his eyes wander over Michael’s bare torso as he tried to find the words to speak. The worst of his secrets was surely out already, and if Michael figured out his feelings, it would be less painful than him knowing the other secret.

Fascination over the jagged scar across Michael’s chest sprouted in his heart. Jeremy had seen it before, of course. He’d seen it in the bathroom, but he’d been trying not to stare before.

“Jeremy?” Michael looked worried now. “Are you alright?”

Maybe Michael didn’t know. Maybe he just hadn’t grabbed a shirt at all, since they had to be cut specifically for the wings anyway. Jeremy was probably just overreacting. And even if he wasn’t, it seemed that Michael wasn’t going to bring it up. “Uhmm. I just… wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Michael relaxed. “I’m quite alright, Jeremy. I’m not as weak as I was before. The shower certainly helped.”

“You’re um. You’re very fluffy right now.”

“Am I?” Michael ran a hand through his hair, feeling where it stuck up all over the place. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” Jeremy cleared his throat awkwardly. “Thanks for talking to Henry back there.”

“It was nothing.” Michael blinked at him, wings twitching. “Gregory did a good job cleaning up.” He gestured at the carpet and the bed.

The bed was made very neatly, corners tucked so much better than Jeremy could do on a good day. There were only faint hints that someone had been bleeding there, and they were only visible because Jeremy was looking for them. “Yeah. He certainly did.”

A fond smile crossed Michael’s face at that. “He’s so sweet.”

Jeremy didn’t really believe that, but he nodded anyway. He didn’t want Michael to stop smiling for anything. It was so much better than his frown in every possible way.

“We should… I um. I think we should probably head back to the living room,” Jeremy said awkwardly.

“Right, yes. I suppose it is almost time for you to head home too.” Michael blinked, like he was shaking himself out of a daydream. “Or maybe you could stay for supper?”

Jeremy smiled. “I would love that.”

Evan was awestruck when he saw his brother’s wings. “They’re so big!”

“Soft too,” Jeremy said, trying to encourage Evan’s excitement.

Gregory made a noise in the back of his throat before saying, “You would know, wouldn’t you?”

Jeremy stared at him, mouth opening and closing without words coming out.

“No softer than yours, I’m sure,” Michael said, trying to keep the peace. There wasn’t even a hint of a blush on his face at Gregory’s words. Were the jokes just going over his head? Maybe Jeremy was reading too much into it.

Shaking his head, Jeremy plopped down on the couch beside Gregory. “What happened to your face?” Gregory asked quietly.

“I wasn’t careful enough,” Jeremy answered, glancing at the two brothers as they talked about Michael’s new wings. “And Mike’s wings pack quite the punch.”

“Oh.” Gregory’s eyes widened with understanding. “That could’ve been bad.”

“You’re telling me, kid.” Jeremy shook his head, taking a sip from his can of Coke. “What were you and Evan up to today?”

“Videogames mostly,” Gregory replied. “Although everything here is so old.”

“Old?” Jeremy wrinkled his nose. “Nah, my parents are worse. You’re probably just picky. A bunch of this stuff is newer than anything my family could afford.”

“Your motorcycle is cool though.”

Jeremy smiled. “It is pretty cool.”

“Can you take me on it sometime?”

The smile faltered slightly. “Uh, I don’t know.”

“C’mon, please? All the stuff here is pretty boring, and I know Evan tries to be fun, but you can only play the same game for so long before it’s lame. And I don’t want to have to tell him it’s lame. It’s awful when he cries.”

Jeremy didn’t know what to make of that. “Maybe we could play a board game or something.”

“I wanna go on your bike sometime.” Gregory stuck out his chin stubbornly. “Or I’m going to tell Mike you have the biggest crush on him and-“

“Okay, okay! I get it. But you’ll have to wear a helmet,” Jeremy said, looking away and tugging at his shirt. “And long pants. Just in case.”

“Okay, Dad.” Gregory rolled his eyes.

“Well, you’re the one who said it’s awful when Evan cries,” Jeremy shot back. “And I’ve already seen how Mike cries, and I don’t want to see that again. No thanks.”

Gregory flinched at that. “I…”

“Not to frighten you, but it can be dangerous.” Jeremy sighed. “There’s only so much you can be safe. Not to quote my mom, but ‘I’d rather you be late than dead.’ It’s just that kind of thing.”

Seeing Gregory’s expression, he softened. “I’m a firm believer in the fact that both of us are going to get lectured by Michael when he finds out. So, when he tries, we’re going to tell him that I already told you all the risks and you still wanted to do it. Unless I’ve changed your mind.”

“No, haven’t changed my mind.” Gregory scooted closer to Jeremy. “I bet I’d survive a crash better than you.”

“No way,” Jeremy laughed. “With the way you’re built? No offense, but you’d be a splatter on the cement.”

“Rude.” Gregory scoffed. Not subtly at all, he tried to steal Jeremy’s Coke from his hand.

Amused, Jeremy let him. Gregory immediately started downing what was left in the can. At that moment, Michael glanced over and gasped. “Gregory! Is that Coke? Are you encouraging this, Jeremy?”

“He took the can out of my hand. I didn’t do anything,” Jeremy smiled cheekily. “Not my fault he’s so fast.”

“Mmmmm,” Gregory squinted skeptically at the can. “This is Coke?”

“Yeah?” Jeremy looked confused. “Why? Does it taste weird to you or something?”

“It’s better than I remember.”

Michael sighed, removing the can from Gregory’s hands. “That is because Coca-Cola has different flavoring in it than you remember.”

“Are you talking about the whole cocaine in Coke thing? Because I thought that was a myth.”

Michael shot Jeremy an exasperated look. “That is not what I am talking about. Anyway, Gregory does not need caffeine in his system at this time of day. He won’t get any sleep at this rate.”

“Whoops?” Jeremy held his hands up in surrender. “Look I-“

“It does not matter.” Michael shot Gregory a meaningful look. “So long as he doesn’t keep Evan up with his extra energy, it should be fine.”

Evan peered at them all from behind the sofa. “How did he even take it from you? I thought you kept a tight grip on those at all times.”

“Caught me by surprise?” Jeremy shifted his weight as Michael gave him a skeptical look. “He’s faster than he looks, I swear.”

Evan snorted, climbing over the back of the sofa, much to Michael’s despair as he said, “Well, that gives him a one-up in physical games I guess.”

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean? I totally crush at Fazblock!” Gregory crossed his arms. “I had more blocks than you did.”

“Gregory, you’re supposed to get rid of the blocks, not keep them on the screen.” Evan shook his head despairingly. “I would’ve explained the rules if you’d asked-“

“It was different than what I’m used to, okay?” Gregory rolled his eyes. “I could totally beat you at Fazzy Kart.”

“I don’t even know what that is,” Evan replied. “I still think you made it up.”

“Did not.”

“Did too.”

“Did not.”

“Did too!”

“Okay, that is enough.” Michael shook his head, smiling faintly. “Gregory did not make it up. Fazzy Kart just has not come out yet.” He ruffled Evan’s hair before walking away with the empty Coke can. “And I have something for you two to do when I get back!”

“A task?” Gregory asked.

“A task.” Evan snorted. “Ah yes, my brother typically assigns me tasks. No, Gregory. He’s sending us to do chores or something. Usually he’s more mean about it though.”

“No one understands my jokes.” Gregory’s wing twitched irritably.

“Doesn’t matter,” Jeremy replied. “He still laughed, even if he didn’t get it. Be nonsensical! Nobody cares as long as you’re funny.”

“That’s a terrible line of logic. I refuse to believe that people willingly follow your example,” Michael said, returning with a sheet of paper. “Evan, Gregory, I am trusting you two to find everything on this list and bring it back here.”

“We don’t have money,” Gregory said, but he still took the list from Michael’s hands. “And aren’t we supposed to stay inside until we figure out what to do about our wings? And wait, is it safe to-“

“You worry too much, Gregory. We can just ask Uncle Henry for help.” Evan peered at the grocery list. “What are you making, Mikey? This looks like spaghetti sauce, but you don’t use half this stuff normally.”

“Wait and see,” Michael said cryptically. His own wings twitched as he spoke, even seeming a tiny bit ruffled.

“With the overabundance of clothes Henry seems to have, maybe he has jackets you can just throw on over the wings or something,” Jeremy said, slowly rising from the couch as Gregory and Evan stood to examine the list closer.

“We can handle this,” Evan said with full confidence. “And we’ll try to be fast so you can get started sooner.”

“Thank you, Evan.” There was a deeper tone of relief in Michael’s voice at that. “My heroes.”

Jeremy smiled wearily at them all. “I should probably get going.” It felt like intruding to stay this long. Sure, they all tried to include him, but Michael probably had other things he planned to do while Evan and Gregory were gone. Perhaps he needed to talk to his uncle more or something. Regardless, Jeremy had overstayed his welcome.

“I thought you said you could stay for supper.” Michael sounded wounded. “Are you feeling alright? Do you need to lie down?”

He pressed his hand against Jeremy’s forehead. “You don’t seem to have a fever.”

“I’m fine, Michael. I just don’t want to overstay my welcome, you know?” Jeremy ducked away from Michael’s hand and kept his gaze on the carpet. “Especially if you’re all going to be busy.”

“I won’t be busy until they get back,” Michael replied as Gregory tugged on Evan’s shirt to lead him away. “And even then, I won’t be too busy to talk. You can sit with me in the kitchen while I cook.”

“Yeah but…” Jeremy hesitated, combing a hand through his hair. “Look, I just don’t want to be in the way.”

“You won’t be,” Michael insisted. He sat down on the sofa where Gregory had been sitting before. Patting the cushion next to him, he waited for Jeremy to sit back down.

When Jeremy sat down, Michael gestured for him to scoot closer. “What are you doing?” Jeremy asked nervously.

“Your hair is a mess,” Michael replied. “I’m going to fix it for you.”

“What do you mean?” Jeremy frowned, patting his hair self-consciously.

“It’s all tangled. That’s going to be a nightmare to brush out tomorrow if you don’t take care of it tonight.”

“Oh.” Jeremy looked away. “It shouldn’t be your responsibility-“

“My wings shouldn’t have been yours,” Michael countered. “Let me do a nice thing for you. Please.”

“I helped with your wings because I wanted to spend time with you. Not because it was a burden, Mike.”

“This isn’t a burden to me either. Let me help. Maybe I want to spend more time with you too.”

Jeremy didn’t have a counter to that, so he reluctantly sighed. “Just… be gentle on it, okay?”

“Of course.” He blinked, seemingly surprised that Jeremy gave in so easily. “I do need to go grab a brush and a comb.”

“Naturally.” Jeremy shifted uncomfortably on the sofa as Michael got up.

What was he even supposed to say to Michael? He hadn’t expected to get this far, and now faced with the opportunity to have a casual conversation with him, Jeremy panicked.

When Michael got back, the hair brush he carried had long strands of dark brown hair in it, and both the brush and the comb were shining with water. “I hope you don’t mind,” Michael said awkwardly. “But I know that hair gets really, really tangled, so I just wanted to make sure I could get the tangles out without hurting you.”

Oh. That was… surprisingly considerate. “And the water is supposed to fix tangles?”

“Better than a dry brush.”

Jeremy just stared. The most he’d been able to do with his hair was to throw it into the world’s worst ponytail when he needed it out of his face. All this talk of the more effective way to brush through his hair without making it hurt stirred something in his chest. There was nothing Michael would do that could possibly hurt more than the way he was currently doing his hair.

Michael sat back down and got to work. It was strange. Jeremy hadn’t had anyone brush his hair in a long time. His mother had been too busy with work to even notice that he needed help with his hair. Or anything really.

“You have really thick hair,” Michael mused softly.

“Yeah. Makes it a real pain sometimes,” Jeremy replied.

Michael was so gentle with it, apologizing softly when the brush scraped his ear or a snag was too rough. Eventually, though, he set the brush aside and started dividing his hair.

“What are you doing?”

“Helping you with your hair,” Michael replied as he started braiding it. “I assume you don’t have a hair brush for yourself, or maybe you just don’t have much time to do your hair every day. But at the very least, braiding it back at night prevents most tangles from getting worse.”

“How do you know so much about this stuff, dude?” Jeremy wondered. “Like, you know more about this than I do.”

“I…” Michael hesitated. “Evan’s not my only sibling. I had a sister. Elizabeth. Her hair was more of a nightmare than this.”

“Oh.” Jeremy fidgeted. He didn’t know what to do with that information.

“And, there!” Michael twisted a ponytail into the end of Jeremy’s hair. “Less problems for later, see?”

“Yeah.” Jeremy touched a hand to the braid, smiling softly. “Thanks, man.”

“It’s nothing.”

“But I say it is something. Come here, Mike.”

Michael’s wings fluffed up ever so slightly, but he did as Jeremy asked, unprepared for the tackle-hug Jeremy gave him. He gasped in alarm as they ended up on the floor, but when he looked up at Jeremy, it was with what Jeremy could only describe as adoration. Then he was suddenly pressed completely up against Michael as his wings wrapped around them both.

Of course, that was also the moment Evan and Gregory came back from their shopping trip with the supplies Michael had asked for. Letting Jeremy up, Michael immediately accepted the groceries from Evan and went straight to the kitchen. Gregory and Evan were left staring at Jeremy, who was sitting with a ridiculous grin on his face.

“Might need some help preparing this!” Michael called.

Before any of them could move toward the door, however, Henry walked by to go help Michael. Which left Jeremy to get teased by the two younger boys.

“What was that about?” Evan asked, picking a long blue feather out of Jeremy’s hair.

“What were you doing on the floor?” Gregory asked.

“Mike did my hair,” Jeremy replied, gesturing at the hairbrush that now had long strands of gold intertwined with the brown.

Evan looked thoughtful as he fiddled with the feather. “I didn’t know Mikey knew how to do hair.”

“Didn’t you tell me you had a sister?” Gregory asked, picking a smaller, brown feather from Jeremy’s shirt. “He could’ve done her hair once or twice.”

“Maybe…” Evan didn’t sound very sure. “Mikey wasn’t… I don’t know. Maybe he did. I never knew, though.”

“He did mention it when I asked…” Jeremy said, suddenly embarrassed to know more than Evan.

Evan fiddled with the feather more. “He seems to like you a lot.”

“Mike?” Jeremy asked, even more embarrassed now.

“Yeah. He smiles when he talks to you.”

“Except that one day,” Gregory interrupted. “He came inside and cried.”

“That was something else, I think,” Evan responded. “I think the Nightmares finally got to him.”

“So I take it Mike doesn’t usually talk about his issues then?”

“Not usually.” Evan squirmed, his wings puffing up. “Can we talk about something else?”

“Yeah sure,” Jeremy shook his head and finally got off the floor. “Do you want to try playing Kings in the Corner again?”

“Ugh, that’s so boring,” Gregory replied, but Evan was already rushing off to get the cards.

“I need a second. I’ll be right back,” Jeremy said, slipping into the kitchen to grab another can of Coke.

Michael glanced over from where he was cutting an onion and just sighed. “Jeremy-“

“I know, I know. It’s bad for me or whatever. But I need it, okay?” Jeremy took a long swig from the can. “Better than some habits.”

“Still…”

“It’s fine dude. Cut your onion or whatever.”

Henry said something that Jeremy didn’t catch as he rushed back to the living room. “Okay, are we ready to start?”

“This game is stupid,” Gregory grumbled. He was holding his seven cards, and Evan had already laid out the board.

“I dealt, so Gregory goes first,” Evan replied, ignoring Gregory’s comment.

“Lucky,” Jeremy said, eyeing the board.

“I don’t even know how to play,” Gregory complained. “This game is for old people.”

“I guess we’re old then.” Jeremy’s eyes twinkled. “You have to play a card from your hand onto one of those four cards.” He pointed at the two of diamonds, the king of spades, the four of diamonds, and the seven of diamonds respectively. “You want it to be a lower rank, or less points than the card on the stack. And it’s gotta be the opposite color.”

“Oh.” Gregory stared at his hand for a moment.

“You gotta tell him about the kings, Jeremy.” Evan shook his head. “If there’s a king, you can move it into the spaces between the four other cards, and put a new foundation card down.”

“Huh.” Gregory frowned. “This is too confusing.”

“It really isn’t,” Jeremy laughed, taking another sip from his Coke. “If you really want, you can add your cards back to the foundation pile and watch me and Evan play a game.”

“I’m just going to do that.” Gregory stuck his cards back in the bigger stack.

“Suits don’t matter,” Evan said helpfully. “Only color does.”

Jeremy set off to move the king, and the game begun. Evan went out on his first turn.

“Okay, that was a bad example,” Evan said with a grin.

“You didn’t shuffle very well,” Jeremy said accusingly.  “That was- arghhh. We’re playing another game so Gregory can actually see how the game works.”

“Are we doing points?” Evan said innocently.

“We will once Gregory joins in,” Jeremy replied, collecting the cards from the board. “These are warm-up rounds.”

“Riiiiight,” Gregory replied with an amused snort. “You just got destroyed.”

“Thank you for the obvious and accurate commentary, Gregory.” Jeremy rolled his eyes.

When he flipped the four cards over, three of them were kings. Jeremy let out an indignant noise as Gregory burst out laughing and Evan grinned at the board. Just like that, he was down to one card. Jeremy scowled at his own cards as it became his turn.

“All four kings on the board in the first turn,” he grumbled.

“Now who’s bad at shuffling?” Evan replied, watching Jeremy’s hand drop to three cards.

“Oh, shut up.”

Evan snickered as it became his turn. “I almost wonder if you were trying to let me win.” He took the ace of diamonds and placed it on the two of clubs that Jeremy had missed during his turn. “Do you have the hang of it yet, Gregory? We may need a third player or this are going to be some very quick games.”

“Ha ha.” Jeremy said as Evan gathered up the cards again. “I’m just used to people who aren’t paying attention nearly as much as you do.”

“I’m just playing the game,” Evan said with a cheeky grin. “You had a six of spades in your hand? You could’ve played that on the seven-“

“I don’t want to hear it!” Jeremy sighed, exaggerating his grief as he drank from his can. “You have eyes like a hawk.”

Evan just hummed at that, his eyes twinkling as he shuffled the cards again. “What do you say, Gregory? Want to try and give it another shot?”

“Sure. Can’t be any worse than Jeremy, right?”

“Alright, I get it.” Jeremy shook his head. “I guess this game isn’t as awful as you want to claim it is, huh?”

“We’ll see.”

Evan pulled out a baggy filled with little red chips and shook it for a moment. “I didn’t have a chance to grab paper, so we can just play with chips, right?”

“Let’s give Gregory one trial run first,” Jeremy said as Gregory stared blankly at the chip bag. “Let him get a feel for the game.”

Gregory’s first round went okay. He managed to play half his cards in the first go, but he failed to notice that he could’ve moved the king to the corner right away, and Jeremy took advantage of that. Humming to himself, Jeremy quickly went through his turn and waited for Evan.

“That is absurd,” Gregory said, watching Evan put down cards and move piles around rapidly. “There’s no way you’re not cheating.”

“It’s all natural, Gregory,” Evan said cheerfully. “You’re just mad because I’m better at games than you are.”

“Grrrrrr….” Gregory scowled as Evan tapped his own card against the table. He put down his one card and waited for Jeremy to go.

Adding another person really did slow down the game a lot, Jeremy thought to himself. This was the first round someone had actually had to draw a card. Evan hummed, but he also needed to draw a card. Unlike Jeremy, however, Evan couldn’t play his. Finally, the game was even again.

Gregory scowled at his cards. “What do I do if I can’t play?”

“Draw,” Jeremy said. “We’ve both done it.”

Grumbling, Gregory drew a card. He brightened as he realized he could play it, and then it was Jeremy’s turn. Jeremy sighed in relief as he was able to play a card on Gregory’s queen, and then move a ten on top of that. Moment of truth, he thought to himself as Evan studied his hand. Michael’s brother shook his head and drew another card. And promptly played it.

Gregory and Jeremy both groaned at that. “See, but now things get interesting,” Evan said cheerfully. “We’ve all been drawing cards and actually have to pay attention to the board.”

“Don’t you always have to pay attention to the board?” Gregory asked as he drew another card. “Ugh.”

“Depends on how close,” Jeremy said smugly, laying down his one card. “I win this round.”

Evan sighed wearily, but he said nothing as Jeremy collected the cards to shove them at Gregory. “Your turn to shuffle.”

Gregory pushed the cards back at Jeremy. “I don’t know how.”

“I guess I can do it for you. But you’re still dealing, alright? Seven cards to each of us.”

Gregory nodded as Jeremy shuffled, and Evan quickly explained how chips worked. Everyone put one chip in at the beginning. Then, when you drew a card, you’d put another chip in. Each card at the end of the game still in your hand was another chip, except for kings. Kings were ten chips.

They all put one chip in the middle as Gregory passed out cards.

“Ready for your first real round, Gregory?” Jeremy asked, looking over his cards.

Gregory huffed, but he nodded anyway. “This is still dumb.”

“What if we made it a bit more fun?” Evan asked. “I’ll put in this feather.” He held up the blue feather he’d picked out of Jeremy’s hair.

“We’re playing for feathers?” Gregory asked. “But we both have feathers.”

“Not just any feathers. Michael’s feathers. I know him better than you do, trust me. He wouldn’t just give those away.”

Gregory considered it for a moment as Jeremy bit his lip. It seemed plenty easy to get feathers in his opinion. Michael shed two of them while Jeremy hugged him before. “Deal. I’ll put in this one.”

Gregory set the brown feather on top of the three chips. Evan did the same with the blue feather. Both of them glanced at Jeremy expectantly.

“I don’t have any. You both took those from me in the first place.” Jeremy rolled his eyes. The feathers were cool, though.

He kind of wished he had some of his own, maybe to braid through his hair or something. But that required winning this game. And since Evan was really good at Kings in the Corner, and also used all the chips in the box, it was really unlikely that he’d win them at the end.

“How about…” Jeremy put twenty more chips in the pot. “I know it doesn’t balance out at all, but you two seem to really want those feathers.”

Evan grinned, and so, the game began.

Gregory surprised them all by nearly going out in his first turn, but Evan still won the first game. They played in relative silence, too busy concentrating to hold a proper conversation. Evan crushed them in the first few rounds, but Gregory eventually got a win when Evan had 6 cards in his hand, resulting in a somewhat decent counter-balance.

It did nothing for Jeremy though. He looked nervously at his dwindling pile of chips every time the game ended and knew it was very unlikely that he’d win. It wasn’t impossible, sure, but it was incredibly unlikely.

“This is eight, Gregory,” Evan said absently, after Jeremy had already played his first turn. “We can play it, but you should pay better attention.”

Jeremy bit his lip at that. He was losing really bad. He really needed a win, and he needed one where the other two were struggling. Accidentally starting a round on eight cards was not a great way to start that.

“How did you even notice that?” Gregory asked.

“Eight feels thicker than seven.”

“How much do you play cards? Jeez,” Jeremy asked as it became Gregory’s turn.

“Enough,” Evan said with an amused smile. “I usually play alone.”

“This doesn’t feel like a game you can play alone,” Gregory muttered.

“You can. It’s just not as fun. But I don’t play this,” Evan said as Jeremy had to draw yet again. “I play Solitare.”

“Right, silly me.” Gregory shook his head. “Dude, how are you losing the game you suggested?”

“It takes a lot of luck, Gregory.” Jeremy sighed, having emptied his can of Coke long ago. “I’ve already accepted my fate. Now it’s just a matter of wondering who wins overall.”

They all fell quiet again as they settled back into their concentration. A few tense rounds went by as they all drew cards. When Evan finally played a card, Jeremy breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe he’d last another round.

Or… maybe not. It was a close thing, that balance between drawing and playing. “Are we going to go through the whole deck?” Gregory eventually wondered.

“Maybe,” Jeremy replied wearily.

The pot was massive at this point. Evan’s brow was continuously furrowed, and even his wings were stiff with concentration. There’s no strategy that trumps the good cards being at the bottom of the deck, Jeremy thought to himself with grim amusement.

“Ha!” Gregory shouted his delight as he finally laid his last card.

Jeremy sighed sorrowfully as he glanced at his four chips. He would only have two left for another game after this. If only it had been Jeremy who’d drawn the card to end the game.

“I don’t even remember who shuffled that one,” Jeremy said as Gregory gathered the pot.

“It was Gregory. He started us with eight cards,” Evan replied. “You shuffle next.”

“I’m not going to make it through this game,” Jeremy muttered.

“Then we’ll just play it out, and you can be done after,” Evan shrugged. “Who knows, maybe you’ll win?”

“For every draw you have that you can’t play, I’ll put in a chip,” Gregory offered as Jeremy put his last chip in the pot. “It’ll keep things fair.”

“I’m sure,” Jeremy muttered.

“Awww, you are a grumpy old man. Evan look! He’s so grumpy.”

Jeremy rolled his eyes. “Thanks.”

Evan put his last card down, and Jeremy shook his head. “I’m out. Good luck, Gregory.”

He wondered what Michael and Henry were up to in the kitchen. It had been two hours of this, after all. Surely preparing a meal wouldn’t take that long, especially since Evan implied Michael was making spaghetti.

“Okay, I gotta know. What spaghetti takes three hours to make?” Jeremy said, sitting down at the kitchen table with Henry.

“It’s not the spaghetti that takes so long,” Michael replied from the stove. “It’s the sauce.”

“But why?”

“The flavor has to soak in from the leaves.” Michael shrugged, moving to sit down with them. “What were you playing in there?”

“Cards.” Jeremy shrugged. “Gregory said it was for old people.”

“Then he must have never played cards before,” Henry commented.

“Maybe it’s his age,” Michael suggested.

“Nah. Your brother got really into it. He’s been beating both of us.”

“THAT’S SO STUPID!!!” Gregory shouted from the other room.

Evan laughed and said something in response, as they all glanced toward the hallway.

“No way,” Gregory said, his voice still projecting from the other room. “That’s so stupid!”

“I think the sauce is about done,” Michael said, rising from his seat again. “I should probably begin on the actual spaghetti.”

“I appreciate you deciding to cook for us, Michael,” Henry said. “And not that I’m complaining about your food, but this seems more complicated than some of the other stuff you’ve made.”

Michael just blinked at him, filling a pot with water. “It’s just spaghetti.”

Gregory and Evan walked into the kitchen and sat down at the table. “It smells great in here,” Evan said.

Michael glanced at his brother and at Gregory for a moment. “Who won?”

“Evan,” Gregory grumbled crossing his arms. “But he cheats.”

“I do not! Withholding cards on my turn is within the rules of the game. Just because it means you have to draw more doesn’t mean it’s cheating!” Evan argued.

“He’s right, Gregory. If he’s withholding cards, it’s still a risk to him since you can easily draw a card at any moment and win the game yourself. There’s a reason it’s ten chips if you’re holding a king at the end of the game.”

“Hmph,” Gregory scowled.

“Jeremy, do you need a new bandage for your face?” Henry asked as Gregory and Evan glared at each other from across the table.

“What? Oh, I’m sure it’s fine.” Jeremy hadn’t realized that the edge of his bandage was peeling off.

“We’ll get that taken care of later,” Henry said. “Were you planning on staying over tonight?”

“I…” Jeremy glanced around the room. “I don’t know.”

“If you decide to stay, let me know so I can tell your parents,” Henry replied, seemingly satisfied. “And would you like another can of Coca-Cola?”

“Yes please.”

“Don’t encourage his addiction, Henry.” Michael crossed his arms as he leaned against the counter.

Jeremy responded by sticking his tongue out at Michael. Michael shook his head and rolled his eyes, but Jeremy saw a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Can I have one too?” Gregory asked.

“Absolutely not,” Michael replied. His wings twitched slightly. “You’re done with caffeine for the rest of the night. If you’re this loud after half a can, I shudder to think of what would happen if you got a full can of Coke.”

“You’re not my mom,” Gregory grumbled.

Jeremy’s mouth twitched. “He tries to act like it though, doesn’t he?”

Michael made an indignant noise as Gregory burst out laughing. Evan giggled too, adding, “Mama bird Mike.”

All three of them broke into bad laughing fits at that one. Henry and Michael just exchanged an exasperated look as Michael stirred the spaghetti. “I can act like it if you really want me to,” Michael eventually said. “But I don’t think you’d like the response, seeing as you two are baby birds in this analogy.”

“What do you mean?” Gregory asked, bewildered.

“I think what he’s getting at,” Jeremy said, amusement glinting in his eye, “is that mother birds regurgitate food into their chicks mouths.”

“Ewwwww,” Gregory gagged.

Evan snorted. “Mikey wouldn’t do that.”

“Wouldn’t I?” Michael raised an eyebrow. “I’ve certainly done worse.”

Evan froze at that. He seemed to be considering Michael’s point. “He totally would…” Evan sounded horrified.

“And with that terrible mental image, it seems that the spaghetti is done!” Henry said, putting a can of Coke in front of Jeremy before going to fetch everyone plates.

“I just need to strain the noodles, and we’re all set,” Michael said. “Could you grab the strainer please?”

Henry nodded and retrieved the strainer. Evan hummed to himself as he fiddled with the two feathers he’d won in the card game. Gregory said nothing, but Jeremy could tell it he was still bitter from his loss. Surely Michael wouldn’t be unwilling to give up feathers if they asked, Jeremy thought to himself. Maybe he’d be uncomfortable with the idea, but if Gregory said how much he really wanted them, Jeremy was sure Michael would give in eventually.

“It’s going to be hot.” Michael warned, carrying the pot of spaghetti to the table.

Henry quickly placed a potholder beneath it, and Michael went back to retrieve the sauce for the spaghetti. “Do you want to get cups out, Evan?”

Evan nodded and got up from his spot. “Gregory, you can get the plates.”

The whole group cycled around the kitchen like a little family, and Jeremy felt a little self-conscious about his place in everything, so he went and grabbed forks for everyone. It was the least he could do.

Michael dished out the food, putting just enough sauce on their spaghetti that they could avoid it if they wanted to. All of them were a little skeptical of the meal, but they all trusted that Michael knew what he was doing. Gregory and Evan both seemed startled by the taste, but Henry simply raised an eyebrow as he took a bite. Michael didn’t seem particularly concerned about their reaction, though.

He was too busy observing Jeremy when he tried it.

It was… spicier than he expected. Jeremy glanced at Michael, suddenly suspicious of him. Michael blinked at him, casually taking a bite of his own spaghetti. Jeremy glanced at him again before moving his plate to the saucepan full of spaghetti sauce and adding more to his plate.

Michael’s slow smile made Jeremy feel even more confident about his decision. Somehow, Michael had figured him out yet again, almost without effort. Jeremy stuck another forkful in his mouth and smiled back at him.

“Gregory, slow down. You’re going to make yourself sick,” Evan said.

“It’f, fine.” Gregory swallowed hard.

“Careful you don’t choke,” Henry said warningly.

Gregory set his fork down quietly, his eyes watering. He coughed a little bit, causing Michael to turn to him with concern. “Gregory? Are you alright?”

Gregory fanned himself, and Jeremy immediately figured out what was going on. “Too spicy for you? You barely had any!” He shook his head and poured Gregory a glass of milk. “Drink this. It’ll help.”

Gregory eagerly took the glass, draining it in less than a minute. “Mmmmm.”

The rest of the meal went in relative silence, with Evan and Henry occasionally teasing Gregory for eating too fast and being unable to handle spicy food. Michael seemed oblivious to the main conversation, smiling softly to himself.

Jeremy knew he was staring, but he figured it wouldn’t be the biggest deal. Plenty of people stared at their friends, right? At the way they twisted spaghetti noodles onto their forks and brought their forks to their mouths. At the way their eyes glowed with joy at making something new successfully.

Michael caught his eye, and the smile widened. Jeremy felt himself smiling back easily. He’d already finished his food, and Evan and Gregory had finished half the spaghetti by themselves. There wouldn’t be many leftovers anyway.

Henry was the first to move from the table. He collected plates from everyone to take to the sink. When Michael moved to help, Henry waved him off, insisting that since Michael made the meal, he shouldn’t have to clean it up, with a meaningful look toward Evan and Gregory. He stopped Jeremy when he tried to get up too, insisting that guests shouldn’t need to help.

“But I thought we were guests,” Gregory grumbled when Evan tapped his arm to help him get up.

“Jeremy, that bandage really does need to be changed before you go,” Henry said quietly, gathering the leftovers into different containers.

“I can help him with it,” Michael said.

“Michael, you’ve done enough today. Especially with how you were feeling this morning-“

“I can help,” Michael interjected stubbornly.

Jeremy raised a confused eyebrow at the way Michael’s wings and hair ruffled.

“You need rest,” Henry said in a tone that brokered no argument.

Still, Michael persisted, the feathers now completely refusing to lay flat. Jeremy wondered how this could possibly be something he’d need to be so defensive about. “Hey, maybe Henry’s right. You have done a lot today.”

Michael scowled at that, and he grabbed Jeremy’s arm and practically dragged him out of his chair.

“What- Hey!” Jeremy stumbled into Micheal, expecting him to apologize or something.

“There’s the old Mike,” Evan mumbled quietly.

Michael’s face was right in front of Jeremy’s as he spoke. “I know my limits.”

“Do you?” Gregory challenged. He didn’t seem frightened in the slightest, which was very different from the atmosphere surrounding Michael at that moment. “To me it seems like you keep going until you drop. Maybe you should just get rid of that chip on your shoulder and let someone else handle it for once!”

“Like you did?” Michael snapped, and at that, Gregory actually flinched. “Sometimes, you can’t trust that help will come, Gregory. You should know that better than anyone.”

Gregory’s grip on the plate in his hands tightened. “Yeah, well, I didn’t have a family who took care of me like you do! So just suck it up.” Jeremy heard tears behind those words, and Evan mumbled something gently to him and tried to get him to turn his back on Michael.

That seemed to break something in Michael’s resilience. His wings twitched, and he let go of Jeremy’s shirt. “Right. Sorry.” He sounded just as torn as Gregory. “I…”

Jeremy figured nothing would be helped by Michael sticking around in the kitchen, so he tentatively put a hand to Michael’s shoulder. “Hey, you can help with my bandage. Maybe just tell me how to put it on so I do it right tomorrow morning, yeah?”

“So you aren’t staying then?” Henry asked, looking worriedly between the four boys.

Michael’s ashen expression was not particularly reassuring. “No, I mean. If it’s okay for me to stay, I plan to. I just… Maybe it should be my responsibility to fix that?” Jeremy gestured at the scratch on his face. “Seems like all I’m doing here is making more messes anyway. Might as well try to clean one up myself, right?”

Henry frowned but he said nothing.

Jeremy leaned close to Michael’s ear. “Come on then.”

“I didn’t mean to… I hurt his feelings,” Michael mumbled as he mechanically peeled the rest of the bandage away from Jeremy’s face to wipe at the scratch with a wet cloth.

“Energy was running high. Maybe you are a bit more overwhelmed then you thought? Frayed nerves break way for anger sometimes. Or so I’ve heard.”

“I still shouldn’t have done that.” Michael couldn’t even look Jeremy in the eye. He was too distraught.

“Why did you get so defensive, if you don’t mind me asking? And I’m not just talking about Gregory. You were adamant about helping me with my bandage.”

“I just…” Michael hesitated. “I haven’t had a chance to see you in days, and I wanted to get every moment I could?”

“An afternoon together wasn’t enough?” Jeremy teased, even though he knew exactly how Michael was feeling. “Look, that’s okay, Mike. But you gotta take care of yourself too.”

“Yeah, but-“

“What do you want? I know you think you have to help everybody all the time, but you’ve gotta have desires too, right?”

“Maybe I don’t deserve to have my desires realized,” Michael replied. He still wasn’t looking at Jeremy. “Maybe I’m just a rotten person who doesn’t deserve joy or anything that doesn’t directly benefit anybody else.”

“Michael Afton.” Jeremy said, trying to sound stern. “You are a human being just like everyone else. We all make mistakes. And you sound like you’re trying to atone for yours. I don’t know about you, but someone who tries to learn from their mistakes sounds like someone who deserves to have what they want every now and again.”

Michael completely froze at that. When he met Jeremy’s eyes, he looked utterly shattered. “I…” He swallowed. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“That’s okay, Mike. No one is asking you to do everything-“

“No, you don’t understand.” His voice was hardly a whisper. “I’ve… That scolding… You’ve said that to me before.”

“I have?”

Michael nodded mutely. “It was right before…” His wings stretched their full length as Michael squeezed his eyes shut. “I can’t.”

“What can’t you do, Michael?” Jeremy asked softly.

A pained noise rumbled in Michael’s throat, and he dropped the cloth, yanking Jeremy forward by his shirt. Their mouths crashed together, and all Jeremy could think was finally. His own hands went behind Michael’s shoulders, and he gently guided the wings back into a folded position before stroking them gently.

He didn’t want to stop kissing Michael. It was freeing and exhilarating at the same time. Michael tasted like bubble gum and smelled like clean laundry. He was the weirdest man Jeremy had ever met, but maybe that was what made him so alluring. Or maybe it was something else. Something about all this just seemed so… right.

When Michael broke away, Jeremy tried to follow. Michael looked at him fondly and laughed. “I thought you said I needed to take care of myself.”

“I can’t be that addicting,” Jeremy said impulsively.

Michael snorted. “I need air, Jeremy. We were both going to pass out if we kept that up.”

“Can we do it again?” Jeremy didn’t care about air. He just wanted to be close to Michael, wanted to make him smile, wanted to make him laugh.

Michael laughed again, a brilliant sound, before Jeremy pressed their lips back together. It was completely perfect.

[theresascove]

guitar lessons

ellie williams x f!reader

ellie—your guitar instructor—shows you how to play guitar, and you show her your own personal talents in the practice room

tw: not proofread, SMUT, modern!au, guitar instructor!Ellie, top!reader, bottom!ellie, fingering (e!receiving), oral (e!receiving), loser!Ellie, sort of exhibition? (Sex in a practice room), hand over Ellie’s mouth to quiet her, overstim

wc ✎ 1.1k __ I wrote this to give more content to bottom!Ellie, I personally believe there’s WAY too little

You’ve been attending her lessons for some time now. You had scanned the QR code offered to you and put your information in. About a week later you got an email back and here you are now—a month and half in. The institute was about a fifteen minutes drive, the building being one smooshed between other smaller companies.

First applying for these lessons, you had no expectations—but each time you’ve opened that front door you have to shake off your nerves. The first time you came through this door and saw her, your instructor, you had to do a double take. She looked about your age, hair short and hanging around her shoulders. Her guitar was set beside her, one you recognize from a popular and reputable brand. She was on her phone, looking up at you when you signaled your arrival by opening the door. She shook your hand, introducing herself before taking the both of you back to the practice room in the back.

You barely knew chords then, only knowing the basic G and C major. She’s taught you a lot, and now you’ve begun to play a few songs, understand a few more chords, and you can even pluck a few songs. Sure you’ve learned a bit, but at the same time there were lessons where you didn’t pay any attention. It was the ones when she’d lean close, her fingers covering yours—showing you how to press tighter onto the guitar so it doesn’t buzz. She always had to show you a few times because the first time you never “got it.”

Now you grab the guitar from your car, moving into the building with the same old deep breath, preparing for whatever’s to be shown. She was in the back practice room, eyes raising to yours as you open the door.

“Hey,” she leans to set her phone down on the ground, “you practice at all this week?”

“Uh,” you laugh, sitting across from her.

“Shit yeah of course, you didn’t.”

You bring your guitar out of its case, setting it your lap, “I’ve had a lot going on, I promise I will this next week.”

She sets her pick in between her lips, humming and reaching behind her for her own guitar. As she pulls it out again, you watch each movement—eyes locked on her lips.

“I don’t believe you, but anyways.”

The lesson kicks off. She tries to pick off where you two left off, but it proves difficult with no practice. It started out with re-going over the song before she tried working on the parts you were messing up on.She’s showing a newer chord, one that has your own fingers struggling to grasp—slipping between the bars. She had moved her guitar beside her yet again, her eyes watching you try and get this and fail miserably each time.

“How’re you getting it?”

She rolls her eyes, “skill.”

With a huff she leans in again, closing the distance between you two. Her callused fingers brushing yours and pressing them, moving them where’s needed. Your pupils pretty much dilate, breathing turning sharp. She’s so close, you can count each freckle on her face and describe her eye color exactly.

“Did you grasp any of what I just said?”

Her voice’s so low, raspy—it drives you up the wall. Holy fuck you wanted to push her against the wall. Her voice, fingers, lips, eyes, body. Maybe you were too overly obvious about your attraction to her physically because she reacts. Her eyes widen just subtly, body stilling at the look coming upon your face. She looks a little taken aback, but she doesn’t move away.

You slide your fingers on top of hers, “can I kiss you?”

As she comes to nod, you’re sliding your guitar off your lap and pulling her in. A hand on her jaw, angling her to start the kiss off deep. You reconnect your lips again, not caring to try and really breathe because all you want to do is breathe her in. You’re desperate.

The angle is awkward, reaching—so you ease it on the both of you. She ends up pushed against the wall just as you’ve imagined so many times. Her hands grappling to hold onto the sponge-like walls, gasping between each kiss. Each sound escaping her drives your mind into a lust-hazed frame of mind.

“Is this okay,” you huff, “will you tell me if I go too far?”

“Yes.”

You pull at her sweats, kissing along her jaw as you drag them down and off somewhere. Right after you’re hiking her leg up, drawing it to rest on your hip to spread her further. Her eyes open to find yours and her focus is gone, she’s already under the effect of your touch. She shivers as you draw your hand down, breathing heavily when you reach her cunt.

“You’re intoxicating—shit.”

With a tug you pull her underwear to the side, rubbing before thrusting a finger in. She moans, head hitting the wall behind her—eyes still looking at you. There’s barely anytime set between when you first insert your first between moving to three. You have her moaning to a concerning volume. With your free hand you cover your mouth, feeling her hot breaths against it.

“Shh, can’t have others knowing.”

She’s whining behind your hand, hips jerking when you hit a spot that throws her over the edge. Everything is exactly how you’ve been imagining, quick flashes of how you’ve wanted to take her whenever she got close to you. She shakes when she reaches her high, covering your fingers.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, unsympathetically. She looks confused until she sees you lower yourself to your knees and kiss her inner thigh. She singsongs when you kiss her overstimulated clit. Your name falls from her lips as you do so, almost a hiss before she covers her own mouth to try and keep quiet. Just beside you are piano sounds and singing, most likely a kid learning his scales and warming up for his vocal lesson. Here you have Ellie in another kind of vocal lesson, voice coming out pitchy and whiny.

“I’m going to—again.”

You hum against her, grinning at her tone and licking her completely to see the reaction she has. Each thing she does really is intoxicating, it fills your own mind with nonsense—nothing but her. Her tattoo’d arm is gripping you, the other set upon her face. Her eyes are shut, squinted and trying to calm herself. The second after she comes again, you’re licking her clean—savoring each moment.

“You’re nasty,” she huffs.

You stand, meeting her in a passionate kiss, “maybe, but you enjoyed it.”

“Maybe.”

[russellsppttemplates]

I'm right here! (Oscar Piastri)

People seem to forget you're dating Oscar

Note: english is not my first language. Another Oscar piece 🫶

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Cw: jealous themes

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3

"Do you think this will translate as well on the track though?", Phil, the head of the engineering department, asked as you showed him the latest set of data.

"Even with the interval we've set for changes, these numbers show it could improve performance, especially in race pace", you pointed to the calculations on the side.

"We would only have it for Miami, though", he reasoned, "we don't have enough time to get this done for Shanghai and I don't think it would be wise to test this in a track we haven't raced in five years", Amelia argued as you nodded in agreement, "but it looks promising - good job, Y/N", she patted your back.

"Would you feel comfortable talking about it in the meeting with Zak, Andrea and the mechanics? You have been the one working the most with this, makes sense for you to be the one taking point. Lando and Oscar should join you as well - I think they're doing something on the Sim", William mused.

"Absolutely! Yes, Oscar said he was driving a new set up and strategy Tom also wants to discuss in the meeting", you offered with a smile.

"Having insider information makes this easier - I don't have to check every single e-mail and wonder about things, especially Oscar's schedule", Amelia chuckled, rubbing your shoulder before she got up.

As everyone gathered in the meeting room, you set your laptop up so the latest data would be seen by everyone as you spoke about the changes, "we don't think nor expect this will be ready for China, but we're hoping to have the new package in Miami already - gives us enough time to work on it and the track there is ideal for us to have an idea of how this could play out for the rest of the season", you concluded.

"I agree - I think China will be damage control racing and we're accepting it as it goes", Andrea stated.

"We just need to get going with these then and also get the guys to try it out on the- Oh! Speaking of the devil", Zak chuckled as Oscar and Lando stepped inside the meeting room.

"So that's that, I think - thank you for all your work and let's hope we can bring some points next weekend", the British driver said before everyone scattered out.

Closing your laptop and getting your tablet, you held them against your torso so you could go and set them back to your station before lunch. You didn't make it very far as Oscar stood just outside the room, his hand snaking up your back carefully as he didn't want to startle you.

"Good morning, love", he smiled, kissing your cheek and walking with you.

"Morning, Osc", you kissed his cheek back, "how was training?", you wondered.

"Same old - went for a run this time, though, it was nice enough outside", your boyfriend offered as you reached your desk, tidying it a little bit before leaving to get some lunch, walking hand in hand.

You didn't expect to fall for a driver, especially after the relationship you had with Lando. You behaved like siblings, often pranking eachother, and it had helped you grow more confident around him and the senior staff when you felt you were all but a small intern. Over the years, you grew more comfortable as your ideas and pitches would get considered and tested, finally feeling like your place was well earned and that at the right time, the development would come to bring McLaren to the top where it belonged.

When Oscar joined the team, however, you didn't expect to feel the way you felt about the Australian driver. He was handsome, very shy and very kind and thoughtful as he sat all through the meetings as you explained the changes. Jeopardising your career was something you didn't want to do, but after some not so careful touches and glances, the team assured you it wouldn't be an issue in case you and Oscar were to pursue a relationship together.

"Here's my favourite team-mate! And she brought Oscar with her!", Lando joked as you sat at the same table as him.

Swatting his neck playfully, you sat down next to him so you could face Oscar as he put his tray down, "I will revoke new updates package from you and you'll be stuck in the midfield", you taunted before you started eating.

"Do you want to spend the night at my place? I need to sort a few things out still this afternoon, but I'm hoping I can leave on time today", you squinted your eyes.

"What do you mean on time?", Lando quirked an eyebrow.

"Yesterday, she got so caught up in the calculations, I barely got a text out of her when I asked her if she wanted to have dinner with me", Oscar chuckled as you held hands on top of the table, playing with his fingers, "what was it you texted me? 'I'm having a breakthrough' I think it was", your boyfriend offered.

"I did, though! Amelia checked it over and we might be onto something - I have to go to Race Base this afternoon so they can check them out", you shrugged your shoulders."We're spending the whole afternoon in the sim", Oscar checked with you, "when you get off, then we can leave together - how does that sound?".

Coming back to your place after you stopped by the supermarket, you set the bag on the counter and pulled out all of the ingredients you bought to make sure the dinner would be suitable and appropriate to Oscar's plan.

"I haven't had a proper cuddle today", Oscar pulled you to him, beggining to litter kisses on your forehead all the way to your cheeks and jaw, "I can't ever do this at the center", he mumbled against your neck, tickling you.

"We could, just where there are no other team members", you giggled before cupping his cheeks, "which happens to be nowhere most of the time", before you kissed his lips.

"I'm going to start working on the chicken", Oscar said after you stole a few kisses, "are you going to be in the Center for the race?".

"No, I'm travelling with the team", you smiled as you took the fresh pasta out of the bag, "which means we can spend more time together - and people will actually see us together", you mumbled the last part.

"People know we're together, love", he smiled, cutting up the last bit of garlic and tossing it in the pan.

"Sometimes it doesn't seem like it - they didn't see me in Jeddah and the rumours flew out of control", you wiped your hands on the kitchen towell before hugging Oscar's back, resting your cheek between his shoulder blades.

"You know how the media works - they see the smallest hint to something they want to see and then they're there", he offered, taking one of his hands to squeeze your hip, "you're the one here, aren't you?", he tsked.

.

"Where are you going?", Oscar asked as he saw you grab a tablet and push the chair back under the table, "I thought we could have some time together now".

"The stewards picked out eight cars at random to get checked over a few components - Mike and Barry are waiting for me", you offered, pecking his lips quickly, "hopefully they're just not messing around with our schedule because everything is supposed to be how it is!", you smiled before you started to walk out.

"I'll go with you, then", your boyfriend assured, "can't have you go to the wolves on your own when you can have company, beautiful".

Oscar walked up to the building with you, kissing your temple before you stepped inside, "I left some data from the sprint for you to look at, and tell Lando I also left a file for him with his tire deg - I told Will to do it, but he might forget!", you alerted before letting him go.

Knowing how long it would take, he went back to the McLaren garage, stopping whenever fans snapped a couple of pictures or autographs.

By the time you were back in the hotel room after the sprint and qualifying, Oscar went to the bathroom so he could have a shower, leaving you to lay on the bed and scroll through social media.

You looked at the photos the media team had posted, along with the stories where you could spot yourself in the background and spotted a few comments as you flicked through the carrousel of pictures, the comments under it weren't something you hadn't seen before.

Hear me out, Oscar and Elaine are the perfect match

I know, right? 😭 honestly, they need to get together! They would be so cute together

She's so polite and put together, but I get rhe vibe that she's really shy too, they would be perfect for eachother

Are we forgetting Y/N? aka Oscar's girlfriend

I still can't believe the people at the top have let their engineer date a driver

Y/N's way too out there, I call PR relationship

She couldn't even build a great car, I'm not sure why you would defend her

She was literally the reason the car and the turnaround last year and we started getting podiums?

These have been the best 12 months in terms of development, what are you on about? Just because she's with Oscar, you can't dig at her like that

The last few comments don't come up too often, but you had to admit it was nice when they did even if they did nothing to the way you felt.

The green eyed monster took over more times that you'd like. You work with numbers, probabilities and direct correlations, so it was hard to miss the reason behind how you were feeling.

"Why are you looking at your phone like that? You promised you wouldn't work once we got back to the room", Oscar warned, using the towell to dry his hair before he looked at you again.

"I'm not working", you mumbled, locking the phone and setting it on your stomach, pondering whether or not you should talk to Oscar about this.

"That long silence tells me that there is something bothering you", Oscar began, "I'm not saying you have to talk about it right now - I won't force you to -, but I'm here for you when you want to do it", he offered earnestly.

"I'm jealous of you and Elaine", you stated, earning a quirked eyebrow from your boyfriend.

"Me and Elaine? The communications' intern?", he looked for some clarification.

"Yes!", you answered loudly.

"We don't - I don't even spend that much time with her, what do you mean?", Oscar asked.

"I know you don't, but people online seem to think you should! First, it was that actress that McLaren invited for Abu Dhabi - the weekend where Natalie and Naomi kept approaching us because they wanted to chat and there was actual visual proof we were together after all the rumours -, now they're saying how you should go out with Elaine!", you admitted, "they're all saying you really should have someone and that she should be the one to go, that she has all the qualities you should look for and I-", you took a big breath in, "I'm literally over there, every single day of the races - in the garage, sometimes in the pitwall!", you stated, "I barely do any races from the Center anymore, so it's not like people forgot that I exist!".

"Love, I'd never do that to you - you're the only person I care about like that", Oscar replied instantly.

"I know you don't, but it hurts to see", you admitted, "comments people make about my boyfriend and how he really should start dating someone when our relationship is public - I'm there, I see them, they see me!", you let a tear fall down your cheek, "there's only so much I can do to make it obvious, Osc!".

Oscar sat down next to you on the bed, throwing the towell on the floor for the moment so he could pull you to face him.

"Y/N, I didn't know it was bothering you so much, I don't even notice all of that", your boyfriend craddled your face in his hands, thumbs wiping the tears that continued to fall and looking into your eyes.

"I never told you and I know you don't read all of the comments", you reasoned, "I just thought it would stop at some point! Everyone keeps saying that you should have someone and I want them to think I'm that someone - because I am!", you said bitterly.

"Is there something you'd like me to do? That would make you feel better about it?", Oscar combed your bangs away and behind your ears.

"What can we do anyway? Have you walk around with a t-shirt that says "I have a girlfriend - Y/N, the engineer"?", you scoffed.

"I will do that if you think it will help - throw in a headband with "Y/N's boyfriend" too if it helps!", he tried to pry a smile out of you.

"Don't be silly", you playfully shoved his chest before holding his hands in yours, "I honestly have no idea what to do, but I know I want it to stop without putting our jobs on the line", you pouted.

"Maybe an Instagram post from us then? Something chilled but serious enough so anyone can get the hint - and I wouldn't mind arriving into the paddock with you in the morning", your boyfriend suggested.

"Oscar, I have to be there way earlier than you need to", you argued.

"Then I'll be there earlier, I'll have breakfast there with you and we'll spend more time together in front of everyone - as much as you feel comfortable with", Oscar offered you an assuring smile, "I don't want anyone else the way I want you, I don't love anyone the way I love you, Y/N".

Smiling at the honesty and safety he was transmitting you, you kissed his lips, starting with small pecks before one last long kiss, letting your foreheads touch as you pulled away, "thank you, Osc, I love you".

The next morning, reporters were surprised when they saw the McLaren driver show up in the paddock so early, his hand laced in yours as they asked a couple of questions.

"My girlfriend had to come in earlier, so I thought I'd join her and see a little bit of the preparations", Oscar replied before you continued to walk to the McLaren hospitality.

"Is it bring your boyfriend to work day?", Anna asked after her usual morning greeting.

"He's always with me at work though", you squinted before giggling, "but I really need people to know he's mine and that I'm here!", you half joked.

[angelsfat3]

ꮩ, 你是他的新父亲。 ⸻[the babysitter...]

＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿

Summary: You are a 20 y/o boy looking for a job to pay for his studies. You see that they are offering a large amount of money to take care of a child... What is the worst that can happen?

C/w: Lots of tension, awkwardness? Jay looking like a hormonal teenager in love. －ㅤTw: Divorce, insecurity (fear)?, nothing more | correct me if I'm wrong anyway!

Genre: fluff, suggestive, ceo!Jay x student!reader.

A/N: Dilf Jay has been in my drafts for 2 weeks now, I finally decided to finish it. And no, I don't plan on doing a 2n part, just imagine the rest. (⁠◠⁠‿⁠・⁠)⁠—⁠☆

the introduction is a bit long... My bad.

Previously...

Being William's nanny, the son of the illustrious CEO Park Jongseong, was far more than just a job. From day one, you realized you were stepping into a world vastly different from the one you knew. The Park mansion was an imposing place, brimming with luxury and meticulous details, yet it carried an atmosphere that made you feel as though you were constantly being watched.

Your first encounter with Jay—Park Jongseong, to be precise—was more formal than you had anticipated. They led you to his office, where he sat behind an expansive desk, engrossed in paperwork. He didn’t look up immediately, but when he finally did, his eyes met yours in a way that sparked an instant connection, though it was a connection you couldn’t quite define.

“So, you’re [...],” he said, his voice steady and controlled, yet there was an undercurrent of something more. “William is my top priority. I trust you can handle everything that comes with taking care of him.”

The first time he introduced you to William was a pivotal moment. The boy, small and inquisitive, regarded you with initial wariness, but the presence of his father beside him seemed to offer reassurance. Over time, William began to warm up to you, his smiles and laughter gradually becoming a cherished part of your daily routine.

Your relationship with Jay, however, unfolded differently. At first, you only saw him in passing as he left for or returned from work. But soon, you noticed that his visits to the living room, where you played with William, or to the kitchen, where you prepared dinner for his son, grew more frequent. It wasn’t uncommon to catch him silently watching you, his eyes tracking your every movement.

These encounters began to create a charged atmosphere, as if something unspoken was emerging between the two of you. Words were few, but the glances exchanged spoke volumes, far more than either of you were willing to admit. And though William was always at the center of these interactions, it was clear that the tension between you and Jay had nothing to do with the child.

One afternoon, as William napped in his room, you crossed paths with Jay in the hallway. The encounter was unexpected, but no less significant. Jay held your gaze for a long moment, his dark eyes searching yours.

“Is William okay?” he asked, but there was more layered beneath the surface of his words than their simple meaning suggested.

“Yes, he’s asleep,” you replied, feeling the air around you grow heavier. It was as though you both were waiting for something more to happen, yet neither dared to make the first move.

The moment that changed everything came when Jay called you to his office to pay you. As you entered, you sensed something different in his demeanor, a kind of anticipation. When he handed you the envelope, he did so almost casually, but as you reached out to take it, your fingers brushed against his. The touch was fleeting, yet it was enough to make you both pause.

For a brief moment, his fingers moved slightly, as though instinctively tracing yours. It was a subtle gesture, yet laden with meaning. You felt a warmth spread through you, a nervousness you hadn’t felt before. Jay seemed to feel it too, his eyes locked on yours as the tension in the room thickened.

Just as the moment seemed to stretch on endlessly, a distant sound broke the spell. William had woken up and was crying. The sound shattered the moment, and you quickly withdrew your hand, mumbling something about going to check on William.

You left the office with your heart pounding, knowing something had shifted, but unsure what to do about it.

From then on, every encounter with Jay in the mansion carried a new emotional weight, a kind of electricity that you both tried to ignore but that grew stronger with each passing day.

Present:

It's been a few weeks since you began working as William's personal nanny, following Jay's orders. The Park mansion, which once felt cold and distant, has gradually become familiar to you. You now know every corner, every hallway, and have grown accustomed to the soft murmur of hushed conversations among the staff, the faint echo of the piano resonating from the lounge, and the ever-present yet silent presence of Jay.

Yet, lately, something has shifted. You feel it in the way Jay looks at you whenever he finds you in the kitchen, the garden, or even in the playroom with William. There’s an intensity in his gaze that wasn’t there before, a kind of anticipation that leaves you uneasy.

One afternoon, as you're preparing William's snack, Jay unexpectedly enters the kitchen. His presence startles you; he's usually in his office or at meetings. It's unusual for him to spend this much time at home during the day.

"Need any help with that?" he asks, moving closer to the counter where you're slicing some fruit.

You glance at him sideways, surprised by his offer. "No, it's alright, thank you. I'm just preparing something light for William."

Jay remains beside you, standing too close for comfort. You can feel the warmth of his body next to yours, his arm brushing against yours as he picks up an apple from the fruit bowl.

"You've done a great job with him, you know," Jay remarks, taking a bite of the apple. "William adores you. It’s like you’re a second father to him."

"He's... a good kid," you reply, avoiding his gaze. You keep your eyes fixed on the knife in your hand, trying to ignore Jay's proximity, the scent of his expensive cologne that he always wears, and the way his deep voice seems to caress your senses along with that comment... "Second father?" your mind lingered on that phrase as you expertly cut the fruit.

Jay sets the apple aside and looks at you intently, as if waiting for something. "I've noticed you've been spending more time here at the house lately. You seem more at ease."

You nod slowly, unsure of what to say. "Yes, I suppose I'm getting used to the place."

"I'm glad to hear that," Jay responds, and there's a tone in his voice that makes you pause.

When you finally look at him, you find his eyes locked on yours, serious, as if searching for something in your expression. "I want you to feel at home, [...]. You're important to William... and to me."

That last sentence hangs in the air between you, laden with a meaning you’d rather not dwell on too much. You feel your breath quicken slightly, but you force yourself to stay composed.

"Thank you, Jay," you manage to say, striving to keep your tone casual. "That means a lot to me."

He smiles, but there's something else in his gaze, something you can't quite pinpoint—more so because his gaze was like knives piercing into you. And then, as if testing the limits of your self-control, Jay leans in a little closer, his lips almost brushing your ear.

"I don't just want you to be William's nanny," he whispers, his voice smooth and velvety, "I want you to stay here... for me, for both of us."

Your heart pounds wildly, and you pull back slightly, trying to maintain your composure. You know there's more behind his words, something beyond the professional relationship—one that you’re supposed to have.

Jongseong seems to notice your unease and steps back slightly, giving you the space you clearly need. "I'm sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable," he says, and although his tone is kind, you can’t help but notice the disappointment in his eyes.

"No... it's alright," you respond, stealing one last glance at him. Both of you know it isn’t entirely alright. The air between you is thick, laden with something you’re both trying to ignore.

With a sigh, you finish cutting the fruit and place it on a plate. "I’m going to take this to William... he should be in the playroom."

Jay nods, his eyes following your every move as you head toward the door. Just as you’re about to leave, you hear his voice behind you.

"[...]," he calls, and his tone is more serious than you’ve ever heard before.

You pause at the door, slowly turning to face him. Jay is standing in the same spot, arms crossed over his chest, his expression grave.

"If you ever feel uncomfortable... if you ever feel like I'm crossing a line, just tell me. I don’t want you to think that I’m pressuring you or, worse, harassing you."

The sincerity in his voice catches you off guard, and for a moment, you feel a surge of emotions you don’t quite know how to handle. You simply nod slowly, appreciating his consideration—though both of you know things won’t go back to how they were.

"I will, Jay. Thank you."

With that, you leave, but the weight of the conversation lingers, making you question what exactly Jay wants from you... and what you feel for him.

The following days are filled with those silent moments, lingering glances that last a bit longer than necessary, the brush of hands when he hands you something or when you run into him in the hallways. These small gestures, which might seem insignificant to others, become the focal point of your world, making you question the relationship you have with Jay and what it might mean for the future.

＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿

It was a Friday night, and the house was cloaked in near-total silence. You were in William’s room, gently rocking the child in your arms. His eyelids drooped slowly as you hummed a soft melody, preparing to lay him down to sleep.

The boy held onto the bottle you were cradling for him, his breaths growing deeper and more rhythmic.

With careful precision, you eased William onto his bed, ensuring he didn’t stir. You lingered for a few moments, a tender smile forming on your lips as you lightly brushed your fingers across his cheek.

Slowly, you slid the bottle from his mouth, keenly aware of any sudden movements that might disturb his sleep, but the child only sighed, snuggling into his pillow, peacefully lost in dreams, clutching a stuffed toy imbued with the scent of his father.

You turned with the intent to quietly exit the room, but froze when you noticed Jay leaning against the doorway.

His arms were crossed, and a gentle smile played on his lips as he watched the tender scene between you and his son. The soft light from the hallway outlined his figure, highlighting the serenity in his expression, though his eyes conveyed something deeper.

“You’re really good with him,” Jay murmured, his voice low, careful not to wake William.

“Thank you,” you whispered back, trying to ignore the sudden quickening of your heartbeat. His words, though simple, carried a warmth that left you feeling vulnerable.

Jay stepped forward, his gaze still locked on you. “I need to speak with you in my office. It’s time to give you your monthly payment.”

You nodded, attempting to mask the nervousness that crept in. As you passed him in the doorway, you took care not to brush against him, yet his nearness made you acutely aware of the shared space between you. Jay followed closely as you left the room, quietly closing the door behind you so as not to disturb William’s sleep.

The walk to Jay’s office was silent, yet the tension between you was unmistakable. Each step echoed in your ears as you tried to maintain your composure. Upon reaching the office, Jay opened the door, motioning for you to enter first.

Once inside, the atmosphere shifted; the intimacy of the office, with its dark wood-paneled walls and the warm glow of the desk lamp, seemed to encapsulate everything that was unfolding between you.

Jay moved towards his desk, pulling an envelope from the top drawer. He took his time, as though the weight of the moment was more significant than the mere transaction about to take place.

You approached slowly, trying to appear calm, though the anticipation in the air made it difficult to focus.

“This is your payment,” Jay said, extending the envelope toward you. When you reached out to take it, his fingers brushed against yours. It was a fleeting touch, yet it was enough to make both of you pause, as if time itself had halted for just a moment.

Your eyes met, and though neither of you spoke, the subtle caress between your hands lingered for a few seconds longer. It was as if you were both caught in a silent dance, one in which neither you nor Jay dared to be the first to pull away.

You felt a sense of déjà vu—everything was happening just like the previous month, but this time, you didn’t want to pull away... You were savoring his warmth.

Finally, you snapped out of it, withdrawing your hand with a mix of nervousness and something you couldn��t quite define. “Thank you,” you murmured, stepping back.

Jay, however, remained unmoved, his gaze fixed on you as if he were wrestling with something in his mind. There was an intensity in his eyes, a tension that made the air in the room feel even heavier.

Though the silence between you had grown thick, a part of you yearned for him to say something more, something that might shatter the invisible barrier that seemed to keep you both ensnared in roles that no longer felt so defined.

Just as discomfort began to settle in your chest, the faint sound of a baby monitor on the desk broke the moment.

It was William.

With a sigh, you took a step back. “I need to check on William; he might have woken up,” you said, more to yourself than to Jay, before turning quickly and exiting the office, your heart racing.

You were determined to push aside whatever you were feeling, tucking the envelope of money into your back pocket as you made your way swiftly to the door. The less time you spent alone with Jay, the better...

Before you could take another step toward the door, Jay’s hand grasped yours firmly. The grip was determined, almost as if he wanted to ensure you wouldn't escape—no, not this time.

You stopped, your heart pounding in your chest as you slowly turned to face him, unwilling to hold his gaze for too long.

Jay was closer than you had expected. His dark eyes, brimming with an intensity you could barely endure, locked onto yours.

He said nothing at first but took your chin in his hand, forcing you to look directly at him; the silence in the room was dense, charged with palpable tension. The atmosphere between you was electric, as if you both knew you were on the brink of something irreversible.

Jay took a step forward, and though your instinct urged you to retreat, your body remained still, caught in the invisible force radiating from him.

You could feel the warmth of his body mere centimeters from yours, and just being so close made you feel vulnerable in a way you hadn’t experienced before.

“[...]” Jay murmured, his voice low with a hint of something you couldn’t quite place. “If you don’t want this, if it’s too much, tell me now.”

His words hung in the space between you, but instead of responding immediately, you found yourself trapped in his gaze, unable to look away. Part of you wanted to tell him to stop, that this was wrong, but another part—one that grew with each passing second—wanted nothing more than to give in.

“Jay...” you began, but your voice faltered as he took another step, closing the remaining distance between you.

You could feel his breath on your skin, and before you could say another word, he raised the hand holding yours to his lips.

“Stop me... push me away... or hit me, but do it before I go any further,” Jay whispered against your hand, his lips brushing your skin with a softness that made you shiver.

You wanted to do each of the things he suggested. But you didn’t. You didn’t move, didn’t speak. You just stared at him, your breath caught in your throat, as he leaned in, his free hand moving to your jaw, ensuring you couldn’t pull away.

When his lips finally met yours, the world seemed to fade away.

The kiss started gently, a delicate exploration as if he were testing your limits. But soon, it became more assured, more intense, and you found yourself responding without thinking. Your lips moved with his in perfect harmony, as if they had been destined to meet this way from the start.

Jay drew you closer, his hand on your hips, pulling you toward him until there was no space left between your bodies.

You could feel each heartbeat of his resonating through his chest, and the warmth of his touch enveloped you, making everything else fade away. His fingers glided over your jaw, moving slowly to tangle in your hair, while his lips moved with a tenderness that contrasted with the intensity of his grip.

With every passing second, the tension between you grew, becoming almost unbearable.

Jay pulled back slightly, just enough to look you in the eyes, his breath ragged as he rested his forehead against yours.

“You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to do this,” Jay whispered, his voice filled with a mixture of desire and something deeper you couldn’t fully grasp due to the kiss and his presence. “From the moment I saw you with William... I knew there was something about you, something I couldn’t ignore, something that made me think of you as his father.”

Your eyes met his, and for a moment, you felt completely exposed, as if he could see through every one of your defenses.

He tried to move closer again, but this time, you were the one who pulled back slightly, reason finally taking control over the desire bubbling inside you.

“Jay, this can’t happen...” you whispered, trying to maintain composure, though the words sounded weak even to your own ears.

Jay didn’t let go. His hold on your waist remained firm, and his eyes studied you, searching for any sign that you truly wanted to stop this.

“Why not? What are you afraid of, [...]?” His voice was a whisper, but there was an urgency in it, a need to understand why you were pulling away when it was clear that you both wanted the same thing.

Before you could respond, the sound of the front door opening echoed through the mansion, followed by footsteps rapidly approaching the office. A soft knock on the door made both of you freeze, and you felt your heart race as you recognized the butler’s voice outside.

“Mr. Jay, Miss Eunjen has arrived... she says she’s here to discuss the details of the divorce.”

The mention of his ex-wife was like a bucket of cold water, bringing reality crashing back.

Jay let out a disgusted growl, his jaw tensing as he turned his gaze toward the door, visibly irritated by the interruption. The tension in his body was palpable, and though he still hadn’t released you, you could sense that something had changed in him.

“Always the damned divorce...” Jay muttered, more to himself than to you, before finally letting you go, though not without leaving a hand on your arm, as if he wasn’t quite ready to let you go completely.

“[...]” Jay whispered, looking at you with a mix of frustration and desire, “this isn’t over. I’m not going to let whatever’s happening between us end like this.”

You felt heat rise to your cheeks at the intensity of his words, but you knew there was no time to discuss it.

The fear of being discovered, combined with the reality of the situation, was too great.

“Jay... you should go,” you whispered, your voice trembling as you tried to stay calm. “I... I need to check on William.”

Jay nodded, though clearly reluctantly, but before releasing you completely, he leaned in one last time, placing a firm, possessive kiss on your neck, right at the base of your throat.

The gesture was so intimate, so charged with repressed emotions, that it made you close your eyes for a moment, wanting to prolong that contact.

“This isn’t over, [...], not for me... and I hope not for you either,” he murmured against your skin before finally pulling away, his eyes burning with a promise as he headed for the door to face Eunjen.

As Jay walked away, you stood there, leaning against the office door, trying to regain your composure, knowing that what had just happened would change everything, but not quite knowing how.

메모 ! 📌ㅤ⸻ㅤ I was absent for a bit because of my bad internet, and I finally finished some requests and perfected the second and last writing of “everything, you are my everything” !!!!

아이디어 !ㅤ⸻ㅤI'm very short of ideas lately, so feel free to leave me any requests! <⁠(⁠￣⁠︶⁠￣⁠)⁠>

ㅤㅤ All credits to @angelsfat3 / @foschiamara.

If you liked it you can like, follow me or reblog!! <3

[ireadwithmyears]

Absent mindedly making me want you

Pairing: Ellie Williams / female reader

Word count : 12 K 💀 I swear it’s worth it I just really wanted a well rounded story even if this is just a one shot

Summary : 

Due to her first-hand experience when it comes to drowning, Ellie takes it upon herself to teach you how to swim. Something that neither of you had anticipated, however, was how intimate this endeavour would be, resulting in a day filled with unresolved sexual tension, that, unsurprisingly and inevitably comes to ahead

Tags/warnings : established relationship, soo much sexual tension, smut (18+, MDNI), porn with minor plot, dom/sub undertones, soft dom Ellie, submissive reader, inexperienced reader (first time), light hair pulling, unsafe lesbian sex, fingering, oral (F receiving), face sitting, lots of dirty talk(bc you cannot convince me that Ellie doesn’t have an absolutely filthy mouth), praise kink, overstimulation, forced orgasm, multiple orgasms, pussy slapping (just once), aftercare, fluff, no use of Y/N

“I’m sorry, wait, hold on. You’re telling me you’ve never learned how to swim?”

The settlement of Jackson has been dealing with, hopefully, the last of its winter storms for the year. Spring had crept its way around the corner, shining its promisingly hopeful rays of warm sunlight for a few, blissfully beautiful, but in the end, all two short days

But then, in what must be mother nature’s idea of a harmless joke, it was crudely snatched away and replaced with icy winds that seemed to settle within your very core, leaving you shivering long after you went inside to get warm. Wyoming had been hit with a blizzard that had caught everyone so off guard, that Jackson was ill-equipped and unprepared to handle it, leaving most of the community snowed in; workloads being much reduced and limited to essential services for the time being, until the snow abated.

This is how you and a group of friends found yourselves in Jesse’s living room, cradling mugs of hot chocolate, enjoying the warmth that seeped into your fingertips, and making a blanket fort as if you were still school children at a sleepover. The snowy days and lack of work seemed to bring out a childish side to everyone, which is how you found yourself engaged in a game of never have I ever, sitting in a tight circle with your friends and girlfriend who, up until a few seconds ago, had been absent mindedly playing with your hair, your head resting against her shoulder, where you had been quite content to stay.

But, she had now pulled back, looking at you with her eyebrows raised, lips quirked down quizzically, as if in thought. You look around at your friends, taking note of everyone else who’s never learned. You’re relieved to find that you’re not alone in this. As expected, the Jackson old-timers, the few of you who have been settled here almost your whole lives, or at least, as long as you could remember, had never encountered an environment that required the ability to swim.

“Nope, it’s never been necessary.” You shrug. 

She tilts her head, thinking, a few wisps of auburn hair escaping her ponytail as she regards you, teeth lightly grazing the bottom of her lip as she appears to be calculating an idea in her mind.

“As soon as it gets warm enough, I’m taking you out, and I'm gonna teach you. Joel taught me because he said that I would never know when it was a skill that would become necessary for me to have until it’s too late,” she says, nodding to herself decisively.

“Ah, I see your dad‘s passed off his overprotectiveness onto you,” you smirk, rolling your eyes fondly.

She hits you with a pillow for that. 

“Quiet, you,” she says in mock offense.

She pokes your belly lightly and you instinctively jump back with a surprised squeal. You hear the quiet amusement of your friends, Jesse barely containing a snort as he watches. You’re about to utter a retort when she reaches out, pulling you against her, settling you on her lap, where you happily go. 

When she presses a chaste kiss to your lips, hand settling at the back of your neck, fingers brushing against your skin, leaving goosebumps to form beneath their eager caresses, any kind of argument dies on your lips. Resistance melts as if it hadn’t been there in the first place, and all thoughts scatter like butterflies, only landing on the one thing that you care to focus on. 

It’s her, with her teasing lips and wandering hands, that explore and touch you as if she wants to know you, to memorize you, like you’re her well-kept and cherished secret. She is the only thing that surrounds your mind, the only one who holds your attention so easily, and it takes you a moment to shake yourself free of this haze. It’s strange, and euphoric, a kind of feeling that you’ve never felt before, and you find that you like it – instantly craving more the second that her lips leave yours.

She's kissed you plenty of times before, and though it’s always been an enjoyable experience for you, it’s never felt like that. You decide to file that information away for now; you’ll sort out whatever the fuck these new feelings are later. 

When you do come back to yourself, your head nestled against her shoulder, her arms wrapped around you as she looks down at you with warm, soft eyes, you think, yeah, you’ll let her teach you how to swim. You’ll let her do whatever she goddamn pleases, as long as it means that she’ll keep kissing you like that, and bringing out those good kind of butterflies that flutter in your stomach whenever she’s close to you.

*

To your surprise, Ellie makes good on her promise at the earliest opportunity.

In your experience, life is full of making plans and dreams that, more often than not, fall through. Even here, even in Jackson, where the walls are fortified and everyone is protected, the act of planning future endeavours is a luxury.

Spring finally comes , for real this time, with its customary blend of warmer weather that makes everyone instinctively turn their faces towards the sun, tentatively brushing its heat against their skin. And then, in complete juxtaposition, rain that starts in a slight drizzle that quickly descends into a downpour that sends those who’d ventured outside to appreciate the sunlight running back inside, scrambling to find cover, while quietly grumbling that they wish it was summer already, if only so that they could be freed from this topsy-turvy weather. 

Humans are funny like that, you suppose. Never fully able to live in the moment, always wishing for the next season the second spring reveals its more wild side. They forget that the scorching heat of summer will have them complaining and wishing for autumn to come faster in a few months.

Nonetheless, it’s early summer, and you find yourself riding astride Ellie’s mare, Hazel, whose step is light and carefree, tale gently swishing in the warm breeze as you make your way to a clearing with a lake, a few miles out from Jackson’s gates. You’ve taken up the rear position, head resting against your girlfriend's back, arms wrapped around her waist.

From her position, she can’t see the expression on your face, the way you worry. Your bottom lip is between your teeth until it starts to bleed, because quite honestly, you’re nervous. Your instinct is to hide your feelings from her, because it feels silly.  “A tough girl like you all freaked out over a little water?” You can almost hear her snark in your head. Logically, you know she wouldn’t say that, not to you, at least. But you can’t help but wonder if she’d think it. 

You also know, however, that the minute you’re off this horse and she turns to look at you, she’ll read right through any bullshit or lies you come up with in an instant. Ellie’s just that kind of person; able to read right through people without them even having to say a word. So, as the bird chatter accompanies the beat of Hazel’s hooves against the ground, you speak, softly, tentatively, half-wishing that she won’t hear, almost hoping that your words will be carried off in the slight breeze that ruffles the braid against your back, delicately freeing strands of your hair.

“You know, I’m actually kinda fucking scared to do this,” you figure if you’re going to admit this, it’s just best to rip the Band-Aid off. 

She holds the reins one-handed as her other comes to squeeze your wrist gently. 

“Can you tell me why?”

You sigh, feeling your cheeks heat with embarrassment as you rest your chin against her shoulder. She’s so warm and steady, confident and self-assured in a way that you couldn’t even attempt to replicate. 

She senses your unease, moving her thumb beneath the thin material of your sweater, stroking against the skin of your inner wrist. She lets it rest at the point where she feels your pulse lightly fluttering beneath her. 

“Hey.” Her voice is soft, encouraging, “Talk to me, Sweetheart, you’ve got absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about.” 

Her thumb resumes its movement, stroking back-and-forth along the inside of your wrist, soothing away the knot that’s begun to tie itself in your stomach.

“It’s stupid, I know. It’s just, I’m scared that I’m gonna drown, or something dumb like that,” you roll your eyes, feeling a little bit pathetic. 

“It’s not stupid,” you’re not surprised that she’s come to your defence so quickly, but the conviction in her voice gives you pause.

She continues, “I almost drowned, once. Well, I guess it wasn’t almost, I did drown, though I don’t remember the details. It was before Joel had taught me how to swim, probably what made him decide that he had to. But, when he did, it took me the longest time to get over my fear. Every time I so much as touched the water, my mind would bring me back to that moment where I thought I was about to die.”

Her voice is sheepish, nonchalant, but you scoot closer to her on the saddle nonetheless, wrapping your arms just a little tighter around her waist.

“My point is, if you would have seen me when I was fourteen, the way Joel would have to coax me into the water bit by bit, you wouldn’t believe I’m the same person now. Now, I can be assured that whenever I go into the water, nothing’s going to happen to me that I can’t handle.” 

She takes your hand in hers, and her voice is completely serious when she speaks now.

“Baby, you know I’m not gonna let anything happen to you, right?” 

In spite of your nerves, you know the answer to this question immediately. It’s not even a question, really, you know without even having to think about it that she’ll keep you safe, protect you with her life if necessary, and you nod aggressively, even before she finishes speaking.

“I know, Elles.”

She gives your hand a squeeze. 

“Good, because if my 14-year-old freshly traumatized from actually drowning ass can learn how to swim, I am fully confident in your abilities.”

Hazel trots on, and for the first time since you headed out today, you feel a genuine smile pulling the corners of your lips upward, your laughter accompanying the birdsong as you ride on.

*

“That’s it, just lean back into me, I gotcha.”

She’s teaching you how to float on your back, first, and as you lean against her and lower yourself into the water, you swear you feel the peak of one of her nipples, hardened from the cold, poking through the flimsy material of her tank top, brushing against your back as you submerge yourself. You have to fight to keep your expression neutral, trying not to betray anything on your face. If she asks why you’re blushing, you’ll just say it’s because of the heat.

Her hand holds you up, pressing into the small of your back as she instructs you, and it’s nice, the heat that radiates from the warmth of her skin. You feel it through your tank top, and maybe it’s because the water is cold and it’s heightening all of your senses, or maybe it’s because you’re in a pair of underwear and a tank top, feeling very exposed to your girlfriend in a way that you’ve never been with anyone, but you’re getting goosebumps, and you know for a fact that it has nothing to do with you being cold.

You hope to yourself that the feeling of having her hands on you will get easier throughout the day, because for some inexplicable reason, the feeling of her hand pressing against you like this is making it hard to focus on what she’s actually saying.

*

You quickly discover that it does not get easier as the day goes on. 

It actually gets so much fucking harder to bear as the sun begins to sail higher in the sky.

When she’s about to teach you how to kick, her hands ghost over your hips, making you jump. 

“Sorry, hun, I should’ve asked,” she apologizes softly.

You can’t bring yourself to look at her, and have to temper your voice to not sound eager as you respond. “No, you’re good, go ahead, I'm just cold, that’s all.”

When her hands caress your sides before settling against your hips, your teeth sink into the inside of your cheek, trying to contain the gasp that wants to escape. 

Is she truly that fucking unaware of what she’s doing to you? 

The skin where her fingers had trailed over tingles, and you have to give your head a slight shake to clear it, because that touch, regardless of how innocently meant it might’ve been to her, suddenly makes you want to get on your knees and beg her to touch you like that again.

You want more.

*

You learn the mechanics of how to propel yourself through the water, arms and legs separately. When it comes time to put the two together, Ellie eases you onto your stomach. The water is still shallow, your toes can still touch the ground. This was as deep as you’d be going today, she had told you, making you feel relieved.

“I’m just gonna put a hand on your stomach to hold you up. You’re still gonna have my help, I’m right here,” you’re stomach muscles tense when her hand lightly presses against it. She must think you’re nervous, because she gently strokes her thumb up and down between your rib cage, in a way that should be reassuring, but in reality, makes heat radiate from between your legs. You’re grateful that she can’t see your face, because the small pool of wetness that blossoms against your panties is undeniable now, and it makes your cheeks heat.

Okay, so you have to admit it now. You’re horny. In spite of the fact that you’ve never had sex and you haven’t been ready to take that step before today, as you slowly move through the water, feeling her hand pressing against your stomach, so close but so, so far from where you want her to be, you know that you want her, in a way that you’ve never wanted anyone before. 

“At a girl, just like that,” she says encouragingly, and you swear you can feel your thigh muscles clenching involuntarily, thoughts drifting to a very different scenario in which she’d utter those words.

*

It’s late afternoon, the sun is high in the sky, warming your shoulders as you stand in the water. You’ve long ago adjusted to its cool, murky depths, and you’re not on edge anymore. 

At least you weren’t, until Ellie suggests that to finish off the day, you try moving a little bit on your own. Your eyebrows raise, in obvious alarm, and her hands settle on your shoulders, quick to reassure you.

“You won’t have to go far, I’ll be right in front of you, I promise, all you need to do is just keep coming towards me.” 

You tilt your head, considering. Yes, you’ve grown accustomed to the water, but whenever you’ve been moving, she’s always had a hold on you, and you felt safe, knowing that there wasn’t even a chance that you would go under. 

Seeing your still evident hesitation, Ellie steps closer, a hand grazing against your waist as she presses her lips to your forehead briefly, before she speaks, her voice low and teasing against your ear.

“Can you do it for me?” She says softly. Her fingers are tracing slow, enticing circles over your waist, soothing you, but making you feel all worked up at the same time. 

She’s so close that you can feel her lips brush against your ear when she speaks, and you can’t hide the shiver that runs down your spine. You’ve lost the ability to form coherent thought, for the moment, and you have to mentally kick yourself to push your mind back into any semblance of reality. God, if she asks you like that, you’ll do anything.

You don’t say that, though. You only nod meekly, not trusting your voice to be controlled when you speak. 

When her hand gives your hip an appreciative squeeze, you feel her breath ghost against the curve of your neck as she speaks. “Good girl,” she practically purrs, a quiet, low hum against your ear that makes your knees buckle so hard that you have to dig your feet into the sand beneath you so that you don’t faceplant into the water.

When she pulls back, taking slow, tentative steps away from you, she knows that you’re watching her every move. She can feel your eyes burning into her, the further she moves away, nerves making you fidget with the hem of your top. When she’s several metres away, she reaches out a hand, beckoning.

“Okay, c’mere, Baby Girl.” 

Her voice is low, persuasive, encouraging you forward. But it still takes you a solid 30 seconds of anxiously staring at her before you actually begin to move. She stands, arms folded, patiently waiting for you to give in, because she knows that sooner or later, you will.

She’s not that far away, not really. She still would easily be able to reach her arms out, steadying you if somehow, even in this shallow water, you managed to bring yourself under. Still, when you kick back, and you no longer feel the assurance of the soft sand against your feet, or Ellie‘s arm wrapped securely around your stomach to hold you up, you freeze. She notices instantly, and her voice is quick to call you back, bringing your racing heart back down with a few, gentle words.

“Hey, eyes on me.” 

You swim forward, it’s unsure and hesitant, but at least you’re moving. You can’t always keep your eyes on her, but when your head is lowered to the water, you can always hear her voice, which she uses to get you to keep going. 

“That’s it, almost there.” 

She eggs you on, making your limbs instinctively move faster, cutting through the water with an almost desperate urge to get to her. You’re reaching for her, arms ready to wrap around her waist when she meets you halfway, scooping you up into her arms.

“That’s my girl,” she whispers against your lips, cradling the back of your head as she pulls you in. Your eyes flutter shut, and you can’t help the small sigh that she elicits from you as she lowers her head to kiss you. Her lips meet yours in a slow, soft caress, searing as her touch sets your skin alight with heat. Instinctively, only half aware of what you’re doing, your legs wrap around her waist, desperately pulling yourself against her with a sudden need that is too strong to be contained.

When her hand, tangled in your hair, gently pulls, forcing your head back as she deepens the kiss, your mouth falling open as her tongue teases past your lips, you are unable to hold back the little moan that escapes you, scalp tingling at the sensation of her fingers, curled against strands of your wet hair, holding tight, keeping you exactly where she wants you. 

She’s so close, you realize. Your legs wrapped around her like this, your heat pressed so near to hers. It’s enough to send your thoughts reeling. Every nerve ending in your body is alive with want and need. 

Her hand makes a slow path, warm, delicate fingers journeying from your waist all the way up to the peak of your breast, leaving a trail of goosebumps to form in their wake. Her hand rests against you, leaving you warm and wanting, and just when you think that you can’t handle any more, she moves her thumb in a slow, deliberate caress over your perked, hardened nipple, which, at this point, your tank top, with its thin, soaked through material that clings to your every curve, leaves little up to her imagination. She can see you, she can see all of you. Your breath shutters, the smallest sound of want, of need, of desperation escaping your throat in a choked, pleading moan that has your back arching.

And that’s when Hazel makes her displeasure and boredom known, letting out a loud, displeased nay of indignation as she stamps her hooves against the ground.

The noise is so sudden, so out of the blue, disrupting the sounds of the water gently lapping around you, and the ambiance of nature that you’ve grown quite accustomed to hearing over the past few hours, that it makes you both jump. You startle so hard that you nearly fall into the waters below, jolting back as your head whips around to discover the source of the noise. Ellie’s arms are secure, though, you feel her adjusting her hold on you, wrapping them around you tighter. She too frantically searches the area around you for signs of trouble.

When you realize that you’re in no imminent danger, and that it’s just Hazel being her typical, dramatic self, you both look at each other, and simultaneously, slow smiles creep across your faces. She can feel you begin to shake with laughter. All the adrenaline leaves your body in a relieved, sudden rush that escapes with the quiet, barely contained snort that you desperately try to hold back. After that, it’s over. Ellie’s face buries against your hair as you both begin to laugh uncontrollably.

You feel her breathy, relieved sigh ruffle your hair. “We should probably go see what her problem is – knowing Hazel, a mosquito probably landed on her and she freaked the fuck out. God, that horse is such a drama queen.” 

She rolls her eyes, but there’s an underlying affection that she can’t keep out of her voice, even if she tries.

“Probably saw us kissing and was offended. Maybe she’s homophobic,” you quip, chuckling. 

Ellie gasps in mock horror. “I practically raised that horse, there’s no fucking way,” you both laugh as she begins to move towards the shore, you cradled against her with your head on her shoulder.

*

Riding back to Jackson when you’re extremely sexually worked up, it turns out, is no fun. 

Your girlfriend, as much as you love her, is doing nothing to help the situation. 

In general, Ellie prefers to ride horses that are the most chaotic, and that carry attitudes that make them almost borderline untrainable. She says it’s because she can empathize with them, she listens to them in a way that no one else does. 

You think, privately, that it’s because it scares the shit out of Joel. He lives in constant fear that Hazel is going to throw Ellie off, sending his already accident prone daughter home with a broken leg and a concussion. You swear, Ellie enjoys getting a rise out of him, making his heart race with all of the reckless shit that she does.

Hazel has been sitting still for too long, and is now thoroughly enjoying the freedom of being able to trot about; she tries to take advantage of it regardless of the cargo on her back, making for a bumpy ride. 

You’re riding in front, this time, and every time you hit an unavoidable bump, Ellie rests her hands on your hips. She claims that she’s doing it to keep you steady, make sure that you don’t fall off the horse. but, you know better. You know an ulterior motive when you see one. The way that her hands linger, fingers slowly teasing At the edge of your still damp top, drawing slow, light circles against the exposed skin she finds beneath, suggesting that she has other plans in mind. It makes you shiver.

“You cold, baby?” Her voice is low against your ear, the unexpected proximity making you jump. She cannot be serious. Even though it’s late afternoon, evening fast approaching, the day is still scorching, hence why you’ve opted out of wearing your sweater on the way back. You didn’t even want to put on shorts over your damp underwear, but alas, you still had some shred of modesty left, not wanting to make whoever was stationed to guard Jackson’s gates uncomfortable.

When her arms wrap around your waist, pulling you flush against her, you swear that you can feel her hips slowly moving as she grinds against you suggestively. Her lips brush against the bare skin of your shoulder, lingering as her warm breath ghosts against your skin, caressing against your neck with its heat. You can’t hold back your gasp at the feeling.

One of her hands travels down, settling against your knee with a gentle squeeze. 

“How’s that, Baby Girl, is that better?”

God! 

If she doesn’t fuck you soon, you swear you’re gonna kill her. Or, at this rate, she’s gonna kill you first with the way she’s sending your heart racing like that.

*

If you had thought that getting home, changing into a fresh pair of clothes, and giving yourself the chance to calm your racing heart would magically put an end to whatever was stirring up inside of you, you were sadly incorrect in your assumptions.

You’re sitting on the couch in your living room, wearing a sundress that falls to your knees because it’s light and you enjoy the slight breeze that it creates when you move. It flutters around your legs gently in the humid air. It might provide next to no relief at all, but it’s still better than nothing. 

Ellie sits across from you in an armchair. Without even looking, you can feel her staring at you, eyes burning into you with a restrained and tempered want. You suspect that she’s holding it back, now wondering if she’s crossed a boundary today and made you uncomfortable. 

That couldn’t be further from the truth, but Ellie is the type of person who acts on impulse, then completely over analyzes and over thinks her actions later, until she’s convinced herself that she’s fucked something up. She’s so bold, so confident in the things she does in the moment. But, in the end, she’s still someone who sometimes needs you to explicitly communicate and validate what she does after the fact. Regardless of how her confidence is so vast, and can sometimes be mistaken for being cocky, on the inside, she’s deeply insecure and needs reassurance.

Glancing up at her through your lashes, seeing the way that she twists and fidgets with the hair elastic on her wrist, the slight frown on her face, the almost guilty way her eyes flit away from you when she sees you looking, you know that she needs that right now, and you fully intend to not just give that to her, but encourage her forward. 

Setting down the book that you weren’t actually reading, just trying to distract yourself with and completely failing, you rise to your feet, and as you move to her, she looks up at you with a smile, slipping back into its place effortlessly.

“Hey, baby, what’s up?” 

Her voice is low and soft, and the way her eyes skim over you, pausing at where your dress falls, the hem barely skimming your knees, makes heat flush at the back of your neck.

“Want somethin’.” 

You admit, crawling into her lap, bracing your hands on her shoulders.

“Yeah? What’s that?” 

She quirks a brow, and the way her eyes smoulder as she looks at you makes you nervous, stomach fluttering with anxious butterflies as she looks intently at you. 

You’ve got her full attention, and now that you do, you don’t know what to do with it. You were fully ready to take the lead on this, but at the end of the day, you’re still shy and inexperienced, and she’s everything that you’re not. To be honest, it’s intimidating, knowing her wealth of experience that you couldn’t even attempt to match. 

The insistent butterflies take flight in your stomach; you decide that the only way forward is by pure instinct, and the blind hope that you won’t embarrass yourself too much.

You lean forward slowly, hesitating slightly until, with understanding, Ellie’s hand comes up to cradle the back of your head, encouraging you the rest of the way forward until your lips meet hers, and suddenly, you forget exactly what your plan originally was, if you even really had one in the first place. It easily slips out of your mind as you melt against her, effortlessly letting her take the lead. 

Her fingers brush against your lower back, holding you securely against her. This isn’t like your usual, every day kiss, one that starts off slow and gentle. Her lips are insistent, pressing against yours with a desperate, persistent need. Her fingers absently brush against your scalp, running through your hair before cupping the back of your neck, the pressure just firm enough.

All you know is her. Her lips, claiming your mouth with a possessiveness that makes you ache for her inside. Her tongue, swiping over your lips, making you gasp slightly. As your lips part for her, you hear the low, satisfied sound she breathes against you as her tongue pushes past your lips, exploring your mouth with a hunger that you’ve never sensed in her before.

Her thigh pushes between your legs, parting them with ease and settling between them, grazing against your clothed heat. When her hand schemes down your lower back, caressing over your ass, before pressing against it with a firm squeeze, you can’t resist the way your hips buck against her, desperately chasing the friction, unable to hold back the small whimper when you’re clit presses against the rough denim of her cut-offs. 

The sound seems to startle you so much that you still your movements, eyes going wide as Ellie pulls back to look at you. She doesn’t even bother holding back the smirk that overtakes her features.

“Oh, so that’s what you want.” 

Her green eyes darken with want, voice low and gravelly with desire as she studies you, perched on her lap with a needy expression behind your innocent eyes.  Her fingers brush against your hips, teasing over your skin.

Heat flushes against your collarbone, spreading to warm your cheeks as you try to look down, wanting to escape the scrutiny of her piercing gaze. She anticipates your movement, and stops you with a hand coming to curl beneath your chin, making a soft noise of disapproval.

“Look at me, pretty girl, and tell me what you want,” 

Her voice is still soft, still gentle, but there’s a warning edge that’s crept into it, an effortless authority, that sends a jolt straight through you, making your already throbbing clit pulse with anticipation. Her fingers nudge your chin upwards, holding firmly as she directs your eyes to meet hers, smouldering with uncontained lust as she watches you. 

“You.” 

Your answer comes out in barely a breath, barely a whisper. 

“I want you.” 

You feel like your response sounds ridiculous.

It sounds small.

It sounds completely inadequate.

And yet, when Ellie’s hand snakes beneath your dress, fingers toying with the waistband of your panties, her lips brushing against your ear as she says low, “that, sweet girl, I would be happy to oblige.” 

She flexes her thigh up against your heat, rubbing over your swollen clit, making you cry out in surprise.

*

Her shirt hits the floor with a dull thump, pulled off by your eager and curious hands. You want to see her. You want to touch her. You want...

But now that it’s off and she’s looking down at you like that, your brain catches up to your body. What are you doing? What are you supposed to do? You don’t know how to do this. You don’t know where to put your hands, and the idea of fumbling around and embarrassing yourself is enough to make you nervous.

She sees the moment you begin to question yourself and overthink it, in the way that you catch your bottom lip between your teeth, the way your hand flexes, curling into itself with anxiety.  

“Hey,” she says softly, waiting for your eyes to meet hers. Her hands caress up and down the sides of your arms, pulling you from the spiral that your mind was going in, bringing you back to earth with a soothing touch. 

“I know that this is your first time, and I just want you to know that I don’t expect anything of you tonight. The only thing I want is to make you feel good. So just, let me do that, okay?” 

When she leans in, arms wrapping around you, and her lips press against your neck in a slow, seductive kiss, she can feel the shiver that runs down your spine, and she makes a note to remember that you’re sensitive there.

You feel her lips close to your ear as she speaks. 

“Just let me take care of my girl tonight.” 

Her hand schemes down your side, fingers drawing teasing circles over your hip. Your eyes close and your breath comes in a sharp, unsteady inhale and all you can do is look at her, eyes hooded, and say in a shaky voice, “please.”

You feel her low chuckle against your neck. 

“Such pretty manners,” she hums against your skin, before you feel the gentle graze of teeth join her lips, delivering a small, sharp sting that you imagine will leave a mark. 

This thought doesn’t scare you in the way that you thought it would. Your first thought isn’t of how on earth you’re going to cover this up tomorrow. The idea that there will be physical evidence of her, of what she’s doing to you, that there will be a reminder of it in the morning turns you on, sending a thrill through you. 

Her tongue replaces where her teeth had just been, gently soothing over the sting. “Good girl,” she breathes, hand coming up to fiddle with the spaghetti strap of your dress. “I want this off,”

She waits for you to nod your consent, and then she’s sliding the straps off your shoulders, letting it fall. It pools around your waist in a soft brush of its material.

Fingers brush over your stomach, and you shiver with anticipation, already knowing the path they intend to travel over your skin. Her hands graze over your ribs, before she curls them around the curves of your breasts. She looks down at them, cradled in her hands, and her lips curl upward. 

Warm, experienced hands massage and knead your breasts, gentle caresses and squeezes encouraging, coaxing your nipples to harden beneath her touch. Her thumb brushes over one of the hardening buds, and you gasp at even the slightest attention. She seems to relish in drawing sounds from you, her index finger joining her thumb, as she rolls your perked nipple between her fingers, adding the slightest pinch. 

“You’re so fuckin pretty, you know that? The site of these,” she tweaks your other nipple, making your breath stutter, “peeking through your shirt at the lake was teasing me all day.” 

Her face buries against your neck, she becomes rougher, more insistent. Still slow and attentive, but there’s a possessive edge to it as she leaves a trail of marks down your throat, your collarbone. 

You love every second of getting to see this new side of Ellie, one that you haven’t seen before. The way that she’s intently listening to your body, finding out exactly how to touch you in a way  that brings out those little gasps and mules that are like music to her ears, you want to see this side of her more often.

She’s enjoying the sight of her marks on you just as much as you are; a thrill runs through her, knowing that everyone will see that you belong to her.

She pauses toying with your nipple as her hand falls to your thigh, letting her breath graze against your skin, before she leans in, lips encircling the pebbled bud with a gentle suck. You whimper as her teeth barely graze your skin, tongue swirling over the small bud teasingly. She makes an appreciative sound against you while her fingers brush the bare skin of your inner thigh. 

Her thumb teases over the seam of your panties, and you swear that you can feel her lips pull into a smirk as she feels the evident wetness pooling there. When she grazes a knuckle over your clothed clit, using a featherlight touch, your hips instinctively buck, you’re so worked up. 

“Ellie,” your cheeks flush at the way that she’s got you whining for her with just one touch to wear you’ve been craving her to be. “Please, I, I need you to touch me there.” 

“Aww, you’re so pretty when you beg for me,” she coos, two fingers caressing over your heat. 

Your head falls back, eyes closing as you try to suppress the whimper that fights to escape at her teasing.

“Ellie, please,” and if you weren’t trying to beg before, you definitely are now.

She tilts her head, a slightly pleased expression crossing her kiss swollen lips as she looks at you, thoroughly unravelled before she’s even fully gotten you undressed.

“That’s all you had to say, Princess.”

Her voice is low and smooth, calm and effortless, in complete juxtaposition to her next actions, because suddenly, your dress is being yanked the rest of the way down, Ellie tossing it to the floor in a careless heap. She lifts you with ease, flipping you around so that your back is pressed against her bare chest. Her arms curl around you, holding you close to her, fingers trailing down your stomach, scheming over the waistband of your panties. One finger hooks under, and she pauses, voice suddenly soft.

“Can I take these off, baby girl?” Her finger strokes along the bare skin that she’s found beneath your panties, just above your mound, inviting, but not moving lower. 

“Ellie,” you say with growing desperation. She’s teased you all day, and you can’t take much more of it. You’ve reached the end of your rope, and you can tell, without even having to look at her, that she’s fully aware of it, she’s just enjoying teasing you a little longer, dragging out the moment for even just a few seconds more. She’s so close to where you need her, but not close enough, and you need her to bridge the distance. “You can do whatever you want,” your head falls back against her shoulder, auburn hair tickling against your face as she leans down to whisper.

“Don’t give me any ideas, princess. You might regret it.” 

Her words make you shutter, but, nonetheless, she pulls, and in a matter of seconds, she’s sending your panties to join your dress on the floor, with a practiced flick of her wrist.

She doesn’t waste much time now; her hands gently part your thighs. 

“Spread your legs for me, Pretty Girl, I want to see all of you.” 

She coaxes, not that you need much urging. You feel her legs cage over yours, wrapping around them, holding them open for her. Fingers ghost over your curls, dipping between your lips. She collects your wetness, fingers gliding effortlessly up to your clit, coating it in your own arousal. 

“Barely touched you, and you’re already soaked for me,” two fingers press against your swollen clit, drawing slow, easy circles over your heat, already making your walls clench around nothing.

Her other hand moves, pausing to give an affectionate pinch to one of your perked breasts, making you gasp in surprise, your hips instinctively jolting forward, pushing against the hand that continues to massage, tease, and press against your clit. It continues its path downward, caressing over your hip, your inner thigh. 

Long, tapered fingers dip between your folds, tentatively swirling around your entrance, gathering the wetness that’s collected there. You don’t realize you’re begging until, achingly slowly, one of her fingers brushes over your tight, glistening hole. She doesn’t push it forward, only curling it slightly to pet at your entrance. 

“F-fuck, please,” your head falls back against her shoulder, and your hips push forward, trying to take her inside, but to no avail.

“Such a needy girl,” she murmurs, smirking at the way that you nod. 

She’s got you so desperate that you’ll agree to anything she says; you won’t even try to deny it. It would be pointless, anyways. All she has to do is look down and see the way that your hips are bucking against her to know that you would be lying through your teeth. Nonetheless, she gently eases a finger inside you and you let out a long, tremulous breath as she pushes her finger, easing it all the way inside until she’s down to her knuckle.

She’s watching carefully for your reactions and she can feel how tight you are around her; she doesn’t want to cause you any pain. But when she tentatively, curiously, crooks her finger slightly upward, searching, a jolt runs through you, your body trembling and hips jerking forward, chasing the contact. It’s too much, and it’s not enough, and you need more. 

“Fuck, I, Ellie, I I want,” your hands grip onto her thighs tightly. 

She presses a soft kiss to the side of your neck before whispering,“That’s it, baby, use your words. Tell me what you need,” her finger pumps in and out at an unhurried, languid pace, barely grazing over that spot that you so desperately need her to touch. 

“Need more of you inside me,” you whimper, unable to keep the desperate edge from creeping into your voice. A second finger joins the first, slowly pushing through your entrance. You immediately feel the stretch, unfamiliar to having someone else’s fingers there, but you’re quickly distracted, because as soon as both fingers are pushing into you, she increases the pressure against your throbbing clit, fingers drawing rough, tight circles over your swollen bud. 

The sound you make is high and uncontained.

Calloused fingers brush against your inner walls, clenching around them as Ellie stretches you out. Her fingers curl, a slight beckoning motion as she easily finds that spot inside of you. The pads of her fingers press firmly against it, fingers insistently petting at your center with small, precise strokes against your sweet spot. She's hitting that spot in a way that you’ve never been able to accomplish on your own. 

You’re seeing stars, because she’s everywhere you want and need her to be, and now, the only thing you can do is grind your hips down against her fingers that are so effortlessly toying with you. 

It comes out of nowhere, the coil that eagerly begins to tighten in your stomach. Your toes curl with anticipation, and your hands are gripping onto her so tightly. You’re pretty sure that you’re the one who’s going to be leaving bruises now. Her fingers continue to thrust in and out of your weeping cunt, and maintain the relentless pressure against your clit.

Ellie’s chin rests against your shoulder, watching attentively, and if you could see her, you’d see how utterly enthralled she is at how much of a mess she’s made you, eyes heavy as she watches her fingers plunge in and out of your cunt. Her voice is low against your ear, rough, commanding when she speaks.

“That’s it, Baby Girl, I want you to fuck yourself on my fingers and cum for me.” 

You’ve always experienced orgasms as a gradual build, a wave, gently cresting against the shore. So, the way the coil in your stomach abruptly snaps, almost an instant after Ellie finishes speaking, has you taken completely by surprise. She’s attached her lips back onto your neck, sucking a mark just against your pulse point, which she feels fluttering rapidly beneath her tongue. 

There’s the stuttering of hips accompanied by a sharp cry and Ellie feels your walls tighten around her fingers, unceasing in her ministrations even as your orgasm barrels through you. 

“Good girl, fucking give it to me,” she nearly growls, as her fingers continue to fuck you through your orgasm. All you can do is whimper uselessly, rocking your hips against her hand, as thrills ignite every inch of your body, making you tremble all over. 

When you come down from your high, you’re collapsed against her chest, and she’s slowly easing off the pressure. 

The first thing you notice is that you don’t feel the same as you usually would if you had just done this by yourself. For some reason, you thought that you were a one and done kind of girl. Usually you orgasm once, and then you take a nap, feeling for the most part satisfied. But as her fingers slide out of you, leaving you feeling empty, all you can think is that you want more.

Then, Ellie’s holding up her glistening fingers, slick with your arousal, in front of her face. You turn to watch her, curious, as she slides them into her mouth, licking them clean. She hums, and you raise a brow questioningly as she looks down at you, her eyes bearing an expression that is almost predatory in its intensity.

“What?” you ask, already feeling goosebumps rising along your skin.

“Nothing,” she shrugs, shaking her head slightly. “It’s just, now that I’ve had a taste of you, I want more.” You turn fully to face her, lips curving into a smirk. Your hand trails over her breasts, and she looks at you with interest.

“Please,” you’re still breathless, and your voice is still unsteady.

“I want you too.”

*

“Atta girl, just like that.” 

Admittedly, as much as you’ve had countless fantasies involving sitting on Ellie’s face, the prospect of actually doing it, as much as you want to, gives you pause. She’s carried you up to the bed, at some point along the way, the rest of her clothes came off, you’ll probably find them scattered along the hallway later. But that doesn’t matter right now.

What matters is that you’re hovering over her face, looking down at her while trying not to look nervous and out of your comfort zone, which you totally are, and she obviously isn’t buying it. Gentle hands reach for you, holding your hips and pulling you against her easily. 

“All the way down, Honey, that’s it,” she coaxes, easing you down onto her. “You’re good, you’re not gonna kill me,” her hand caresses up and down your side, soothing, even as you feel her warm breath ghosting over your heat, making your cheeks flush, as you look down at how close she is to you.

“I gotcha’, Pretty Girl, just relax,” her voice is smooth, assured, confident, in a way that makes your muscles relax in spite of yourself.

That’s when you feel her tongue, warm and wet, brushing through your folds. The sensation is so new, so unfamiliar to you, that for a second, you freeze, your breath catching in your throat. 

Then, her tongue flattens, pressing over your clit and applying a slight pressure that has you arching against her. Her tongue curls over your swollen nub, gently drawing it towards her lips, an almost imperceptible pulling motion that has your hands scrambling for something to hold onto, finding a grip against the headboard of the bed.

She makes a contented hum as her lips wrap around your center, the sound vibrating against you making your hips jolt. Her hands curl around the undersides of your thighs, holding you in place. Your hands hold onto the headboard of the bed for dear life, feeling like it’s the only solid thing that you have to hold onto, keeping you from toppling over the edge and out of control. 

You’ve never felt like this before. Each swipe of her tongue over your heat, the gentle pulse of her lips as she sucks, enveloping you in her warm, wet mouth, brings a new sensation thrumming through your veins, almost akin to fire as it shoots through you, pleasure licking over every inch of your skin like flames. It’s overwhelming, in such a way that you don’t know what to do with it, how to express it. 

All you can do, at this point, is roll your hips against her mouth, hold onto the headboard, and let small, desperate whimpers escape your lips. You’re trying to hold onto some semblance of containing yourself, because you don’t know what would happen if you let yourself unravel completely. You’re terrified of what Ellie might see if you fell apart like that.

She seems to be doing everything she can to break away at your composure though. Her tongue is alternating between dragging slow, tender circles over your clit, and firm, quick strokes, that has your head falling against your hands, braced against the headboard. She flicks her tongue against you, her lips surrounding your clit in a particularly firm suck, and before you know it, you’re spilling over the edge, eyes shut tightly, and breath releasing in a long, shuttering moan that seems to run from the top of your head to the tips of your tightly curled toes, her tongue continuing to caress you over your peak.

She moans into you, and it all becomes too much. Your head is thrown back and your hands are reaching down, tangling in her hair, to push her away or pull her closer; it’s unclear in your fuzzy mind. All the while, her insistent tongue continues to swirl over your increasingly oversensitive bundle of nerves, the relentless and inescapable pleasure making you shiver all over, while a light sweat breaks out on your bare skin.

You only drift back into yourself when you become aware of a shift. It’s so fast, you barely have time to even blink, before Ellie manoeuvres you, flipping you onto your back and roughly parting your thighs with her hands. Her fingers run through your glistening folds, calloused thumb pressing against your aching, overstimulated clit. The sensation has you gasping, crying out, and trying to close your legs, buck your hips, move away.

Frantically, you try to jam your legs shut, trying to escape her mercilessly teasing fingers. Rough hands force your thighs apart, putting you on display for her as she holds you open. 

“Uh uh, not this time, Baby,” she tuts disapprovingly. “No more holding back on me, Sweet Girl,” listening to the low, dominant tone of her voice is like a drug to you, and your eyes roll back into your head as she speaks. 

“I want everyone to know how good I fuck this pretty little pussy.” Two fingers circle your clit and you jolt, trying to move away. But a strong arm pushes your hips down, pinning you against the bed easily.

Faster than you can process, her fingers retreat, and you don’t even have time to feel relieved, because a split second later, her hand comes down against your cunt with a smack, delivering a stinging, rough spank that has you crying out, clit throbbing and pulsing with the agonizingly delicious mix of pain and pleasure. 

“Now, you’re gonna be a good girl, and you’re gonna take everything I give you.” 

Two fingers notch at your entrance, but she waits, looking at you, a silent question, an invitation for you to tell her that this is too much and that you need to stop. You know she would in a heartbeat if you told her that this was too much or too rough for you right now, and that’s what makes you feel safe enough to continue.

So, when you respond by attempting to push your hips forward against her, a soft whimper falling from your lips, she smirks, and with the slightest movement of her wrist, her fingers thrust into you. Seconds later, her face is buried in between your legs, tongue gently lapping at your sensitive clit. After two orgasms, you’re hyper aware of every movement; every swirl of her tongue is sweet, hot agony that undoes you in seconds.

At the same moment her lips take your clit into her mouth, holding it as her tongue swipes a tight, rough circle over your heat, her fingers curl, and she finds that spot inside you that makes your legs begin to shake, pressing against it with each punishing thrust of her fingers. 

Your moans are loud, unrestrained, sounds that you would be embarrassed to make if you were in any way capable of controlling them. But you’re not, because your mind is only filled with her, her and her tongue on your clit, and her strong fingers pumping in and out of your wet cunt, playing with you as easily and as effortlessly as she plays the guitar. 

She’s clearly enjoying the sounds that fall from your lips, every beg and plea and moan of her name making her feel quite smug that she’s undone you so easily…she encourages you to continue, making a contented hum against your clit. She only looks up long enough to say:

“That’s it, I want to hear you being such a dirty little girl for me.”

A third finger slowly, carefully, pushes in; the stretch makes you feel so full, so good, it nearly takes your breath away. Her fingers thrust in and out slowly, testing the waters, wanting to make sure that you’ve adjusted – but you are having absolutely none of it.

Your head is thrown back and your hips are thrusting forward, or trying to, but her arm is so fucking strong that she doesn’t even have to try that hard to keep you pinned against the mattress, exactly where she wants you to be.  You don’t even realize you’re begging until you see her smirking up at you.

“Please, Ellie, please, fuck, I-I want,” it’s a challenge to even string coherent words together, but you’re distracted by her face, now looking up at you as her thumb takes over, stroking against your clit. 

“Come on, Baby girl, tell me what you want,” she presses her thumb a little harder into you, making you gasp brokenly. 

You take a breath to steady yourself, and your words still come out stuttered, but you say them, blushing in a way that she finds absolutely endearing considering you’re already spread out on her bed with three of her fingers buried inside of you.

“I-I want it harder,” you admit, your cheeks burning. “Want you to fuck me.”

“You’re so fuckin pretty when you use your words like that, Baby,” she praises. “Such a good fuckin girl,” then, her fingers are thrusting in and out, setting a rough pace, hitting that spot in a way that feels so much stronger than it already was. 

When she lowers her head, tongue dipping between your folds, returning to feast at your clit rough, persistent swirls and flicks over your swollen center, any slight ability to contain yourself is lost. You’re not aware of the sounds that you’re making, or the way that your hands scramble to find a hold on something, anything solid, eventually coming to clutch the soft bed sheets, holding them tightly in between your fingers.

You’re only aware that your orgasm is approaching, and that Ellie, little by little, is nudging you towards a peak that once you make it over, you think might absolutely wreck you, in the best possible way. All you know is that you want this, you want her. You need her.

God.

You really fucking need her. 

She feels your walls beginning to flutter around her, her free hand shifts down, coming to grip your thigh, opening you even wider for her.

 “Come on, baby, wanna hear all those pretty sounds you make for me when you cum.” 

She says against you, adjusting her wrist to fuck you with her fingers deeper. The new angle has you keening, hips desperately thrusting to chase the friction of whatever new spot she’s hitting. 

Her tongue flattening against you as she draws firm, tight circles over your bundle of nerves, The way that your back is arching, hips uselessly trying to grind down against her and her relentless fingers, fucking into your weeping cunt mercilessly.  She’s guiding you exactly to where she wants you to go, straight up towards that peak. Your vision blurs. 

“Fucking give it to me, Pretty Girl, want you to cum for me, all over my fingers and my mouth.” 

Your back arches off the bed, and suddenly, all you know is wave after wave of ecstasy that crashes through your body, electric shocks that pulse through you, making you jolt and flail uselessly combined with the rhythmic pumping of her fingers, and the dipping and swirling of her tongue against you. 

She works you through your orgasm, never slowing the movements of her tongue or her fingers that continue to drag in and out of you, sustaining your pleasure for as long as she can possibly hold it. Her lips wrap around your clit, as her tongue swipes through your folds, collecting all the wetness that she can find. She hums against you, encouraging your loud moans, and by the time it’s over, you’re a shaking, completely fucked out mess on her bed, 

If you happened to see the expression on her face as she watches you writhing beneath her, your hands twisting the sheets into knots and broken, unrestrained whimpers fall from your lips, she’s taking in the sight with immense appreciation, as if you’re the work of art she’s just created.

*

Turns out, the only thing that you have the ability to do post-three orgasms is roll over onto your stomach, shaking and trembling, and try, desperately, to regain your breath. 

Ellie, for her part, crawls up the bed beside you, hand coming up to tenderly stroke back the hair that sticks to your forehead, before gently rubbing your back.

“Easy, baby, that’s it, just breathe for me.” 

You’re eventually able to regain your breath, but your body feels floppy and light, and you can’t even begin to comprehend the slightest of movements. Ellie tucks a piece of hair behind your ear, saying softly, “I’ll be right back, I’m just gonna get something to clean you up, okay?”  

You nod in slight acknowledgement of her words, but your mind is still fuzzy, and the only thing that you’re really aware of right now is the sudden sleepiness that comes over you in a soft, comforting wave. You feel her stroke your hair once more before she rises from the bed, briefly pausing to look at how fucked out you are, stretched out across her bed, bare skin glistening with sweat that makes your hair stick to your forehead, eyes heavy and cheeks flushed.

“So pretty,” she breathes, before exiting.

She isn’t gone long, and when she returns your eyes are closed, head buried against a pillow. She kneels between your legs, hand reaching out to gently rub your back as you turn your head to look at her. 

“Just need to clean you up, pretty,” she whispers, and you realize how sticky you are in between your legs. 

“Okay,” you mumble, your voice sounding slightly hoarse, similar to the way it does when you first wake up in the morning. Were you really moaning that much?

You feel a warm, damp washcloth brushing against your inner thigh. It’s nice, soothing, but as Ellie moves towards the place in between your legs, you instinctively flinch, overstimulated and slightly sore. 

A large hand splays out over your back gently. “I know, Honey, it’s okay, I've got you,” Ellie soothes. 

She runs the cloth over your folds. “There we go, sweet girl, almost done.” Its brush against your clit makes you cry out, leg kicking out instinctively. Ellie shushes you gently, pressing chased, featherlight kisses against your spine, the curve of your hip, effectively distracting you while she finishes cleaning you up. 

When she’s done, she throws the cloth to the side, coming to sit beside you. “Okay, Baby, I just need you to get up and go for a quick pee.” You turn your head to look at her in bewilderment, staring up at her with your eyebrows raised.

“Why?” You ask, confused. She chuckles softly at your expression. 

“Because, nowadays there isn’t much to protect ourselves from any infections that we could pick up while doing this,” she gestures vaguely. “And this is the one thing that we can do to at least try to help prevent something from coming up,”

“Buuut Elliee, I don’t wanna get up,” you grumble, burying your face back into the pillow.

She sighs softly, “come on, it’ll be fast, and then we can get back into bed and cuddle for as long as you want.” 

That idea is tempting, but she could just get into bed with you right now and cuddle. Plus, you want to know who gave her this information, because it sounds pretty fucking stupid to you. 

“I don’t want to,” you grumble.

Ellie playfully hits you with a pillow. “Come on, Lazy Ass,” she’s guiding you to sit up now, in spite of how much you’re resisting, because the bed is so warm and soft. 

“Besides,” she reasons, “we both go out on patrol in three days, and I am not dealing with you having to dismount your horse every five minutes because you got a urinary tract infection and now you need to pee every time we hit a bump on the path.” 

You dramatically sigh in defeat. “Okay, okay, I get it, Jesus Christ,” you roll your eyes in mock exasperation, but the smile pulling at your lips betrays your true feelings. “On one condition,” you say, folding your arms across your chest.

“What?” Ellie is fighting to restrain a smile, because you’re just too goddamn cute when you’re like this.

“You have to carry me there and back,” you say, reaching your arms up like a child who wants to be picked up. 

She sighs, feigning annoyance, but she’s already positioning an arm beneath your knees. “You’re such a fucking brat,” she mutters against your hair as she cradles you against her chest. 

You snuggle into her, smile growing wide as she moves towards the door, holding you in her arms. “Don’t lie, you love it.”

“Shut up ,” she says, hand sneaking around to give your ass an affectionate squeeze, making you gasp and giggle in surprise, instinctively kicking, nearly falling out of her arms in the process. But her hold is secure, arms tightening around you as your cheek presses against her shoulder.

“Don’t worry, babe, I got you.”

*

After gently setting you back in bed, once you’ve finally gone to the bathroom, grumbling the whole way there and back, Ellie went to get you a glass of water. She’s been gone for less than 30 seconds, and you already miss the feeling of her body, Strong and warm and steady, pressed against you. While she’s gone though, you entertain yourself by letting your eyes roam over your body, finding the evidence of her, left behind on your skin. You discover each new mark, each trace of her presence imprinted on you with the anticipation and joy of a child finding Easter eggs. 

Your hand runs over your inner thigh, Lips pulling into a smile as you take in the sight of the finger shaped bruises that she left from where she gripped onto you so tightly. The site makes a warm, tingling feeling settle in your stomach.

You don’t hear her approach from behind you, and she must not see the expression on your face.

“Did I hurt you? Was it, was it too much?”

You turn, eyebrows raised and already shaking your head with vehemence, to find her watching you, biting her lip, concerned frown on her face. 

“What, no, no, Ells, it’s just,” you avert your eyes, the blush creeping onto your face is mortifying, and in spite of everything you too just did, and how you had expected talking about things like this would be easier now, it’s still hard to admit it out loud. 

She catches your chin in her hand, gently redirecting your eyes back up to meet hers. Seeing her so close to you, you don’t have to look hard to see the anxieties, trying to be contained and hidden, but dancing behind her eyes nonetheless. 

You feel your heart clench. She’s opened up to you about her past on a few occasions, but when she has, it was easy to sense how fearful she was of her own inclinations towards violence, regardless of how necessary and imperative it might have been for her survival. She’s like a fire, impulsive and easy to set off, her flames all-consuming without a second thought. But after, even now, even when all this is small bruises marking your skin in the heated passion of lust, that will fade and be gone within a few days, she’ll still twist herself into knots, thinking and overthinking until she’s convinced herself that she’s ruined you.

“Please, Babe, tell me the truth,” her voice is soft, barely a whisper, but you hate the way that there’s a slight tremble in it, so uncharacteristic of Ellie. It breaks what’s left of your embarrassment, and the words fall from your lips without hesitation now.

“It wasn’t too much. It’s just, I-I liked it...the marks... I think it’s kind of hot.” 

You wonder, in the back of your mind, if she can feel the way your cheek heats beneath her hand, resting against it ever so lightly. Her breath comes out in a soft, surprised laugh, and you’re relieved to see the concerned edges fade from her expression, a smirk instead overtaking her lips. “

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she whispers, fingers coming to trace over the scattered marks, littered across your neck and collarbone. 

“You’re cold,” she observes, hands running up and down your arms, goosebumps beginning to form there. You hadn’t even noticed that you had begun to shiver.

When she crawls into bed behind you, wrapping her arms around you, Holding you against her, her warmth settles into your bones, running through you like melted chocolate. She brings the glass of water to your lips, insisting that you drink, and refusing to back down, in spite of your protests that you’ll need to get up to go pee in the middle of the night and does she realize how annoying that is? 

She does, but she still coaxes you to drink half the glass.

You hold the glass up to her, pouting slightly. “Now you drink some, I feel like you should, too, because you were doing a lot of work, you know, with your mouth,” you say suggestively. 

“Oh my God, shut up,” she groans. She gives you a playful shove that nearly makes the glass tumble from your hand. But she has quick reflexes, and her hand is steady against yours as she gently grabs your wrist, preventing the spill.

“Careful, Hun,” she cautions, plucking the glass out of your hand easily. “If only to appease you,” she sighs dramatically, before tipping it back and draining the glass.

The inevitable crash that you hadn’t, but probably should’ve, anticipated hits you all at once. It starts with a sigh that quickly turns into a yawn that seems to take all of your energy with it. You move to shrug your shoulders, brush it off like it’s nothing, because honestly, it’s only just starting to get dark outside, you can’t go to sleep right now, it’s just too early.

Your bones feel oddly heavy, sore in a way that shouldn’t surprise you, but it does. Adrenaline, and passion have temporarily blinded you to trivial things, like being a human and having a body that can get physically exhausted, especially after trying so many new things at once. You wince because fuck, you hadn’t realized how tense you had been holding yourself today until now, and the consequences are quickly setting in. 

She’s watching you, observing you closely as she always does. She doesn’t say a word, but she intuitively understands.

She brushes your hair off to one side, and you shiver as your bare neck and shoulders are exposed to her. Warm hands settle over your shoulders, there’s a gentle squeeze, an unspoken question, an offering. The way your head falls forward, the low, contented noise that falls from your lips is all the ascent that she needs.

Her thumbs gingerly press into the tense muscles beneath them. She hums sympathetically, feeling how tender you are beneath her. She keeps her movements slow and precise as she presses her thumbs against you, applying a slight pressure, running them over the backs of your shoulders, gently encouraging the tension to release. She’s ceaselessly patient, only continuing her path upward when she can feel your muscles relax, giving into her ministrations.  

She continues to massage across your shoulders and your upper back, seeming to find and undo tension in places that you didn’t even realize you were carrying. It makes you sleepy, the gentle caress of her hands gliding over your skin, paired with the firm press of her knuckles, exactly where you need it.

One of her hands slowly runs up the back of your neck, gently cupping you at the base of your skull.  Her fingers smooth over your temples, stress easing away as your eyes flutter shut.  Her other hand continues to press and massage in between your shoulder blades, firm and insistent as she smooths her thumbs over the tight knot that’s gathered there, with patient persistence, making it unravel at her touch, and forcing the tension to leave your body. 

“Relax, Pretty Girl, I’m not going anywhere,” her voice is a low rumble against your ear. 

Her lips brush over one of the bruises she’s left on the side of your neck, and suddenly, it’s like all the tension bleeds out of you, draining so quickly that you don’t have time to catch yourself.

She laughs softly as you try to contain the yawn that tears through you as she eases you back towards the pillows. She wraps a soft blanket around both of you, covering your bodies and making sure you’re tucked in securely. 

She settles in behind you, warm, bare skin pressing against yours as she curls herself around you. A strong arm wraps around your waist, gently tugging you close to her as her leg hooks over yours. 

You’re barely awake, only aware enough to snuggle into her, saying sleepily, “if this is the treatment I’m going to get after one swimming lesson, what are you gonna do when I’ve mastered it?”

There’s a soft chuckle, low against your ear as she whispers, “don’t worry about that, pretty girl, I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough.” 

She kisses the top of your head, lingering for a moment as she adoringly watches your eyes flutter. You sigh with contentment, letting a sleepy smile graze over your lips. Maybe she doesn’t realize what she’s doing, maybe she isn’t even aware…but, in this moment, you’re surrounded by her. 

Her safety.

Her warmth .

Her unconditional and unwavering love is curled around your heart as closely as she’s curled herself around you. She’s here, she’s safety, she’s love,and right now, she is all that you could ever want.

-

this was actually my first attempt at writing smut, and in spite of how nervous I am to share it, I’m actually really happy with how it turned out. So if you enjoyed it, please let me know, notes, comments, and re-blogs are so appreciated. Thank you so much for reading

[world-of-wales]

❥ 14 JUNE 2024 | The Princess of Wales has issued a moving personal message thanking people for their support during her ongoing cancer battle, revealing she will attend Trooping the Colour with her children.

The portrait features her standing in front of an IVY climber, which symbolises fidelity and eternal life. In ancient Egypt, it was dedicated to Osiris, who represented immortality and in ancient Greece, Ivy was the plant of Dionysus because of its vigour. It has played an important role in the past, during long winters with little light, it offered a spark of hope that spring would come again.

The tree in the picture is the WILLOW which symbolises strength, adaptability and resilience. It's ability to grow and survive in adversity show how we can thrive even in challenging conditions. In ancient European folklore, it was believed that the willow tree brought good luck, and people would knock on its trunk to bring good fortune.

In a statement she said,

I have been blown away by all the kind messages of support and encouragement over the last couple of months. It really has made the world of difference to William and me and has helped us both through some of the harder times.

I am making good progress, but as anyone going through chemotherapy will know, there are good days and bad days. On those bad days you feel weak, tired and you have to give in to your body resting. But on the good days, when you feel stronger, you want to make the most of feeling well.

My treatment is ongoing and will be for a few more months. On the days I feel well enough, it is a joy to engage with school life, spend personal time on the things that give me energy and positivity, as well as starting to do a little work from home.

I’m looking forward to attending The King’s Birthday Parade this weekend with my family and hope to join a few public engagements over the summer, but equally knowing I am not out of the woods yet.

I am learning how to be patient, especially with uncertainty. Taking each day as it comes, listening to my body, and allowing myself to take this much needed time to heal.

Thank you so much for your continued understanding and to all of you who have so bravely shared your stories with me.

- C

[lily-fics-11]

I Can See You: Chapter 1 (Ellie Williams, TLOU)

I Can See You

Fic master post here

*Not beta read

Ellie Williams is a player, on and off the lacrosse field. You begin tutoring her so that she can get her grades up and stay on the team. You try to keep things professional, however, your affection is a great motivator. Ellie wouldn't be caught dead with you so you become her secret mission. 

Chapter 1

You’ve started tutoring Ellie and things don’t go as expected. She’s trying to convince you to kiss her to keep her doing her work. But not to kiss and tell.

Word count: 2.4k

CW: No use of y/n, profanities, *Ellie and reader are both 18*

The first time you kissed Ellie Williams was right in the middle of your 3rd tutoring session during the first week of March. 

She is the star of the girl's lacrosse team and they threatened to bench her if she didn’t improve her grades. 

Truth be told, Ellie has far greater academic aptitude than you expected. However, she spends most of her time in class flirting with the popular girls and cracking jokes instead of paying attention.

All you really have to do is go over the material and make sure she pays attention. Once she actually got to work, she would fly through everything, but keeping her focused was a far greater challenge than you had anticipated

The first meeting Ellie told you all about lacrosse, and you wouldn’t understand what she was talking about even if you wanted to. “You won’t get to play lacrosse if you don’t get any work done,” you reminded her. 

The second meeting you found out that Ellie is secretly a nerd, when she ranted about comic books. You had brought it up and it turns out you like some of the same ones. Ellie couldn't contain herself, but she made you swear not to tell anyone about it. 

Meeting three was when Ellie found out how to keep you distracted. She noticed the little pride pin on your backpack and started using her charm on you. 

You meet 2 times a class cycle because you were helping her with calculus and English on A days and chem and Spanish on C. You both have the same study hall so they assigned you to her. Can’t take away from the superstar’s practice time after school. 

“That rainbow pin on your bag,” Ellie smirks. “Are you…?”

“Rainbow in a women are hot way? Yes, I’ve been out for a while, so I thought everyone knew. I guess it’s only the people who pay attention.”

“I pay attention!” She actually looks offended. 

You sigh. “To cheerleaders, in short skirts. And popular girls in expensive clothes. Any girl with a couple thousand followers on Instagram.” Although you suspect that there is more to Ellie than there seems to be, there is no ignoring her taste in women.

“Not very feminist of you, judging those girls, I see that pin too.” She shakes her head in sarcastic disapproval.

“I would never judge anyone for anything like that. I admire anyone who is brave enough to express themselves in the way they want to. I’m judging you. For having such a narrow gaze.” Your smile is so sickeningly sweet it could rot her teeth. 

Ellie’s jaw drops, she really thought she had you there. “Come on now, I pay attention to all sorts of girls.”

You cover your face with your hands. “All right then, you’ve spent enough time sitting across from me, what color are my eyes, Ellie?”

“I… uh…” she stutters, at a loss for words. 

You uncover your face and comically bulge your eyes. 

Ellie raises her eyebrows and nods. “Now that I see them, that is exactly the color I was going to say.” 

“Bull shit.”

“Fine,” Ellie rolls her eyes, “ask me another question. If I get it wrong you will get 15 minutes of uninterrupted work from me.”

“What’s my last name?”

“That’s easy… you sit next to Carly in calculus, so your last name must start with R or S.”

You cut her off before she can continue, you'd be here all day. “I’ll stop you right there. We are not in the same calculus class.”

She purses her lips and squints her eyes. “Then why are you tutoring me in calculus?”

“Well, I am in honors, so I’m a year ahead. I got an A in it last year.”

Ellie scratches the back of her head. “That does actually make sense.”

You slide a worksheet over to her. “How about we start that uninterrupted work.”

She doesn’t even look down at the pieces of paper. 

“Just one more question? If I get it wrong, I will shut up for the rest of the period.”

She leans forward and gives you a charming smile, which you ignore to the best of your ability. 

“I love watching you bet against yourself,” you admit, leaning back in your chair with a smirk.

“I’m not done. If I get it right…” mischief flickers in those enchanting green eyes. “… I get a kiss.” 

Her smile would melt most girls' hearts, and you are no exception. You’d be lying if you said you’ve never watched her walk down the hallway before. Ellie swaggers through the crowds, that part for her like the red sea, with a shit eating grin and her chin turned up. She’s drop dead gorgeous, and her gravitational field is strong, all eyes are always on her. The girl practically oozes charisma. 

But you know how to play it cool.

“A kiss? Seriously? That’s what you want?” You scoff, though you certainly wouldn't’ mind.

“Yeah.” She says as if it’s obvious. 

“Why?” You are very suspicious. “I don’t fit any of your criteria.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” Ellie leans over and rests her elbows on the table, folds her hands together. “Now that I’m paying attention, your eyes are really pretty.”

“You’re fucking with me, Williams,” you huff, annoyed by her wasting your time. 

She smirks at you. “I’m serious. You’re actually way prettier than half the girls I’ve hooked up with.

“I’m so flattered.” You say sarcastically and start to organize the things spread out on the table. 

“I’m being serious!” She says and playfully slams her hands down on the table. 

“Only half?” You chuckle.

“I just… I… I guess not.” That makes your eyebrows raise and your nose scrunch in disgust. You run your tongue along the inside of your mouth.

“Actually, more than most.,.” Ellie stutters, her eyes darting around. 

You cross your arms over your chest and bite back a smile. “What’s my favorite song?”

“What’s your favorite song?” She echos back. 

“Guess it right and you can have a kiss.”

You’ve never seen Ellie concentrate so hard. You can only assume that this is her game day face.

“Its… it’s…” and she guesses… correctly?

You gasp, totally flabbergasted. “How the hell did you know that?”

She looks like she just won jeopardy. “You requested it in gym the other day.”

You blink rapidly in shock. “And you remembered?”

Ellie sits back and crosses her arms confidently. “Believe it or not we have a similar taste in music”

“You’re right. I don’t believe it.”

“Either way, I still won my prize,” she winks at you.

“Prize? Oh, yeah,” you laugh and roll your eyes. 

You lean over and give her a quick peck on the lips

She looks disgusted.

If looks could kill Ellie Williams would have been slaughtered right there in the school library. 

“Fucking hell, am I really that bad of a kisser?”

She squints her eyes and shakes her head no. “I wouldn’t know, that wasn’t a real kiss.” You run your hand through your hair. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Ellie looks deep into your eyes, like she’s staring right at your soul, and licks her lips. She slowly moves her hand to your face and cups your chin. She tilts your face up and smirks before pulling your lips into hers. Ellie does not hold back. 

Though you’ve never kissed each other before, it feels like you’ve kissed a thousand times. You don’t have to find a rhythm; you just fall in sync. Something about the way she tastes is so familiar. Who were you to deny yourself a good kiss with an attractive girl?

Ellie pulls away but leaves her hand on your chin. “That is a kiss.”

You lightly grab her by the wrist and place her hand on the table. “You still owe me 15 minutes of work.”

Ellie fake pouts. “Is that all you have to say to me? Was that not the best kiss of your life?”

Your palm meets your forehead. “You really are full of yourself. It’s time to get this stuff done.”

“All I’ll say is that maybe this could be a method of keeping me motivated.”

“You’re ridiculous!” 

She’s got a wide grin on her face; she’s waiting to prove you wrong. “You say that now, but I’m sure you’ll find yourself offering up bigger and bigger prizes, and not just to shut me up. But let’s keep this between us.”

It’s your next meeting and you are supposed to work on her chem homework and edit her English essay. 

“How about we work on your essay first?”

She nods and opens her notebook… to an empty page. She looks over at you expectantly and you gesture at it with confusion. 

“That doesn’t look like an essay to me,” you sigh. 

“I just wasn’t feeling motivated. So, I thought maybe, just maybe, you could kiss me after every paragraph. It would help me write.” Ellie licks her lips and tries to seduce you with her alluring eyes. 

“I think it’s best, for the both of us, to keep things professional.”

“Not best for me, it’s a proven method!” She exclaims as if it’s obvious. 

“You’d have to run the experiment more than once to prove something.”

“Fine, you can be the x axis and I can be the y axis.”

You fold your hands together. “I’m proud of you for that even if it doesn’t make sense. Do you know how many people have caught feelings for me while I tutor them?”

“First of all, I don’t catch feelings. Second of all, it can't be that many. 

“Underestimating is a dangerous game, Williams, a star athlete like you know that. 4 of 7 straight guys, 2 of 2 queer girls and 1 of 4 straight girls.

Ellie brings her hand to her chin and nods in approval. “I have to say, I’m impressed. Game recognizes game. That’s why you don’t have to worry about me catching feelings.”

“We can use that as a last resort. Can we please try and be professional?” You are borderline begging her. 

“Ughhhhh,” she groans and pouts her lips, trying to get you to look at them. You can neither confirm nor deny that it worked.

“I don’t care who you are, Ellie, you won’t be getting any special treatment from me.”

“We will see about that.”

Ellie was surprisingly cooperative while you outlined the essay theme. She even stayed focused while writing the intro.

But while working on the outlines for the body paragraphs she would hit you with a pickup line as often as she could. Somehow, she knew exactly where the sweet spot was, enough to satisfy herself, but not too many that you would get fed up with her and tell her to stop. 

“I finished the intro, how about we work on the intro of me and you?”

“I think this paragraph proves I know how to handle a beautiful body.”

Ellie kept holding the eraser side of the pencil to her lips and glancing over to see if it had you looking where she wanted you to. It's painful to admit, but you couldn’t look away.

After mapping out all of the paragraphs you switch over to chemistry. 

“Let’s go over the basics for this topic. What can you tell me about entropy without looking at your notes?” You ask her this very hesitantly, you don’t want to put too much pressure on her.

“Chaos and disorder.” Ellie smiles like an evil villain, as if those are her two favorite things. 

You give her a nod of approval. “That’s a good start, do you remember how the amount of disorder correlates to the amount of entropy?”

Her face scrunches up while she thinks. “More disorder is more entropy.”

“Perfect.” That puts a devilish grin on Ellie’s face. “If you kissed me I would have less entropy.”

You roll your eyes. “Oh, I'm sure you would.” You are completely monotone. “If the reaction is positive do the reactants or the products have higher entropy.”

Ellie straightens up her posture. “The products. So, if kissing was the product there may be a lot of entropy, but it would also be positive.”

“Ellie, if you found some internal motivation you would excel. Not just pass these classes and be able to play lacrosse but do really well. You are smart and I don’t think you give yourself enough credit.” You made sure that your tone was soft and reassuring. You really mean it and don’t want to sound condescending.

If you didn’t know any better, you would say that Ellie was on the verge of tearing up. “Really?”

“Yes of course.”

“Nobody ever expects more of me than playing well in lacrosse.” She’s looking anywhere but at you and playing with the pencil in her hand.

“I don’t know you well, but I can tell there is much more to you.”

Ellie looks so lost. “Of course,” she mutters. “I seduce every girl I see.”

That is absolutely not what you meant, even if it had been in the back of your mind. 

You softly give Ellie your opinion on the situation, whether it’s your place or not. This girl obviously doesn’t talk about things like this very much and you want her to know it’s ok to be vulnerable and communicate. 

“If the way you are with me is any indication of the way you are with other girls, and I don’t want to step out of line here- but I feel like you can handle honesty- it’s a defense mechanism. Deflection specifically.”

Ellie’s eyes shoot wide open and her jaw drops. “Fuck! You are smart.” 

You shake your head and smile. “I wouldn’t say that makes me smart, I’m just not shallow like everyone else in this godforsaken town.”

Ellie leans back in her chair so far that it looks like it’s about to tip over. She is staring up at the ceiling when she mumbles. “I think you’re the only one.”

“I don’t think you are either; I think you pretend to be. In order to survive.”

“What are you, some sort of therapist?”

“I’d be lying if I said I haven’t spent hours researching this type of thing because I find it interesting.”

“You can’t tell anyone about this.”

“Under one condition, we keep things professional.”

*if anyone is interested in a tag list lmk!

[saintmeghanmarkle]

William’s masterclass in playing the press and maintaining privacy

From u/canellelabelle on X @ canellelabelle Unarchived link

TL;DR

William got injunctions to stop press publishing the grainy pap photo of Catherine. They issued their own (photoshopped) image. (Catherine supported him by issuing the apology).

The press issued the Kill order to the photo so the press can’t publish it.

W&C own the copyright to the original and only photo.

70m+ people have seen it on Twitter

Full article text:

The masculine Jawline and broad shoulders match the defiant and headstrong attitude indeed. Nature never makes a mistake📷 In the Past 24 hours the press finally went to Head with Prince William and it was a long time coming📷

Since his youth, William has evaded the press. With Catherine, they hoped they finally had the weak link; they now realised: Only Iron cuts Iron. Catherine is as headstrong, private and loyal as William is📷

So after 2 months of literally harrassing this man in articles and hate campaigns for a picture of HIS wife and getting nothing, the paparazzis supported by the World press, decided to invade the couple's privacy and capture some intrusive shots.

The World press wanted to publish them but Prince William, via palace lawyers, exerted tremendous pressure on the british press, AP, Reuters, Getty and AFP, to NOT publish the illegal pictures📷 That was a massive win for William that annoyed them to no end. Thus, they expected something Big in return..like the rights to Catherine first picture📷

To their dismay, the Wales pulled another historic blinder: Not only did they not get advance notice of the picture, but Prince William himself took the picture of his family, in the intimacy of their Windsor home, and Catherine edited it and posted it with her personal message for mother's day📷

That was a massive play; The press was robbed of their oportunity to make huge money by having rights to the picture and Now the picture was getting huge exposure on the Wales pages without any need for the world press. They got played on BOTH hands📷

So the World press decided to teach William a lesson and decided to retaliate with all their might, issuing a discrediting "Kill notice". They DEMANDED that not only the picture be pulled from their publishing papers but that the Wales DELETE THEIR OWN FAMILY picture from THEIR OWN SOCIAL MEDIA over THEIR OWN EDITING. They even put a community notes on X and restrictions on instagram against the picture📷📷📷

This crucial moment in the history of publishing house is where William officially BROKE the world press📷 The Fact that they were so livid at his continued evasion despite, their very public bullying tactics, that they had to out their own game is a Win📷 We witnessed the world press band together over "editing" issues, to bully a Man into serving his own wife on a silver platter for their consumption because she makes them big money📷

What happened next is another lesson in evasion tactics: Catherine once again took to X clarifying that she made the edits to their picture and politely apologising for the confusion while wishing everyone a good Mother's day as she had. One would think, "oh she caved". Not quite📷she pulled another blinder. Catherine is not asleep, she is fiercely backing William📷 The Press did not want an explanation, They WANTED W&C to hand them the Original of the picture so they would finally publish it and make money of it📷 William and Catherine said "Meh"📷

The same Picture with the same edits, William's now iconic picture of his wife and family, is the ONLY clear picture of Catherine. It is STILL UP, the community note and restrictions have been removed. It is Now the ONLY source of the picture. No one made money off It. The pic has now over 72 million views in 24 hours on X📷

So All in All, who pulled the blinder and came out victorious?📷 Prince William is still in control of his Wife's privacy as the world still doesnt know anything about Catherine's diagnosis or what is truly going on; The press is still mad and was still burned on both ends: No pap pictures published and no first pics of Catherine published📷

THESE are the defiant actions and the defiant face of the son who has learned from his mother's mistakes; from witnessing her trials with the press to losing her in a paparazzi car chase and swore to himself: 'Never Again'📷

post link

author: WorthSpecialist1066

submitted: March 12, 2024 at 09:03AM via SaintMeghanMarkle on Reddit

disclaimer: all views + opinions expressed by the author of this post, as well as any comments and reblogs, are solely the author's own; they do not necessarily reflect the views of the administrator of this Tumblr blog. For entertainment only.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

i went through this account’s handful of videos from this show, and i’m pretty confident that’s will roland, next to harrison chad as quince, despite the view being mostly obstructed from the angle this whole time. he’s Most Visible for a moment at the very end lol. since the costuming is just a buttonup and tie w/no especial “it’s This character, or Any character” cues, i’ll guess he’s “will roland” at this point, though that doesn’t mean he wasn’t appearing in some other capacity earlier. every pre-2018 xmas wrole cited in that tweet has been accounted for, but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t been some of those characters more than once, as is definitely true for uncle peenie appearances

[savannahsdeath]

HEAR ME OUT I HAVE A REQ!!!!

Sooo basically Ellie being the mafia boss and reader being her precious girlfriend that she (and basically the whole mafia gang) protects.... Idk it could be a fic or just a oneshot but I NEED MAFIA ELLIE IN MY LIFE

HEARING YOU OUT !!

MAFIA!ELLIE WILLIAMS X READER

mdni please<3

warnings: 18+!! just some typical mafia shit idk

writers note: focused more on life life than romantic life in this one BUT maybe, just maybe, I'll do a part2 with more love scenes (basically a smut)

being a housewife for your mafia boss girlfriend wasn't something you were dreaming about as a kid, but you like it. ellie's buddies are loud, suspicious, they make lots of inappropriate jokes or act all posessive but they would never hurt you. in fact, they won't let anyone hurt you.

today, just like every friday, she brings them home to play cards and talk. you, of course, had to clean the whole house. ellie didn't ask you to do that - her people weren't.. the cleanest people anyway, but you couldn't stand the thought of your guests finding a layer of dust on a shelf or a ball of hair in the bathroom.

the doorbell rings and you run up to greet them, and, mainly, see ellie. as you open the door, you're presented with a bunch of burly men and only one, but your favourite, woman.

"good evening, mrs williams." smiles the first one, before entering.

the feeling of being called by ellie's last name was still new to you, but it sent a warm feeling from your heart down to your stomach.

you stand back and watch as the men enter, filling out your living room. they seem more at ease than usual, and you're sure ellie is to blame. they greet you with a smile, before stepping aside to reveal ellie last.

"hey, babe." ellie says, as she wraps her arms around you and pulls you in close. she smiles up at you, with those green eyes of hers. she leans in for a kiss, and you gladly give in to her, feeling her soft lips on yours. you get lost in the moment, forgetting to breathe and not pulling away for a quite long time, only making a break when it's really needed.

"c'mon, ellie, or we'll start playing without you!" one of the men calls out from the dining table.

the men's voices in the background quickly fade away as you are consumed in the moment.

ellie, though, pulls away, and laughs. "i'm coming, i'm coming!" she shouts before letting go of you and walking towards the dining table, with you trailing behind her.

you happily take a seat on ellie's lap, as you both set your eyes on the deck of cards. as she shuffles the cards, you watch in adoration of her every movement. you are quickly snapped out of your trance when you felt something touch your leg, and you see ellie looking at you with a sly grin on her face.

she leans in and whispers; "don't move too much, 'kay?"

she winks and starts to deal out the cards.

usually you tried to avoid looking at ellie's cards - your 'poker face' wasn't really working and your reaction could make her lose. this time, you didn't pay attention to the rules, so you didn't have to avoid it. you didn't know wether her cards are good or useless anyway.

you find yourself not paying much attention to the game, instead getting caught up in the conversations around you. you happily listen to the others, learning more about their business dealings. you don't know much about poker or card games, and you aren't the best at lying, so you keep yourself out of the game.

you start to feel the warmth of ellie's soft, loving touches, as she plays with your hair or strokes your thigh.

the evening continues on with you, ellie and the other men playing a few rounds. you watch her intently, noticing every little detail about her body language and facial expressions. even you couldn't read her poker face, though.

you slowly reach for her hand, and begin to play with it a little, twirling her fingers.

that's one of the good sides of being a mafia boss's wife, but there's also the.. well, worse ones.

they visited you again and you could tell something's wrong straight ahead - it was tuesday. you came back from a walk to see a man tied to a chair in your kitchen. he had pieces of cloth wrapped around his head - one around his eyes and the other in his mouth, making him lose ability to see or speak.

"what do we do with him?" another man asked, one you knew from the friday evenings.

ellie was about to say something before she noticed you, awkwardly standing in the doorstep, scared and too surprised to move. she quickly grabs your arm and steers you out of the kitchen.

"it's okay, love. don't worry, it has nothing to do with you. just stay in the other room, alright? i'll come grab you in a bit. it'll be okay." ellie says reassuringly, as she leads you into the living room.

you hear the sound of the man in the kitchen making muffled sounds, as he struggles and squirms in his chair.

ellie sits you down on the couch, and then walks out of the room. you feel uneasy as you hear the man in the kitchen continue making sounds, but you sit quietly as ellie tells you to.

you watch as the door to the kitchen slowly closes behind ellie, and you hear muffled shouting and noises coming from inside. the others come into the living room, to check on you and see if you're okay.

"hey, everything alright? did ellie tell you what's going on?" one of them asks. "don't worry, it'll all be over soon. we just gotta deal with him quickly."

you can hear the muffled shouting in the kitchen continue, and the other men around you try to ignore it. as they discuss business deals, and joke about various topics, you continue to feel a pit in your stomach, worrying about what is happening in the kitchen. they don't seem eager to tell you what is going on, but they try to keep you distracted. one of them tries to joke with you, but you barely respond, as your mind is focused on what is happening in the next room. you start to feel sick, and your face starts to feel hot.

"what is she doing?" you ask quietly, but as soon as you realize your voice doesn't reveal your fear and confusion you add in a louder tone; "who is he?"

the room goes quiet, as the others hear you speak up. you can see some of the men exchange worried glances, but they still try to keep their composure in front of you. it doesn't do much to help you feel better, as you look at them with fear in your eyes.

the others look among themselves, as if asking what to do, before one of them speaks up. "you know this isn't really something you need to worry about," he says, trying to put a calming tone on his voice. "but since you ask, he's just a guy working for a rival gang. he was trying to get some information on us, so we need to... erm... make sure he won't do it again."

you notice how vague their answer was, as they try to keep you in the dark. at the same time, the meaning was painfully obvious.

you take a moment to process what the man said, before speaking up again. "but.. why here, in our house?" you ask, with your voice still shaky. "surely you must have your places to do... business?"

another man steps in to answer, trying to calm you down with words that sound too well rehearsed.

"no need to worry about a thing." the other man says, in an overly reassuring voice. "like i said, it isn't really your problem. you know, these guys always try to stick their noses where it doesn't belong. your girl here is just showing him the consequences of messing with the wrong people, alright?"

you feel like they are trying to brush off your concerns, and you doubt that they're being completely truthful with you. you knew it's probably just to protect you but you wanted to know everything.

the muffled shouting in the kitchen slowly dies down, and there's only occasional sounds of movement from inside - probably someone cleaning up the mess you could only imagine was done.

you are left feeling confused and anxious, unsure of what happened in the kitchen, or how this will play out.

later, when you were laying in bed in your lace nightgown which ellie loved seeing you in oh so much, you managed to get the tied up man out of your head.

that's what i should expect anyways, right?

ellie just came to the bedroom after taking a shower, her wet hair glued to her face. she kisses you on the cheek, before walking over and climbing onto the bed next to you. you look at her, and notice that something seems off about her behaviour.

"how did it go?" you ask, referring to the events that happened earlier.

ellie is taking her time in answering you, and you notice a slight hesitation in her voice. "it went... well. it's nothing you should worry about, love. besides..." she leans towards you and whispers; "i handled it, alright? you don't need to concern yourself with it." she plays with your hair, making it look like she's trying to distract both you and herself from thinking about it.

you watch as ellie's wet hair drips onto the bed. she continues to stroke your head, trying to give you the impression that everything is fine.

was it really fine? oh, well...

[transnats]

Piquerism - E. Williams

Dont buy TLOU | Daily Click

Kinks/Warnings: Knife play, proofread + edited by yours truly, canon-adjacent setting, fingering/clit stimulation, pet names (babe, baby), slight degrading, Ellie is a wee mean

🎙️ Xan Says: Excited to announce my very first writing collab with my lovely hot cute sexy wife @joliettes! Very, very, very excited about this woooo! Everyone cheered! And guess what? She also made the banner that’s so very good so give her some flowers! Everyone should also thank Xan and the silly lil guy up in his head cause this would’ve never been possible without him. 🙂‍↕️ Anyways! Lemme shut up now. 😭😭

W/C: 943

Your eyes tend to linger a little too long whenever she’s using her knife. And of course it’s hot that she’s protecting you and whatnot but.. it’s something else entirely. It recently aroused in you — the way her fingers made quick work of twirling her knife, even how it looks in her hands exudes something deep inside of you.

After some time of running, you’d found a small and quaint place in the woods to rest at for a while. She starts a campfire before she takes a seat on the ground with a small huff.

She’s cleaning her knife of blood and shining it with a small rag she kept in her pocket. As usual, your eyes look hungrily at her. A carnal desire to feel the cool steel of the blade against your skin arises. The idea has your face and body hot, followed by your mind becoming clouded with desire.

The action prompts you to rub your thighs together, in need already. “You good?” She asks, giving you a confused look. You shake your head with a tight smile. “No yeah, I’m fine.” Trying to also not look at her tattooed, veiny arm was already so hard, but that knife in her hands was making you super wet, to where you could feel your underwear soaking up the more you sat still.

The way you’d been feeling right now was damn near unbearable, so in an attempt to distract yourself from it, you stand up and your legs move on their own. The animals in the forest created a nice hum. A cacophony of their sounds fill your ears as the soft chill from the fall breeze washes over your skin.

What you didn’t know is that you made her feel some type of way —  all of the hungry looks you were giving got her caught up in the moment. The walk you’re on doesn’t distract you enough. Moreover, she clouded your mind heavily and wouldn’t leave.

Your brain could’ve turned to mush. You get lost in your thoughts once you’ve figured that this was useless. So, you begin walking back towards the glow of the fire, only to find Ellie walking over to you. Leaves crunch under her beat up canvas sneakers as she comes closer. “Ellie? What’s this about?” You murmur. She scoffs. “Don’t play dumb. I saw how you were looking at me while I was cleaning my knife,” she retrieved the knife from her pocket. “Admit it; you’re all worked up over this switchblade.” Her voice carries some sort of taunting. 

“I don’t know what you mean.” You lie, inching towards a thick willow tree. She rolls her eyes as she follows behind you. Before you know it, shes right on your back. You, of course weren’t gonna let her win that easily — that wouldn’t have been very fun, would it? Looking back at her, you attempt to fight back. You gave her lots of pushback until it drove her crazy. You pushed her away but shes right back where she was. Her body was strong against yours as she smashed your face gently against the trees bark, your back facing her. 

She brings the knife close against your neck making you breath in anticipation. “Do it.” You say looking back at her, yearning. 

She chuckles looking into your eyes with deep intent. “Oh, now you’re brave huh?” Her free hand slid down your body slowly to unzip your jeans and into your underwear while still holding the knife against your jugular vein. 

“Better not move. Might end up slitting this pretty throat.” She breathes her words into your ear making you shiver, moving her index against your clit in tight circles “So wet f’ me.” You prop your thighs against hers while holding her arm so you don't fall on your knees from the way she’s toying with you. “Ungh, Ellie please.” She arches a brow in confusion “Huh baby? I don’t get you. You’d better use your words.”

You groan trying to stay still against the cold blade. “Fuck me please Els, I need it.” She grins before inserting a finger into you while still maintaining the agonizing slow pace. 

Having fun with the way your soft noises are growing louder with frustration, she kept her pace at that same almost teasing, steady pace. “Els please.” You whine in her ear, pouting at her. 

Not even a second goes by and shes ramming in the second finger while her thumb is toying with your clit, going slow but hard on you till you feel the burn of how the knife is nicking you with every thrust she’s giving you. The sensation is intoxicating. The pain of the nicks mix with pleasure — a match made in heaven. “Fuck, you’re such a whore.” 

She put her cheek against yours, bodies even closer than earlier, her fingers taking you closer to the edge. Eyes rolling to the back of your head and the sounds of the squelching so loud it’s pathetic. You’re so close your body is starting to shake uncontrollably, she gets the memo and rubs your clit faster. Broken whines in moans fall from your lips as your hand tightens around her wrist. “Don’t fucking stop.” You whispered, a gasp following your words.

“Cum f’ me.” She says in a commanding tone making you feel even closer than ever. “ ‘M cumming Els.” Your voice doesn’t even sound like your own, for the good pain she’s inflicting on you paired with her speed sends you over the edge. You finish, soaking your underwear and parts of your jeans, but it’s definitely a problem for another time.

[bcacstuff]

Day 3 Highlanders 7 con 21 July 2024 at the Hilton Metropole Hotel, Birmingham

Charles Q&A

They only let him do some stunts. The apple "may have" already been cut in half 😅

At his first OL audition (over zoom from his bedroom), he did a Peaky Blinders accent because thought the English all have the same accent - he works hard on it, accents don't come naturally to him

William inherited the "good Fraser fire" from Jamie but learned how to be reserved (a "board") from LJG so he often feels the conflict within himself what he is vs what he was "trained" to be

One of the auditions (all on zoom) was the Death Song scene with JB - it was weird for him to see these "fictional characters" in real life. Couldn't mention the other audition scenes because they're 7B spoilers

He had phantom pain in his arm from the stick. They sent him to London to have a mold made of his arm

He has no piano in his flat but would go to the Edinburgh train station and use the public piano

Dream role: anything - "I love employment" but likes characters that exist between good and evil

Superstitions: not for acting but the supernatural - hasn't used a Ouija board because he doesn't know if they work but what if they do??

William is "a bit of a shit" and a "brat" when we first meet him in 7A

They did audition someone else for William for S6 (those episodes would have been late in 6) but he would have been too young. Since they shortened 6, they didn't cast William until later.

Someone asked whether he was intimidated by S&C. The audience member then went on telling a story how Caitlin before she got to set, was told S&C were a "power couple" and together in real life. Then when she got there she was told opposite (you could hear people gasp when she said that)

While Charles really didn't answered above, he later on was asked what his favourite movie is, he didn't really have one but said he really loved Ford vs Ferrari, so when he met Caitriona he thought "Whoa"

Mom had watched the show but he binged it in 2 weeks when he got the audition - didn't have the part yet

Felt imposter syndrome and a lot of pressure - do I want to take on being Jamie Fraser's son?

Ultimately LJG is William's dad but important for him to find out who is he to learn about himself

This convention is "so fun" because they couldn't answer any questions during the strike and all they were asked were things like "what's your favourite colour"

Scenes that stuck out when he binged: Claire and BJR in Garrison Commander; the shinty scene

Doesn't have a go-to karaoke song - has never done karaoke. But he would do something like Tequila so all he has to say is 1 word (then they played it when he was leaving the stage)

Sophie, Richard & David

Sophie is apparently a favourite "on the internet" to play Harry Potter's mom in the HBO series. She says "I'm working on it" (ie she'd like to do it).

Their favourite locations to film - Sophie Lallybroch (inside and what they created on set); Richard - University of Glasgow; David - Hopetoun House

David making fun of the questions they always get asked (what would you take from set; what other characters would you like to play) - everyone laughs

If they could play another character, Sophie would play Rollo

Certain scene they were really proud of - Sophie birthing scene "broke some blood vessels"; David never thinks he does well - could have done it differently especially the scene where Jamie offers his body;

What cocktail would your character be: Sophie - Spicy margarita; Richard - Old Fashioned; David Pina Colada because he likes the song (doesn't know any cocktails - people were shouting them out to him)

What would you like to learn how to do: David - Magic the Gathering - watched them play last night and wants them to teach him before wrap; Richard is learning to fly

Which time period do you prefer - Brianna 50/50 - Sophie 1700s "corsets aside" especially since they're all filming together. Richard agrees. David: Lord John in modern times is living in the West Village in NYC running an art gallery called Fraser's 🤣🤣

Karaoke songs: Richard's - Piano Man; David - To be With You (Mr Big): Sophie - Party in the USA

Favourite costume - Richard "from this year" but didn't say which one (didn't want to spoil anything); David - Governor of Jamaica (Sophie says you've had some really good costumes and David said you just realized that???)

Favourite scene to film: Richard - driving around the Highlands (felt like our own little "side Outlander"); Sophie - when she confronts Bonnett in the jail (felt very empowered); David - first day, first scene he filmed dragging Sam on the horse "was a highlight on reflection"

Everyone is treated the same by production

Sophie used to be the makeup trailer DJ but Wendy has taken over

The first scene with Roger & Jamie was fun to shoot but he felt Jamie had "a bit of an overreaction"

What are you obsessed with? Richard - Magic the Gathering; David - his son; Sophie - music

Any scenes that you were intimidated by: David one coming up in 7B (we should all know what it is); Richard - intimate scenes; Sophie - ones that are emotionally challenging and you "take with you"

Question about what you're proud of. Sophie tells the story of when she potty-trained her dog. The dog became so excited he jumped on her, split her lip and she ended up in the emergency room. David then says "do you know what proud means??" • Richard - passing his driving test because he failed 3x; David - when he finished his first block of OL

Character you haven't worked with you would like to - Richard & David said each other. Richard: maybe in the next block then Sophie says "but you're in the 80s", someone mentioned Jemmy and the stones and it just went downhill from there 😅; Sophie - Black Jack

During closing ceremonies everyone is taking photos and Cree (of course) says "go on take your photos like we're animals in a zoo". Then he says something about a "gaggle of lusty women" and Sean says "there is if your name is Sam Heughan"

Sean had organized other fan events then started watching Outlander. He wanted to do an event and learned the person to contact is Steve Himber as he "represents" Sam and Caitriona to get it started. Then Steve says he's "not responsible for Steven Cree"

All credits including pics to my friend at the con (who wishes to remain anonymous) Thank you so much for keeping notes for us (and for me to post!) Great Job, well done! 🧡🧡🧡

[peachymilkandcream]

Movie! William Afton NSFW Alphabet

(A/N: The NSFW Alphabets are their canon events I cannot stop this I'm sorry T-T Also please read the warnings, I don't care if it's fucked my guy literally stuffed children into suits he's fucked up.)

WARNINGS: noncon, dubcon, manipulation, domestic abuse, yandere themes, forced marriage, forced pregnancy, stockholm syndrome, violence, mind breaking, misogyny, age difference etc.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex) William is surprisingly considerate, when he has the time to be. Most of his life is wrapped up in the chaos of covering up murders and coming up with new machines that sometimes sex just becomes stress relief and he doesn't have time for more. However when he can be convinced to take time away he really does try and care about his wife and make sure she feels clean and comfortable.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) Deranged psychos and their hands are a thing I'm telling you. The power in behind them is 100% a secret turn on they won't admit. And when you've made your career the work of your hands, (like child murders and a booming business) you can't help but pick that as the favourite. For her, he's not super partial but he really likes her hair, gripping it, pulling it, is what he daydreams about.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) Let's just saw how else did they have four kids, cmon now. ;)

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) While it's not inherently sexual William really loves putting fear into others, and he 100% has a r*pe fantasy that he puts her through often. (Although for her he doesn't tell her that's what happening so it's 'authentic') This includes fake home invasions as well when he gets bored of vanilla sex and wants to "spice things up". Poor girl lives in fear daily.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) He has some before they met, mostly teenage mistakes when he had the time. After he started his career it was rare he did simply because of time. He knows enough of what he's doing, he knows how to make himself feel good and that's all that matters right?

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying) My guy is a ride or die missionary, reverse cowgirl is the only other he'll consider. Anything else is just uncomfortable in his opinion, and again it's about what feels best for him.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.) William's very erratic so it really depends on the mood he's in, how his day has gone if this kids annoy him. He has been known to be more humorous on occasion but it's not often.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) Let's be honest William only gets his hair cut because his wife does it, he doesn't have the time to take care of himself like he should, those are precious moments that could go to his work. So no, he is not well groomed.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect) This again depends on the occasion, usually it's just stress relief so it's quick and usually not very romantic, but if it's a special occasion like an anniversary or birthday then he'll be way more romantic.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon) Same as with his hair, he honestly just never has time XD

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) Big somnophilia fan, probably a slight breeding kink, lingerie (especially stockings), hair pulling, choking, gagging, knife play 100% (he's a serial killer, I had to).

L = Location (favorite places to do the do) Anywhere in the house really, anywhere he can get a moment alone. He used to enjoy when she distracted him in his workshop in the basement but now those old parts bring back haunting memories...

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) Her being a mother to his children, it warms his little black heart and gets him going. As well as any new sets of lingerie she buys or he buys for her.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) She wouldn't but if she tried to dominate him, he would nope the fuck out of there. My guy is an S tier misogynist and believes his wife should be beneath him literally and figuratively.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) He prefers receiving simply because it plays into the whole gagging thing. Her gagging on his dick as he face fucks her is so hot to him.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) As stated before it depends on the occasion, special moments require more slow and sensual whereas annoyance or hurry is fast and rough.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) His whole life is about quickies, having just enough time to get himself off is what he usually does.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.) He takes too many risks, if he's not careful he's going to end up hurting her.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?) Obviously when he was younger it was more, but now he's a one or two rounds at most guy.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) No no never, no matter what it is he's come to not trust machines around his loved ones anymore.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) If he's in a goofy mood he will, but most of the time he doesn't have time to sit and tease her.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) He's actually quite loud, groaning and even soft whimpers are his specialty.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character) William has a thing for stockings because that's the first thing he saw her in and he started fantasizing how her thighs would jiggle in them while he was eating her out.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) I'd say he's above average, not too much but enough, he's slightly thick with a few smaller veins.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?) His drive has really changed from wanting to have sex to wanted her to relieve stress. So because of all the stress he's under, it's pretty high.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) William is out like a light after, dreaming about his victims or how he disposed of bodies. Solid sleeper while his wife lays awake plagued by waking nightmares of her own.

[elliespillowprincess]

SHES MY DRUG

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pt 1

pt 2

pt 3

a/n: this is my first ever (kinda) fic so it kinda sucks and is all over the place.. rockstar/band ellie has been on my mind too much lately so yk i had to.

c/w: modern au, reader is in college (premed), biker ellie!!! smut next part!! mentions of smoking, drinking and drugs (reader and ellie), fem reader, plus size reader, insecure reader, fluff, abby is readers mean ex (abby lovers im sorry, i still love her) angst, body dysmorphia, fatphobia, race of reader not specified, TERRIBLY WRITTEN, not proofread

WHY YOU SHOULD NOT SUPPORT NEIL DRUCKMANN

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“hey did you hear about the music festival in town this weekend?” your friend, liliana, asks, making you wake up from the trance your computer put you in. you and liliana had been friends prior to college, meeting in your honors anatomy class in high school. with a similar career goal in mind, you two decided to go to the same college and become roomates. you two had been in your towns coffee shop for hours, trying to finish an assignment your biology professor gave you two.

“there’s a festival here? nobody ever comes out here.” you reply. nobody has ever done any concerts, festivals, or performances in your town. it was so small, they wouldn’t make enough profit so it just didn’t seem worth the trip. the only performances you ever saw were done by drunken men in your college bar.

“yeah! i don’t really know anyone that’s going though. it’d be nice to check out!”. she scrolls to find a post advertising the festival, with a list of who’s going. to nobody’s surprise, the list is small; 3 performers. “the tickets are only $50, we should go!!” she says whilst you’re reading the informative post. “i don’t know, lili, i mean who even are these people? is it even worth our money?” the idea of wasting your weekend at a festival, where you don’t know anyone playing, when you could be studying for finals makes you nervous.

“come onnn y/n, we can’t waste our uni years studying all the time! when we graduate, we’re gonna be swamped with med school work, might as well make the most out of the time we have!” liliana says cheerfully. sure, you could spare the hours, but you had so much on your plate. finals, work, and not even mentioning the fact you just broke up with your girlfriend of 4 years. you look at her face, she’s using puppy-dog eyes to hopefully persuade you into going. “i’ll think about it.”

you’re laying in your dorm room, back hunched over your laptop, with your hands in your hair. liliana was staying at her boyfriends house for the night, leaving you all alone. the amount of studying you’ve done in the past hours giving you a throbbing headache and double vision. you harshly close your laptop, saying “i’ll do it later.” in your head, lazily getting up to grab some advil from your medicine cabinet. you open the familiar bottle and pop a few pills into your mouth. walking to your bed, you plop down, and begin scrolling mindlessly on instagram.

then you remember what your friend was telling you about earlier, and you decide to look at your towns instagram. a new post making you curious as nothing had been posted since the fourth of july fireworks at the towns lake. you click on it, a flashy banner lighting up your screen.

GOLDWHIT GROVES FIRST EVER MUSIC FESTIVAL; FEATURING:

BEHIND THE ANGER

ELLIE WILLIAMS

DRAW MY BLOOD

THIS SATURDAY ONLY

you chuckle, finding the names of the bands amusing. one of them, however, drew your attention. the only one who was seemingly a solo performer, ellie williams. you decide to close your towns page and type the name into your search bar. your eyebrows raise at the amount of fan accounts this “ellie” has. you click on the only account with the blue verification symbol on it, her page filling your screen.

holy shit.

she was hot. like, really hot.

you click on her most recent post and it’s a video of her at one of her concerts. she’s playing an electric guitar furiously with gritted teeth. you hear girls screaming and see their hands reaching out trying to feel her. clearly, she craves all the attention so she pulls off her white wife beater, throwing it into the crowd. the screaming only intensifies as she has a douchey smile on her face. the video cuts of and you scroll through the different videos the post has, all of the same nature. you read the caption, “see you next time, dallas.” with no tags.

you open your messages app and begin typing to liliana.

you: ok maybe we should go to that festival i just stalked one of the performers and FUCKKK she’s hot

the bands have goofy names tho

“behind the anger” boy shaddup

you wait until you see the bubble appear, indicating she’s responding.

lili😦: TOLD U WE SHOULD GO! venmo me the money im buying tickets rn.

you laugh softly at her excitement to go, and open venmo, sending her $50. another message pops up.

lili😦: *photo attachment*

who were you looking at btw?

you open the message seeing the qr code for your ticket.

you: that ellie williams chick she looks like an asshole but a HOT asshole yk

i want her to play me like that guitar

gonna become a groupie😋

your tiredness takes over after texting lili for the past few hours, telling her goodnight and closing your phone.

the brightness of the morning sun wakes you up. it’s saturday, and thank GOD you had no classes today. you stay in your bed, opening tiktok. it kinda creeps you out that the first video is an edit of the girl you were gawking over last night. as the edit plays, you become even more excited for the festival later in the day. you look to the top of your screen for the time, 12:37. you partially curse yourself for letting yourself sleep in that late, getting up to brush your teeth.

lili😦: ARE U EXCITED FOR TN??

andrew is asking if he can come

smh he’s so clingy

kinda cute tho

the pinging of your phone causes you to finish brushing your teeth, spitting out the foam in your mouth and wiping your face.

you: i don’t mind

yall better not be like those concert couples

sitting on his shoulders n shit i’ll knock you off

you didn’t really mind as you’ve known andrew as long as you’ve know liliana. they’ve been together for the past six years, and you guys used to go on double dates with your ex all the time, it was like a little group.

lili😦: LMFAOOO we won’t

can we get ready tg 🥺

you have all the cute body glitter

you: sure come home whenever

you turn on the shower, grabbing a towel from the cabinet before hopping in. while washing your body, you begin thinking about what you’re gonna wear. you start to think about what ellie williams would notice you in, before laughing at yourself for being so delusional. she doesn’t know you, or care about you.

you’re just another girl.

hours had gone by, liliana and her boyfriend were hanging out at your shared apartment, pregaming and getting ready. the festival started at 4, and ended at 10. “hey y/n? where’s the-“ you walk in, and liliana is making a gawking face. “you look SO hot hello?” beaming at you. partially, you feel a little silly. you’re wearing the outfit she picked for you: a lacy cami, short black skirt, and a leather jacket. you have dark smudgey eye makeup, dark red lipstick, and star clips in your hair.

“i feel dumb.” you say, looking down and laughing at yourself. you never wore revealing clothes, being wayyyy too insecure to show yourself off this this. i mean, your boobs were spilling out of your shirt, your ass visible under your skirt, and your stomach uncovered. “shut the fuck up, you look good. we gotta leave soon- shit wait do you have pasties?”

as andrew drives the three of you to the concert, liliana in the front and you in the back, you become nervous. what if someone’s mean? what if something bad happens? what if it gets too cold? what if you start your period?

“y/n?” the calling of your name makes your head perk up. “we’re putting on that ellie chick, gotta know some of the music if you’re gonna SMASH her tonight!!” she says with a giggle. you roll your eyes as lili goes to her music app and selects her top song.

she’s my drug

the title pops up along with a photo of ellie lighting what looks like a joint. the song starts and it eases your nerves, her raspy voice over the melodic electric guitar makes a perfect combination. the excitement for the festival grows once again as the three of you near the festival.

you were kinda surprised at the amount of people that came. it looked like the entire town was there. there were a lot of unfamiliar faces wearing the bands merch. you saw a lot of girls wearing shirts with ellie williams’ tour dates on the back. “i hope the bands aren’t shit.” andrew says, laughing and getting out of the car. “at least we know one of the performers isn’t.” the three of you, out of the car, walk to the entrance. there were old-looking metal detectors that look like they were borrowed from the local police department. you all go through and have your bags checked and tickets scanned, walking towards the one and only stage.

the first band, behind the anger, got on stage. not many people were going crazy, but there were a few drunken men screaming their songs. liliana and andrew were enjoying them, but you were dying for something to drink, craving a shitty festival cocktail and a cigarette. tapping liliana on the shoulder, “hey, guys? i’ll be right back, i’m gonna grab something to drink.” you shout over the music. “alright, don’t take too long! your girlfriend should be out soon!” you roll your eyes laughing and shuffle your way out of the crowd.

walking up to the one and only vendor, you gaze on the menu. different beers, seltzers, cocktails, and liquors. “can i just cut infront of you? i gotta get up there soon.” you hear a voice behind you say. you turn around, partially offended and, holy shit.

it felt like a movie, a book, a fanfiction. what are the chances that she’s infront of you right now? you blink your eyes, not really believing what you’re seeing. nobody’s around you two besides the vendor, shocking as you’d expect girls flocking around her. it’s her. it’s ellie williams.

“excuse me?” you blurt out, not realizing how rude you sounded. i mean, you were just standing there, the only one in line, not moving. was it rude for her to ask. she kind of laughs at you, kissing her teeth. you got a good chance to look at her. she’s wearing cargo pants with a black wifebeater shirt that lifted slightly, allowing you to see what looks like abs, her tattoo covering her forearm, and her hair tied messily in a half-bun.

“i said,” she says, taking a half step towards you, “can i just cut infront of you?” you look around, dumbfounded. “no, you can’t. i’m ordering right now.” you say, matter-of-factly. you spin on your heels and order whatever shitty cocktail your eyes first land on and she chuckles at your behavior. the vendor types it into his tablet. “that’ll be $9.24. cash or card?” you open your purse, looking for the $10 bill you stuck in your purse for this exact reason. of course, like a fucking movie, it’s gone. “sorry just give me one sec.” you say, furiously looking through your purse, embarrassed.

“i got it, put it with mine. lemme get a rum coke.” the girl says flatly, slightly pushing you aside. you roll your eyes at the push and step aside, very embarrassed at the entire interaction. you grab a cigarette from your purse and attempt to light it, but the fluid is all out.

of course. how much more cliché could this get? ellie puts her card away in her wallet and shoves it into her front pocket as the vendor goes to make the two drinks. “need help?” she says, reaching her hand into her pocket and getting out a lighter, it was black and very scratched up. “these are bad for you, y’know?” she says in a cocky tone before grabbing her own and lighting it. the two of you were so far away from the rest of the crowd it that it was almost quiet.

“i’m studying to be a doctor, i know.” you say, the cigarette hanging limply between your lips still attempting to light it. “what’s a smart girl like you doing smoking and drinking then huh? you’re the one who’s supposed to tell people not to.” she says, bringing the lighter to the stick in your mouth and lighting it for you, the closeness of your face to her hands making you nervous. “pineapple cocktail and a rum coke?” you hear the vendor shout; the moment breaks and ellie pushes the lighter into her pocket before grabbing the two drinks, handing you yours before turning around and waving slightly, with the cigarette in her mouth.

“see you up there, doll.”

“bitch you will not believe what just happened” you say, finally making it back to where andrew and liliana were after having to shove through the crowd, almost spilling your drink all over yourself. “i just spoke t-“ the sound of screams interrupts your sentence and people push you and your friends forward, trying to get closer to the stage. you look up to see what is making people so eager, and see her. and holy shit, does she look good on stage. “how are we doing tonight, goldwhit grove?” she says into the mic, making the squeals of the girls around you erupt even louder, some drunkenly trying to take their shirts off before their more sober friends stop them.

after speaking into the mic for a bit about god knows what, you could barely hear her, she strums her guitar making people scream even louder. “what should we start out with?” she slurs into the mic. she looks like she’s on something, but what musician isn’t. you hear people screaming different names you haven’t heard of, before she says “she’s my drug? that’s all yall wanna hear.” she laughs before starting the song. it is her top song for a reason, it sounds phenomenal. you’re trying to enjoy your time, but the amount of people pushing you and stepping on your feet is annoying you.

after a few songs you hear her voice echo, “guys, let’s back it up a bit, you’re crushing people.” part of you wants to think she said that because she was looking at you, but you reality check yourself quickly. nobody listened, and you feel someone step on your heel for the hundredth time, finally deciding to say something.

“did you not hear her? i can barely breathe dude chill out.” you say to the drunken girl behind you. she looks angry, angry that you had the balls to speak up. she shoves you aggressively, making you bump into the person in front of you. now they’re mad at you too, for bumping into them so harshly. you try defending yourself when you feel a cold drink splashed on your chest. your final straw.

you shove your way out of the crowd, leaving behind your friends and deciding you’ll wait until ellie’s performance is over to join them again. once youre out, you make eye contact with the girl on stage. she has her head low and it almost looked like she was looking at you. you get lost on her, she’s playing so aggressively but strategically. before your imagination goes too far, you see her look around to the rest of the crowd, girls screaming when they look her direction.

you walk away, deciding to take a seat on the grass and light a cigarette while you wait. there were a lot of other people sitting around you, assuming they left for the same reason. you’re scrolling mindlessly on your phone until you hear a familiar voice.

“y/n?”

you look up, and it’s her. why the fuck did she have to be here? you were actually enjoying yourself, besides the few rude people, and she had to show up and ruin it all.

“what the fuck are you doing here abby?” you spit out. you’re furious. you haven’t spoken to her in a few weeks, and there were actually days you didn’t think about her at all. “hey, i was just trying to be nice. what are you all butt hurt about?” she says, towering over you sitting on the grass. she always made you feel small, not just physically, but mentally too. you sigh, not wanting to let her control your emotions any longer. the partially-distant sound of ellie’s guitar stopped, making it seem so much more quiet.

“you here with ava?” you spit out at her. she looks like she took that offensively, even though she was the one who cheated on you. “what’s that supposed to mean?” she says back, her tone becoming more aggressive. you push your cigarette into the grass, putting it out and standing up. “what are you wearing?” now that you’re closer, you notice her cheeks are red, and so are her eyes. she’s crossed. you know how she acts when she’s drunk, so you simply gather your things, trying to ignore the entire situation and join your friends. the people who were previously around you had gotten up to go back to the stage as ellie had gotten off.

“where are you going?” it sounds like she expects you to stay. to come running back. to cling to her. “to my friends.” you flatly state while walking away. you feel a hand grab your wrist. “i’m talking to you, y/n. it’s rude to walk away from people when they’re talking to you, y’know?” her tone is that of mockery. like you’re a child and she’s trying to teach you a lesson. “did the breakup make you gain that much weight? god i really ruined you huh?” you try to yank your hand away, “let go of me abby, seriously it’s not funny.” her grip doesn’t subside and only grows stronger, making you wince.

“she said no dude, can you not take a hint?”

you turn around and see ellie walking towards the conflict. this is so cliche. “are you a groupie now?” abby laughs at you, and as soon as she says that ellie shoves her off. as attractive as ellie was, abby was stronger. she was built, and she could take down almost anyone. “stop, this is dumb.” you say as they get close to each other. “yeah, yeah it is. don’t know why i’m getting all mad over a groupie slut. you can have her.” she says, walking out of the venue. you see a ditsy blonde girl following after her asking if she’s okay as she furiously walks, not responding to her. you try not to cry at her words, why does she still have such an effect on you?

“you okay?” you hear ellie asking you, almost forgetting she was there. “yeah- yeah. sorry about that. and thank you.” you say, extremely embarrassed while wiping your tears. she’s just looking at you. not saying anything. she didn’t know what to say.

“wanna go get a drink to cheer you up?”

that’s how you ended up in a random bar, with ellie fucking williams. after she asked you to drinks, she took you to the back stage, careful not to be spotted by any fans, where she grabbed her bags and headed for the exit. she was able to sober up before the ride home. while walking out, girls spotted her, running up and asking for her auto graph. she obliged for a few until one asked to sign her boobs, “i gotta go, girls.” her bodyguards following behind the two of you making them back off. you were expecting a van or a car, but no.

she rides a motorcycle.

she just got hotter.

lifting the seat, she tosses her bag into the large compartment, replacing the extra helmet which she handed to you. your heart was racing, you’ve never ridden on a motorcycle before. you nervously put the helmet on your head. “here, lemme help.” she says, pulling the band tightening the helmet ensuring it’s on tight, before tapping it lightly and swinging a leg over her motorcycle. she reached her bent elbow out, waiting for you to use her to help you get on. you grab onto her arm and swing your leg over, getting more comfortable.

“hold on.”

“so where’d you hear my music?” she says, babysitting another rum and coke looking at you intently. she was careful not to drink too much knowing she had to drive home. the two of you had been at the bar for two hours, just talking. a few people coming up every so often to get her autograph. “i actually just only heard about it the other day, through the festival.” you say shyly, hoping she won’t take offense. she laughs softly looking down. “i guess it’s a good thing for me huh? got another monthly listener and a pretty girl talking to me.” everything she says is so blunt, so easy.

you start to wonder how many other girls she’s charmed with the same line.

“wanna head out?” she says. “you can come back to mine- fuck, i can take you to yours. sorry, that sounded desperate.” she laughs, picking up the two helmets and your purse, handing it to you. with the bill paid, the two of you walked to her bike. she opens the door and waits for you to walk through.

“why don’t we go back to yours?” you say boldly. she looks surprised, and sets her helmet on her bike, placing yours gently on your head. she puts hers on, hops on the bike, and helps you get on.

“alrighty.”

you didn’t know how much you’d actually like being on a motorcycle. there’s so much adrenaline, she’s speeding through cars and air is whipping around the helmet. your chest is pushed tightly to her back, your hands wrapped around her waist. luckily, her wearing her helmet made it impossible for people to spot her, making it an easy ride back to her hotel, the only hotel in town. parking her bike in a designated spot, she holds her arm out allowing you to slide off easily, her following behind you. she opens up the bikes seat, grabbing her backpack, and locks it.

“we should hurry before someone spots you!” you giggle. the alcohol making you feel so light and ditsy, following her to her room like a lost puppy. she pulls the key out and unlocks it, holding the door for you and locking it after you. she tosses her things on the hotels desk as you lay down on her bed. smiling to yourself.

“what’cha smiling about pretty girl?”

you giggle, tapping the bed indicating her to lay next to you. “this doesn’t feel real” you laugh out as she crawls on the bed, “i mean, im living every gay girls dream right now, hello? i’m in a hotel with ellie *hic* williams!!” she laughs at your drunken state, reaching to the bedside mini fridge to grab a seltzer. “you’re cute, y/n”. your ears kinda perk up, not remembering when you told her your name.

“how do you know my name?” you say, squinting your eyes at her. she cracks open the can. “calm down, princess, i heard it when that dick was talking to you earlier.” you notice she becomes a little annoyed. “i’m glad i took money out of her pocket but fuck, i got douches at my show.” she takes a long drink from her can. your rose-colored glasses didn’t even care about abby right now, or how much ellie hated her from their first interaction, you just wanted more of her.

you snuggle closer to her, wanting to breathe her in. you’re on the left side of her, laying on your side as she’s on her back. the level of intimacy between the two of you makes your head spin. you guys just met. part of you feels bad that she, a fucking rockstar, probably wants more than a simple conversation and cuddling. you sit up slightly, trying to remove your shirt, “hey, what are you doing?” she says, looking confused. you’re struggling to take your shirt off, it being tight and you being drunk. “feel bad. you probably get girls eeeeveryday doin this.. know why you’s wanted m’here so- so i’ll do it.” your works are slurring and hardly making sense and you’re starting to get frustrated. partially from not being able to take off the uncomfortable shirt, and part from not wanted anything sexual now, not in this state and not when you hardly know her.

she grabs your hands and stops you, making you look at her. “hey, i don’t wanna do anything, ‘kay? we can watch a movie after i get you some clothes to change into.” you put your arms down watching her get up and get an oversized band tee. “don’know if it’ll fit, els.” you say, sadly. she turns around, waiting for you to try it on. “just try it, princess.” you try taking the shirt off again, but just can’t. you get so frustrated you start tearing up, making her turn around and help you. “m’gonna take it off okay?” you nod, lifting your arms as she helps you take your shirt off. “don’t look!!” you say, laughing and pushing her away. she turns around, laughing, “okay, okay” allowing you to put the shirt on and take your bra off from under the shirt. finally, you slip your skirt off.

“done!” you say, smiling watching her turn around as she makes eye contact with you, her face turning pink. she walks towards you, smiling down at you on the bed. “wanna watch a movie?” she asks, picking up a remote and a bag of what looks like joints, pulling one out along with the lighter in her pocket. you nod, asking “can i have one?” she closes the bag, replying “you’re way too drunk, sweetheart.” she flicks on the tv, putting on whatever shitty movie was playing on the hotel tv at the time. you both crawl under the bed, cuddling up into her. you hear a familiar click of the lighter, and the sound of the paper and weed burning. she plays with your hair, making you more and more sleepy, drifting off into a deep sleep state.

the next morning, you wake up unsure of where you are. you look around the room, its messy and there’s clothes, food, and drinks everywhere. you lift your head and look to the right and see none other, than ellie williams.

what the fuck happened last night?