You’re hanging out with Ellie Williams in her room, the dim light barely illuminating the posters on her wall. It’s one of those lazy afternoons where neither of you felt like going to class, so you both ended up here, sprawled across her bed. The faint hum of an old record player echoes in the background.

Ellie’s lying on her side, her arm propped under her head as she watches you. There’s something playful in her eyes, that mischievous glint she always gets when she’s about to say something that’ll make you blush.

“You ever been with a freak?” she asks, her voice low and teasing.

Your eyes widen, a smirk tugging at your lips. “What do you mean?”

Ellie shifts closer, her knee brushing against yours. “You know…” She drags her fingers along your arm, her touch sending shivers down your spine. “The kind that doesn’t follow the rules.”

“I’m a freak, handcuffs, leashes…” The lyrics of Freak by Doja Cat seem to echo her words, as if the song was narrating the moment.

You feel the heat rise to your face, but you can’t look away. “And what if I like that?”

Ellie raises a brow, her smirk growing. “Then maybe…” She leans in, her lips just barely brushing against yours. “You’re more like me than you let on.”

“Switch my wig, make him feel like he cheatin’…” The beat pulses through the room, and you’re fully aware of how close she is now.

“Ellie…” you murmur, but she just grins, her hand trailing down to rest against your thigh.

“Don’t be shy,” she whispers, her voice dripping with that playful edge. “I don’t bite… unless you ask me to.”

The air feels heavier, thick with tension and something else — excitement, maybe. The song keeps playing in the background, the words mingling with the heat between you.

“Let me be your fantasy and play with you…”

Ellie’s lips finally meet yours, soft but full of intention. It’s slow at first, but the moment her fingers thread through your hair, you’re done for. The world outside doesn’t matter anymore. It’s just you, her, and that damn song setting the mood.