#jack champion x reader

[dracarysdream]

“and then there were no new posts in the _____ x reader tag”

[mrs-meeks-martin]

did you ever do the ethan landry econ kinktober i can’t find it 😢

I WAS AT ECON!

KINKTOBER ENTRY #6.

summ. was he really at econ, or was he too busy fucking you?

warnings:(almost) caught in the act, dom-ish ethan, subbish reader, ethan isn’t ghostface in this fic haha, secret relationship, immediate sex flashbacks, pretty much all smut, chad yells at ethan for like two seconds, reader rides ethan, use of y/n once :>

ethan was always an easy target. whether it was bullying, rumors, what have you. especially the ghostface rumors. he was always susceptible to those due to his quiet demeanor and weird interests in the stab movies. he knew it would come back to bite him someday-

for perfect example, right now. chad is ripping ethan a new one because this is the third time he hasn’t been present when ghostface showed up. coincidence? he thinks not. it just so happens that ethan doesn’t have an explanation.

chad is usually never the angry type, but he seems to have made an exception for ethan. “this is the last time im tolerating this shit. your story better be straight, or else i rip your throat out right here-”

all of the sudden, ethan blurts something out.

“i was at econ! i mean, me and y/n were studying for econ. a-ask her, she- she knows! i swear-”

chad looks at you, as if for confirmation. he raises a brow, and you slowly nod, almost hesitantly, validating his story. little do they know..

YESTERDAY

ethan’s cock finally impales you fully as you fully sit down on it, the dull, crown-like head brushing your sopping walls, eliciting a soft moan from you. “eth, fuck..”

“a-are you okay? you’re okay, right?- fuck!” all of the sudden, you start bouncing. you set a brutal pace, ethan’s toes curling in a last ditch effort to get him from cumming so quick. “wait, wait- holy shit-”

and then a knock on the door gets the attention of both of you.

“hey- ethan? do you know where chad is?” mindy’s voice, easily recognizable echoes through the door. he panics, but it doesn’t stop you. you keep riding him slowly, in desperate need for more friction. he snaps his hips up, making you bite your lip hard enough to draw blood just so you don’t make noise.

“don’t- don’t fucking move.” he whispers shakily, getting ready to answer mindy’s question. he clears his throat as he speaks. “oh, yeah- i think he went out- shit..”

“he went out? are you serious? he told me that he’d be here!” she groans dramatically, and ethan can easily infer that she’s most likely sinking down on the wall right now. not that it matters, anyway- because he’s too busy sinking his cock into your plush walls. he bucks his hips, grabbing yours to still you as he softly thrusts into you, giving you the friction you wanted.

“y-yeah, must suck- aah-” ethan lets out a strangled moan as you clench him particular hard, causing mindy to start.

“are you good?”

“yeah- just- um.. just cut- cut myself. shit…” he blabbers out a half-assed lie, his brain working solely on the desire to fuck you.

“do you want to help me look for him, or…?”

“o-oh, um, i-im- cumming! fuck- u-uh…” he finally reaches his climax, his hot cum pouring into you. bummer, you didn’t even get to finish. as black and white specks fade from his vision, mindy calls out to him.

“i’ll give you like, six minutes to get ready then, loser. im serious, ill leave you!”

“r-right…” he groans, slowly pulling you off of him. “i’ll pay you back, i swear. im sorry-” he cringes, seeming a bit embarrassed.

“who’re you talking to?” what the- mindy’s still here?!

“nobody!!”

a/n: i know i don’t really use y/n that much anymore but i really couldn’t find another way to incorporate it and im already irritated as fuck. this is the best yall gonna get.. im so burnt out lel

[sturnsluv]

Just This - E. Landry

fem!reader x ethan

Summary: Since Chad is home, you and Ethan can't go all the way, so you have to settle for this

Warnings: smutty, dry humping, soft dom!ethan, use of y/n, little hints at Ethan being ghostface

You're spending yet another night at Ethan's dorm, but unfortunately for the two of you, Chad was home, meaning you couldn’t be your fun, authentic, loud selves. You were both sitting in his bed watching an 80s slasher you had never seen before, your head rested on his chest, and his arm was wrapped around you. His other arm was holding up your thigh, which was draped across his lap as he lightly drew shapes on your skin.

“This is so unrealistic,” Ethan says, getting overly picky at the movie's murder choice, “That would never work in real life, this is stupid.” He scoffs, his hand squeezing your thigh.

“Okay, buddy, you don’t gotta get so passionate, it’s just a movie,” you giggle at him, putting your hand on his chest.

“Like seriously, this is embarrassing for them, at least show a little realism,” Ethan complains, shaking his head at the TV. 

You chuckle at his frustration, because it's unneeded, this scene certainly doesn’t matter to you, but whatever, he can do him. You’re getting a little bored with it at this point, and look up at Ethan putting a finger on his chin and pulling his face in the direction of yours.

“Hi,” you grin at him cheekily, letting your hand fall back to his chest now that you’ve got his attention.

“Hi, pretty,” Ethan replies in almost a whisper, his hand moving from your thigh to your face, cupping your cheek gently. 

You lean into his lips, catching them with your own, sitting up a bit to gain better access. Ethan's lips press harder into yours, deepening the kiss, letting his tongue slip past his lips into your mouth. You moan into his mouth, letting your tongue wrestle his, your hand trailing down his stomach and pushing back up under his shirt. Ethan smiles at your action, your kiss breaking shorty before he pulls you onto his lap and swiftly reconnects your lips, his hands finding your hips. 

“Mmm, take this off,” you mumble, tugging on his shirt.

Ethan pulls off his shirt in one quick motion, revealing his toned chest to you, which you immediately latch your hands onto, feeling up his abs. Ethan moans, pulling you closer to him and starts to kiss up your neck, his tongue leaving his mouth to lick and suck, leaving dark bruises on your skin. Your hips grind into him at the feeling, a breathy whimper fleeting from your mouth as your head drops to rest on his shoulder. Ethan’s hands run up and down your body, reaching in front of you to grab your clothed breasts, squeezing aggressively.

“Ethan, I need you,” you manage to get out, pushing your hand down to his belt buckle.

“No, Y/N, we can’t,” he stops you, looking into your eyes.

You reply with a moan, not wanting to hear his excuse about how Chad’s room is right next door, and his creaky bed won’t help your case.

“Here, baby, let's just do this,” he says softly, and he pulls your hips down onto his, moving you against his growing bulge. You whimper, though it’s not what you wanted, it’ll do. You continue to grind your hips down onto his, his thin sweatpants not hiding how much he needs you, and your shorts are practically soaked through. Ethan’s hands grab at your hips, guiding you how he wants you, his lips finding yours again, mixing your tongues together.

“Feel good, baby?” Ethan whispers into your ear.

“S-shit…yes, Ethan,” you whimper out, your hips grinding down harder onto his and your hands reaching out to tug his hair.

“Fuck, I love when you say my name like that, y/n,” Ethan breathes out heavily, his dick getting harder if that was even possible. He acts out of impulse and quickly flips you over, his heavy body now hovering above you, to which you gasp in response. Ethan quickly gets back into action, his hips slamming back to yours.

“Ethan!” you yelp. The new angle gives much better access, and even through his pants, you can feel his tip hitting your clit. “Just like that,” you whimper, your hips bucking up into his. 

“Shh, baby, you need to be quiet,” Ethan demands, his hand reaching up to slide over your mouth. You quickly nod in response, your eyes closing, squeezing tight. “Nooo, look at me y/n.”

At the sound of his request, your eyes quickly shoot back open, not wanting any disobedience to stop his movements. 

“Good girl,” Ethan coos, “You’re doing so good, baby,” he says as his cock slides against you.

“I'm c-close, Ethan,” you heave out, your voice still muffled by his hand. Your legs start feeling shaky from his ministrations, and you're sweating buckets. 

“Me too, me too,” Ethan repeats, his actions quickening, a groan falling from his lips. His legs start to shake just a bit, and you know for sure he really is getting close. Ethan pounds his hips down harder against you, and you spread your legs farther, allowing him to reach your clothed pussy even better. 

“F-fuck y/n, gonna cum,” is all Ethan manages to get out before a moan falls from his lips, and your own whimpers follow, your eyes watching his face as his head tips back and he falls apart, your body following in sync with his. Ethan's hips slow as he comes down from his high, and he removes his hand from your mouth.

“What do you say, baby?” he grins at you expectedly.

“T-thank you, Ethan,” you pant out, a smile growing on your lips. 

“Of course, sweet girl, let's get comfy now,” he replies softly, his body moving off of you. Ethan settles back against his bed, and he pulls you to lie on top of him, his hands finding their way to your hair, playing with it slowly.

“Bedtime, baby,” Ethan whispers, pressing a kiss to your head.

“Mhm,” is the last thing you can remember saying before drifting off to sleep.

i have never written anything like this before eek ! reqs still on!!

[aeralux]

Just imagine teasing a subby!Ethan after he’d been a brat… 𐔌՞ ܸ.ˬ.ܸ՞𐦯

𝜗ৎ nsfw 𝜗ৎ

Ethan was in your bed, back against the wooden headboard with his hands cuffed behind his back. Your pink fuzzy handcuffs on him this time. It was a bit unusual at first—taking control rather than letting him lead in the bedroom. But as soon as you saw those big brown puppy eyes staring up at you… it didn’t take much else to shove him into the mattress and straddle him.

He got himself in this situation. Being a brat at a party that you and your friends were at. Constantly trailing behind you like a lost puppy and clinging to you. Even kissing and slobbering on your neck while poor Tara and Mindy had to watch. He didn’t listen to any of your warnings either, just groped at your boobs and the hem of your crop top shamelessly.

The sight of his shaft glistening with lube, the way it pulses and twitches with each beat of his heart, makes my core clench and ache with desire. I can't help but grind my hips against his thigh, seeking some much-needed friction. The thin lace of my panties is soaked through, clinging to my swollen lips and dripping with my arousal.

You lean in close, your glossy lips brushing against Ethan's ear as you whisper, “Mmm, doesn't that feel nice though? Having my hands all over this big, hard cock?”

“I bet you wish it was my tight little pussy gripping you instead, don't you baby?” You purr, your hot breath fanning over his skin. “Too bad you're all cuffed up and can't have what you want...“ You giggle again, giving his cock a patronizing pat before trailing your fingers up to circle his nipples, toying with the sensitive buds until they stiffen under your touch.

Ethan lets out a low, strangled moan as your fingers circle his nipples, the sensitive buds stiffening and pebbling under your teasing touch. His back arches off the bed, his abs flexing as he grinds his hips up to meet your hand.

His cock is leaking constantly now, drooling all over your hand and dripping down onto his balls.

The lace of your panties is thin and damp, and he can feel the heat of your core even through the fabric. It makes him crazy, knowing that you're just as turned on as he is, knowing that you're teasing him on purpose.

You can’t help but let out a moan as you pump his cock. The lube making obscene squelching noises as you pump him slowly from base to tip. Shlick, shlick, shlick... the sounds fill the room, mingling with your ragged breaths and needy whimpers.

Ethan lets out a low, guttural moan as your hand wraps around his balls, squeezing and massaging them. Coating them in lube as well, making him messy.

But then you're grinding against him, your hips rutting against his muscular thigh, and Ethan can't help but moan like a bitch in heat. He can feel the heat of your core even through the thin, damp lace of your panties, and it makes him crazy with lust.

His voice is a low, desperate rasp as he murmurs, “Fuck, baby... that feels so fucking good. Don't stop, please don't stop. I'm so close... I'm gonna... fuck... I'm gonna cum...”

You pause your movements, gripping the base of his throbbing cock tightly between your thumb and index finger. A wicked grin spreads across your lips as you watch Ethan’s shaft twitch and pulse in your grasp.

Leaning in close, you whisper huskily against his ear, your voice dripping with mocking amusement, “Oh, I don't think so, puppy. You really think I'd let you cum that easily?” You punctuate your words with a sharp squeeze to his base, making him gasp and buck his hips.

“Silly puppy… I haven’t given you permission yet.”

Ethan lets out a strangled groan as you squeeze the base of his cock, his hips jerking up involuntarily as he tries to thrust into your grip. His shaft is throbbing and pulsing, the head a deep, angry red and leaking constantly. He's so close to the edge, so desperate for release, but he knows that he can't have it. Not until you say so.

He can feel the cruel amusement in your voice, the mocking laughter that makes his heart race and his cock jump. Ethan's eyes are wild, his pupils blown wide and dark with lust as he stares up at you. His chest is heaving, his abs flexing with each ragged breath.

Ethan's voice is a low, desperate rasp as he murmurs, “Please... please let me cum, baby. I can't... I need... fuck, I need it so bad. I'll do anything... anything you want. Just please... pleas.” He's begging now, rambling and pleading as he grinds his hips up against your hand, seeking some kind of friction, some kind of relief.

You couldn't help but laugh cruelly at the pathetic sight of Ethan begging so desperately for his release.You let go of his throbbing cock, only to smack the shaft lightly, watching him wince at the sudden contact.

Pressing your thumb into the weeping slit of his cockhead, you cooed mockingly, “Look at that, so much sticky precum. You must really like being treated like a needy little puppy, don't you Ethan?” You purred, your voice dripping with false sweetness.

Ethan lets out a sharp hiss as you smack his shaft, his hips jerking back instinctively at the sudden sting of pain. But it's quickly replaced by a low, guttural moan as you press your thumb into the weeping slit of his cockhead, his body shuddering at the intense sensation.

“Fuck yes... I love it. I love how you tease me, how you make me beg for it. I love being your puppy, your toy to play with.”

You grin wickedly, wrapping your fingers around Ethan's throbbing shaft and starting to pump it at a rapid pace. The slick lube allows my hand to glide smoothly up and down his impressive length, from the base to the leaking tip.

“That's it, puppy. Doesn't that feel amazing? I can see how much you love having your pretty cock played with. I wonder how long you'll last before you make a mess all over my hand?” You giggle wickedly, squeezing his shaft a little tighter as you continue your relentless pumping.

Ethan's body is trembling uncontrollably now, his muscles tensing and flexing as he fights the urge to explode. His cock is throbbing and pulsing in your grip, the head a deep, angry red and leaking constantly. He's never been so hard, so desperate, and the feeling of your hand pumping his shaft at a rapid pace has him seeing stars.

Ethan's voice is a low, strangled rasp as he murmurs, “I can't... I d-don’t... hnngg... I’m so fucking close.”

His abs clench and unclench, sweat dripping down his chest as he grunts and whimpers pathetically. “I'm gonna... I can't... please...” He's begging now, no longer able to form coherent sentences. His eyes squeeze shut, his head thrown back as he grits his teeth, trying with every fiber of his being to hold back the tidal wave of pleasure threatening to crash over him.

You grin wickedly, pulling your hand away from Ethan's throbbing cock at the last second.

Leaning in close, you coo teasingly, “Aww, what's the matter puppy? You gonna cum already? I thought you could handle more than that.” You trail a single finger up his shaft, feeling it jump and twitch at your touch.

Ethan lets out a strangled, desperate moan as you pull your hand away, his hips jerking up off the bed as if trying to follow your touch. His cock is throbbing and pulsing, the head a deep, angry red and leaking constantly. He's so close to the edge, so desperate for release, that the sudden loss of stimulation has him seeing red.

Ethan's chest is heaving, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps as he stares up at you with wild, desperate eyes. When you lean in close and taunt him, Ethan's heart clenches in his chest, a mix of frustration and desperation warring within him.

His voice is a low, desperate rasp as he murmurs, “No, please... I can handle it. I can handle anything you want to do to me. I'm your puppy, your toy... I just... fuck... I need...”

"Aww, listen to you. Gonna cry?" You coo mockingly. "Go on then. Cry, beg.” You trail a finger along his thigh, the muscles jumping and trembling beneath your touch.

Ethan's voice is a low, desperate whimper as he murmurs, “Yes... yes, I'm gonna cry. I'm gonna fucking cry if you don't let me cum. Please, please let me cum. I need it so fucking bad... I need you to say it's okay.”

Ethan just stares up at you with those wild, pleading eyes, his body trembling and his heart racing as he waits for your command. Waiting for you to tell him that he can have his reward, that he can finally find the release he so desperately craves. “Please... please say it. Say you'll let me cum. I'm begging you...” He whimpers, his voice breaking on the last word.

[iamasimperyk]

Sick addiction -Ethan Landry

Summary: You started hooking up with Ghostface a while ago, now he reveals his identity

Warnings: MDNI, smut, sex, oral sex, finger fucking, mention of blood, bad language, angst, English is not my first language, not proof read

Pairing: Gf!Ethan Landry x fem!reader

The blocked number had become your addiction. Every new location, every command, sent a sick thrill through your veins that muted the voice in your head telling you to stop.

You didn’t know his name. You didn’t know his face. You only knew the terrifying way your body craved the danger, the way you got wet the second you saw his messages light up your screen.

Tonight was no different. He sent you a location with a small text saying, “11:30. No panties, I want easy access when I bend you over.“

You obeyed. Of course you did.

Rain lashed your bare thighs under the oversized hoodie as you pushed open the side door of an abandoned building.

Ghostface stood tall in the center, in his black robe, and white mask that glowed under the light. The hunting knife dangled from his gloved fingers, still wet with blood.

You felt fear creeping up on you as you walked down the aisle, the cold air teasing your exposed private parts with every step. You stopped right in front of him, legs trembling, and slowly lifted your hoodie, showing him how obedient you were.

“Good girl. Already dripping down your thighs for me.” You heard his mocking voice, as he cupped your chin, with one of his gloved hands. The other slid under the hoodie, two thick fingers dragging through your soaked folds before pushing inside you without warning.

You gasped, knees buckling as he curled them deep.

“So fucking wet,” He growled, looking down at you, “You touch yourself thinking about this? About a masked stranger who could slit your throat while he fucks you?”

You nodded desperately, hips rocking against his hand. He pumped his fingers faster, thumb circling your clit, as your moans echoed through the empty building.

When your walls started fluttering, he pulled his hand away, “Not yet.”

He shoved you onto your back on a nearby table, the wood rough against your skin. He yanked up your hoodie, before spreading your legs wide, mask tilting as he stared down at your dripping cunt.

“Please,“ You let out a quiet moan.

“Please what?“

“Please, I wanna feel you inside me.“

Without saying anything else he hovered over you, robe parting just enough to free his thick cock. He stroked himself a few times then lined up and slammed it inside you in one brutal thrust.

You let out a scream, nails digging into his shoulders through the fabric as he started fucking you. He kept one hand on your throat, squeezing just enough to make your head spin, while the other rubbed your clit in circles.

“Look at you,” His mask inches from your face, “Getting fucked by Ghostface in some abandoned place like the pathetic little slut you are.“

You gasped between moans, legs wrapping around his waist, not caring about a word he said.

He let out a small chuckle, picking up his speed. When he pinched your clit, you shattered, squirting all over his dick.

He groaned,as he buried himself even deeper, before flooding you with hot, thick cum.

He stayed inside you, mask resting against your forehead. And all of a sudden he reached up with both gloved hands and pulled the mask off.

Ethan Landry. The shy guy from Econ you have never talked to before.

Your heart stopped.

“I’m sorry,” Ethan whispered, “I tried to stay away, but after I saw you for the first time I just couldn’t stop thinking about you. I told myself I would only watch, but I needed more. I needed to touch you. To taste you. To hear you moan my name without even knowing it was me.”

Tears burned down your cheeks. You felt him twitch inside you, still half-hard, his cum slowly leaking out.

“You‘re a monster,“ Your hands fisted in his robe, torn between shoving him away and pulling him closer, “I hate you.“

Ethan smiled, rolling his hips to push his cum deeper inside of you.

“No you don’t,” he murmured against your lips, “You’re going to keep letting me fuck you, because now you know exactly whose cock has been ruining you for weeks. And next time, I want to hear you say my name when you come.”

A.N; I am so into writing for Ethan right now so if you have any requests for him don‘t be shy and put it in my inbox😏

[ephmeralss]

𝓂𝓎 𝒶𝓃𝑔𝑒𝓁 — ethan landry

₊˚⊹♡ ethan landry x fem!reader

summary — post richie's funeral, ethan's drunk and you're there to comfort him.

cw — hurt/comfort, angst, talk of dead relatives, talk of not missing dead relatives LMFAO, no use of y/n, curse words.

wc — 1.7k

a/n! — this is rlly sickening ETHAN LANDRY THEY DON'T GET U LIKE I DO BABY

Ethan's eyes burned. His cheeks stained red, his face blotchy from the cries that wracked his body.

Richie was dead. His older brother was dead. And the worst part? He didn't miss him. Not even a little bit. Richie was always the golden child, had that bond with their father that neither him nor Quinn would ever have. He never did anything wrong, not even when he took out three people on his way to the afterlife.

Not to mention attempted to kill a fourth, Tara. The funeral wasn't even over before his father was planning his revenge on the Carpenter sisters. Ethan was supposed to go to college in a few months, enjoy his life away from his family but now his father wanted him to change schools all for this plan to avenge Richie.

Even in his death he was the favorite. Even in his death, Richie was controlling Ethan's life. And maybe that was what he was mourning the most. The fatality of his future. He tilted his head back as he finished another beer, stumbling into his room. Quinn and his father were still at the funeral home, Ethan bailed as soon as he could, made up some shit excuse about needing air.

Ethan tripped over the clothes on his floor, his cheeks wet with tears he hadn't realized he was still shedding. He dropped the beer bottle, listening to it shatter but the world was spinning, not even noticing the way the glass cut his hand. He was fucked up. The dull buzz in his head being the only thing keeping him together. He didn't bother picking up the glass, he wiped his eyes with the heels of his palms before pressing them against the lids, needing the pressure.

"Ethan?" a small voice sliced through the buzz. Your voice. He turned so fast, he almost lost his balance. You were dressed in all black. He remembered seeing you at the funeral but he dashed out of the church before you could say anything to him. He could lie to everyone else about being sad for his brother. Not you. He couldn't lie to you. You sat on the edge of his bed, concern written all over your face and his hold on himself broke.

"I- I'm fine, really," his words were slurred, his hands gesturing languidly like it took effort to move them. "Really. You know, I—I'm...uh, I really...I just....I don't even miss him, you know?" he spilled out, your chest caving slightly at the sight of him like this. Drunk out of his ass, hurting, and he wouldn't let you help.

"Ethan..." you trailed off, standing up slowly and stepping towards him, holding your hands out calmingly as if he was a deer that you could scare off. You knew his struggles with his family. With Richie. You knew better than anyone, you'd been his best friend since the two of you were in kindergarten.

"No, no, no, I'm- I'm serious. I don't miss him." He threw his arms out, letting out an incredulous laugh like this was funny. You didn't share his humor. "And I know I should. I- I should. But I just can't bring myself to miss that- that—fuck, asshole."

"Okay, okay. Ethan, you're bleeding." You kept your voice gentle, reassuring, despite the panic in your stomach.

Ethan didn't process your words, his eyes filling with tears. "Maybe I'm insane. You know? Like- like he was. Not caring about a life. I mean, shit, killing three people before he died because of his weird fucking obsession with those stupid Stab movies...ballsy as hell. He was going to serve three life sentences in prison and my dad—fuck, he's still making him out to be this fucking saint! Just some dude who did no wrong!"

"Ethan..."

"Oh, but it's fine because he's dead. He did no wrong because he died, right? What a fucking joke. I don't miss him. Did you know he didn't even wish me a happy birthday? He planned the fucking funeral on my birthday. Did you know that he- he just...fuck, he acts like I don't exist. And now he's got me trying to do this fucked up shit and I just...I don't..." He was crying now, fully, his hands running through his curls obsessively.

Your heart broke at how lost he looked, how desperate he was to breathe, to get out of this. You stepped closer until you were in his space, reaching out with one hand to grab the one bleeding while the other gently grabbed his chin. "Ethan. Stop."

Ethan rooted himself to the floor, his eyes finding yours, tears still streaming down his cheeks, his lips trembling, his chin wobbling. "You do exist, okay? You exist to me. Richie was an asshole. And you're not insane for not missing him." You moved your hands up to cup his cheeks, forcing him to keep his eyes on yours. "It's okay...I'm here."

Ethan shattered. His knees gave out, meeting the hardwood of his floor as his arms wrapped around your middle, his tears soaking your dress. Your own mascara was running, your fingers soothing through his hair. “It’s okay…it’s okay…” You repeated over and over. His sobs echoed in the room, your heart heavy as you listened to him cry over the him he could've been. 

You didn't know how long it was before his cries slowed. "C'mon, let's get your hand cleaned up. You also need a shower, you smell like beer." You laughed softly, earning a half-hearted smile from him. It broke you to see him like this.

You sat on the toilet seat as you cleaned the small cut on his palm, the air thick and quiet but not a horrible quiet, the type of quiet you fall into when you're processing. You placed a band-aid over the cut and then brought his palm up to your lips to kiss the spot. It was like magic for him, your kiss making the pain significantly less prominent.

"How was the funeral?" he questioned softly, his voice barely there. He was leaning back against the wall, sitting with his long legs crossed at the ankles.

You frowned. "It was a funeral. I'm not sure if it can be good or bad. Your sister was looking for you."

Ethan sighed, rolling his head back against the wall. "Quinn wouldn't give a shit if I disappeared."

You gave him a sympathetic look, your shoulders slumping as you put away the first aid kit. "Yes, she would. Quinn cares about you...in her own way."

"Did my dad ask about me?"

You hesitated. Ethan rolled his eyes, the drunk haze still there. "Of course he didn't. Never cares about Ethan. It's always been Richie. Even when the fucker's dead."

You settled down next to him, your knees up to your chest as you reached out to grab his hand. He let you play with his fingers, his palm, his eyes on the side of your face, tracing your profile with his gaze. He had it bad for you, always did. Probably always will. You ran the tip of your finger along one of the lines on his palm. "You know, this means you're going to have a long and happy life."

Ethan gave you a skeptical look. "That true?"

You shrugged, giving him a tiny smile. "No idea." That seemed to pull a smile out of him so you filed it as a victory. You stood and helped him up, telling him that he needed to shower.

As he turned on the shower, you moved to leave the room but he grabbed your hand, giving you that look you couldn't resist, especially not now when he was going through so much. "Please?" his voice was soft, broken.

You swallowed harshly and gave a nod, closing the door behind you. You weren't entirely sure of what you were doing but if Ethan needed you? You'd be there. Every single time. 

Ethan stripped, leaving his funeral suit on the floor in a pile, waiting for you before he stepped into the shower. You could tell he didn't want to be alone for even a second. You fiddled with the zipper of your dress, pulling it down and then the fabric over your head, it didn't take you long to rid yourself of your undergarments.

There was nothing sexual about the encounter. He just needed to feel you. To hold you. To know you were there, that you weren't leaving him. That you were staying. The two of you stood under the spray of hot water, his arms around your waist, his face buried into the crook of your neck. "Can you stay?" he asked, pulling you a little closer.

You couldn't say no to him. You nodded again. "Yeah, I'll stay," you breathed, reaching behind you to run your fingers through his hair once more. He relaxed further around you, leaning into your touch. 

"Thank you." He kissed your shoulder. He washed himself, the two of you staying in the shower until the water turned cold. He offered you one of his shirts, changing into boxers and sweatpants. He cleaned up the broken glass, mostly sobered up as you got comfortable in his bed.

He slipped in beside you a few moments later, the words unspoken heavy on both of your chests but he just wrapped you up in his arms again, your head resting against his chest, listening to his heartbeat beneath your ear and you had a morbid thought. You were glad Richie was dead.

If he was still alive, he'd already be in the room, taking the piss out of Ethan. Ethan deserved better. Richie deserved to die the way he did. You laid your arm across his middle, tracing his side with your nail gently. "I don't miss him either," you spoke softly, melting into the way he played with your hair.

He didn't stop. He relaxed further into the mattress. "Yeah?"

You nodded. "Yeah. Your dad's wrong. Happy birthday, Eth." You kissed his cheek, watching the small but genuine smile lift at the corners of his lips.

His free hand moved to run gently across the side of your face, cradling your chin for a second, and then dipping his head to press his lips to yours. You took a second but kissed him back. It was tender, an understanding. When you pulled away, he slid you closer if that was possible. "Thank you...again." He laughed breathily.

You smiled. "You're welcome."

( dividers by @cursed-carmine )

[m6cabre]

crush. ✶

ethan landry x fem!reader .ᐟ cw: mentions of smoking & weapons, ethan being a perv, injuries vaguely described

he was fucking weird. too quiet. too shy. he stared too long, spoke too quick. everything gave everyone an off feeling. but her? she loved it. adored it.

he told her details about his life, how he felt like he would never be good enough for his father—how he would never compete with his deceased older brother. he complained about how his father would tell him to be more like his older brother, and he would try so hard to be. but he would never reach a standard that was too far out of reach.

she was unaware of how truly odd he was. she thought he was merely a boy with a troubled past. she was unaware of the guns and weapons in his dormitory.

he was never really in the friend group he claimed to be in.

"yeah, we hang out a lot."

he'd tell her that with a smile. but she knew chad only brought him along because they were roommates. it brought a pain to her chest.

his hands were roughed up and calloused, for reasons he never disclosed to her. he also smelt so...perfect. so him. musky, but a good musk. like that kind that made him feel real. and she smelt the scent of cigarette smoke that lingered on his breath. she smelt how it lingered on his clothes. she loved it.

she loved his curls. those big, sad puppy eyes. that false innocence he held within them. she loved him.

he loved her as well, obsessively so. he would climb through her window at night, go through her things. sometimes, he'd steal her clothes. most times, he would raid her room and surprise her with gifts that he thought she would based on his 'research'.

she was unaware of what he did for his father—the people he killed, the blood on his hands. she melted into his blood-covered, calloused palms in a moment. she'd snuggle into him, inhaling that comforting scent of his. and he'd press his lips against her forehead and caress her soft skin, like he had not just spent the last night washing blood from his skin and clothes.

when she'd get those gifts, she'd beam and gush, asking how he knew. and would lie.

"just a hunch."

"i saw you like a post about it."

and she believed every word that left his lips. he was her boy. she would believe anything he said. and he reveled in that. not because he could get away with much more—well, slightly because of that. but he reveled in being hers.

how she would guide him around, gripping just his thumb or his index and middle fingers or the side of his hand. how she would guide his hands to her waist, or lean back against him, or melt into him. he reveled in it all. someone thought he was good enough. someone loved him.

when a douchebag beat him up for bumping into his girlfriend at a party, she cleaned his wounds. she gently dabbed disinfectant on his split lip and around his nostrils. she held an ice pack over his black eye and washed the blood from his curly hair. she had wiped away that tears of embarrassment and shame that had spilled while she cleaned his wounds. she kissed his head and told him that she still loved, that she would always be with him—regardless of what embarrassing or stupid things happened.

she would never know about the details of his life that would scare her away; he would not let her find out. when he caught her cleaning his room, he gently led her to his bed and effectively made her forget about her plans to finish cleaning his room. she slept in his arms that night, skin touching his. his eyes lingered on the closet, thankful she had not made it there. she had not found what was inside.

he kissed her forehead gently, squeezing her a bit tighter to his body before shutting his eyes as well.

i got chili roasted pistachios from the store, im so happy rn

[veryberryjelly]

christmas eve ritual

stepbro!ethan landry x reader

happy holidays ! [ lower case intended ]

references to these headcanons in this fic !

𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

after your father left, christmases became a rather bleak affair.

you could remember the first holiday season with just you and your mother. it had been just over a month since you'd been without a paternal figure, and your maternal figure was still in a state of shock. you'd ended up making some pasta for 'christmas lunch' and eating it alone in your bedroom.

in the years since it had become better, your mother livened up and cooked a christmas lunch for the two of you, but it still felt like something was missing.

until the landry's came into your lives.

mr landry had brought life back into your mothers eyes.

and coincidentally his son had done the same for you.

christmas mornings that were previously spent with just yourself and your mum watching a movie in what seemed like a very large and empty house had turned into the four of you crammed onto one couch watching movies and filling the space with laughter and love.

and christmas eve's had become a ritualistic time for yourself and ethan, sleeping in the living room under the guise of simply watching movies together when in actual fact you were able to spend the night with eachother without either of you having to creep around.

at around 8 pm, your parents went to bed, leaving to the sight of the both of you on seperate couches. there was a moment of silence to listen for their bedroom door shutting, and the moment you heard it, ethan was up.

his previously donned blanket was discarded on the floor as he darted across the small space to jump onto the couch with you, resulting in a small 'oof' coming from your lips at the impact.

" how many times do i have to tell you not to do that ?" you questioned through fits of muffled laughter as he pulled up your blanket to join you underneath.

" and you'll have to tell me a couple more times before i stop " he chuckled out against your collarbone as he manoeuvred himself between you and the back of the couch, your back to his chest and his arms wound around your waist.

once he was still, you turned in his hold, his beaming smile warming you more than the blanket could.

a moment of silence washed over the two of you as you simply enjoyed eachothers company and warmth.

after an undetermined amount of time spent staring at eachother, ethan spoke up, his chest vibrating against yours from how close you were to eachother.

" this is still technically a movie night, so what do you want to watch ?" he queried.

you took almost no time to reply, a bright smile overtaking your face as you said it.

" sound of music "

the playful irritance on ethan's face was enough for you to suggest it every year.

you had shown it to him the first christmas he spent with your family, and every christmas eve since, the two of you had watched julie andrews dancing around the mountains.

over the years, as your relationship with ethan developed, the close you had become during the movies.

during the first one you were almost on opposite sides of the room, and now there was barely any room between you at all.

" why do i even bother asking anymore ?" he teased, leaning down to press a kiss to the tip of your nose before reaching for the remote on the edge of the couch while you turned to press your back to his chest once more.

once the remote was set down and ethan's arms both wound wround your frame again, you tilted your head to press a kiss to the small mark on his bicep.

the tiny blink-and-you-miss-it tattoo. your initial.

you were thankful that most blinked and missed it, becuse it made it just that much more special to you.

and every time you so much as brushed it, it sent a shiver down the spine of the boy behind you.

and this time was no different, only with the addition of a tightening around your waist and a kiss pressed to the crown of your head that sent you wistfully off to sleep.

" merry christmas, sweetheart "