#ethan dulles | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

trashytracktales · 3 months ago

Note

Hey! Please do a lando x ex!reader. They break up after a lot of arguments due to being away from each other so much and then they meet a few months later and hook up. Like angst in the beginning then lots of smut.

If it's meant to fall apart | LN⁴

💌 REQUESTED by anon ──── I was actually planning to write something similar for so long. Thank you for the request and I hope you like it 🤍

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𐙚 summary ──── Surprisingly, months apart haven’t dulled the connection between them. After a night of passion and honesty on both sides, maybe there is a future where they can make all the right decisions, after all.

𐙚 pairing ──── Lando Norris x ex!reader

𐙚 rating ──── explicit

𐙚 category ──── F/M

𐙚 warnings ──── +18, mature/sexual content, lots of angst & back-and-forth, fluff & smut, teasing, praising, explicit language, unprotected sex, mention of alcohol and drinking, swearing, not the healthiest relationship I've ever written tbh (the toxicity is implicit tho), overstimulation, pussy-drunk Lando, Max F. & Ethan aka FEEFA cameo.

𐙚 word count ──── 10.6k (Thank you to everyone who voted on this poll I posted the other day, I didn’t expect to see so many 🥺).

𐙚 date ──── Nov. 27, 2024

𐙚 a/n ──── Guys, look. I know it's A LOT 🥴 I kinda let myself run with this one because I haven't posted anything in like a week or so. I still have 2 requests I'm working on, so don't give up on me yet 🤞🏻

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SHE'S NOT ENTIRELY sure how long they’ve been dancing, but she hasn't finished her drink yet. Time feels like an illusion, blurring the edges of her vision with every new rhythm of the night. For the first time in months, she feels a little lighter, her friends’ energy pulling her out of her own head — and apartment, where she locked herself in after the break-up.

The club is packed tonight, bodies pressed together in a sea of drunken, sweaty chaos. Neon lights bounce off every surface, painting the room in vivid purples, blues, and pinks. It's not usually her style — not anymore — but she figured it won't hurt to let lose for a couple of hours.

It’s only when she steps away from the dance floor, her feet hurting and her head buzzing, that she spots him.

Why tonight, of all nights?

Why here, of all places?

Why him, of all people?

He’s leaning casually against the bar, a glass in hand, chatting with a few familiar faces. Faces that she can't help but miss.

She stopped talking to Max — well, Max stopped talking to her after ending things with Lando, too upset that she toyed with his best friend's heart for ‘no apparent reason’. Their friendship dissolved under pressure, fragile as a cheap plastic cup in the grip of sulfuric acid. But Max wasn't the only one who took it personally. That's why she needed to cut ties with everyone from her past. She needed new friends — her own friends —, she needed a new place and new clothes, and to rebrand herself from scratch. Which she did.

She thought she had made it through, but the past has its twisted ways of coming back when you least expect it.

Now, the sight of him, so vivid and real, makes her chest tighten.

She stops in place, hoping he doesn’t notice her, but then his eyes flick in her direction and, for a brief moment, neither of them blinks, the noise around them fading into a dull murmur.

He straightens slightly, his relaxed posture gone as his brows knit together. There’s something unreadable in his body language — surprise? Excitement? Confusion? Pain? She doesn’t know, but it mirrors the knot twisting in her stomach.

Her friends call out to her, pulling her attention briefly, and when she looks back, he’s still staring. Except now, he’s moving, weaving his way through the crowd toward her.

Oh, hell no.

Her heart starts to race, a mix of adrenaline and something far more complicated than fear, as she rushes to walk away; she's fought for far too long, and now her instinct is to fly as soon as she senses danger.

Unfortunately, she's not quick enough.

“Hey,” says Lando when he gets closer, his voice low but audible over the music.

Hearing him gives her goosebumps, hating the way her body is betraying her. It’s been months since she’s heard his voice, but it still hits her the same way: sharp and unrelenting.

She turns around, forcing a smile, “Hi, Lando,” she manages, her voice steadier than she feels, thinking she should try acting if she makes it out alive from this encounter.

“Can I buy you a drink?” he asks, his tone careful, yet extremely suggestive.

It makes her stomach twist again.

He used that line the very first night they met, his boyish grin lit by the dim, flickering lights of another club, in another city. Potentially another life, she's not sure. She remembers the way he had leaned in, so full of confidence and asked the same exact question with a mischievous glint in his eye.

It feels too deliberate now, too heavy with the weight of their past for her to ignore.

“All set,” she finally says, her voice quieter than she intended, as she raises her half-full glass in her hand. “Thanks.”

For a moment, it feels like they’re strangers meeting for the first time. Except they’re not, and their history is hanging heavily in the air between them.

Lando nods, shoving his hands into his jeans pockets, “How about this, let me join you for that drink?”

She takes a look to where her friends are dancing, then she turns back to him, “I'm here with my friends.”

It's a pathetic excuse, she knows that. But she has no time to think of something else. Not when her brain is suddenly all scrambled and can't form a single coherent thought.

Lando frowns, disappointed, but not willing to give up that easy. “Come on, just a quick catch-up and then you can go back to your friends. Mine won't mind,” he shrugs, pointing at the bar, where the others are following their every move like a bunch of curious minions.

She catches Max lifting his glass in her direction, and Ethan, waving frantically.

Against her better judgment, she nods.

“Okay,” she murmurs, “Let's catch up,” she spits the words, sounding a bit too sarcastic. Still, it makes Lando smile.

His shoulders relax slightly, relief softening the tension in his body. He gestures toward a quieter corner of the club, away from the pounding bass and the sea of bodies. His first instinct was to take her hand in his, but since that's over the line, Lando keeps looking back, making sure she follows him. And she does. Like a naive, lost puppy that hasn't learned a single thing in the past five months, apparently.

The crowd surges around them, chaotic and loud, and before she can react, someone stumbles into her, their elbow catching her arm. As a result, she's thrown off balance, her feet slipping on the slick floor. Gasping, she's bracing for the inevitable fall that… never comes.

Lando’s hand shoots out, catching her waist and pulling her upright. His grip is firm, grounding, and suddenly she’s pressed against him, her chest brushing his.

“Careful,” says Lando, his lips close enough to her ear for the voice to cut through the noise.

The spot where he's touching her is burning her skin. She looks up, speaking with a hesitant smile, “Thanks, I'm good.”

The club around them fades away, and all she can feel is the warmth of his hand on her waist and the familiar scent of his cologne — a smell she used to know so well. It is almost intoxicating, and it makes her mouth water. She realizes that's what she was missing the most.

Lando smiles faintly, his hand slipping away as if he’s reluctant to let go. “Always got you.”

She doesn’t know how to respond to that, sensing the double meaning behind his affirmation. So, she nods and lets him guide her the rest of the way.

They find a small, semi-private booth near the exit, far enough from the main dance floor that the music dulls to a manageable volume. He gestures for her to sit first, then slides in across from her.

She fiddles with the edge of her glass, feeling his eyes on her.

“So,” she starts, leaning back against the booth, “You're here.”

Here, as in back home.

“For a week or so, yeah. Got a bit of a break between Brazil and Vegas.”

She nods, emptying the rest of her drink in one go, “How’ve you been?”

Lando shrugs slowly, “Alright. Busy with work and everything,” he trails off, his gaze dropping to her lips for a brief moment. “It’s not the same,” he continues, his smile fading away. “What about you, what have you been up to?”

She needs superhuman powers to stop herself from scoffing in his pretty face. It’s such a simple question, yet it feels loaded, heavy with all the things they haven’t said to each other in almost half a year.

“It's been… peaceful. I moved to another neighborhood. Kept busy, distracted.”

Lando hums, his expression unreadable for some reason. “Yeah, I get that. You look great, by the way,” he states it as a fact, his voice soft but unwavering.

She hesitates, then looks up at him, really looks at him. His face is the same and yet… not really. The boyishness is still there, but there’s a weariness in his eyes that's somehow new. Plus some facial hair she always begged him to try out. It tugs at something inside her, something she’s not sure she’s ready to face. Because it hurts. Because it annoys her. Because, after everything, she's still not over it.

“Cheers,” she replies, hoping he won't catch the blush in her cheeks. “I kind of hoped you would look like shit when I saw you again,” she admits. “You know, I'm talking no front teeth and severely balding. But, oh well. You too.”

Lando's smile widens, making everything infinitely worse for her.

He wears a black shirt that clings to his frame in a way that highlights the muscles in his arms. His black cap is pulled low, worn backwards in that signature way he always did, giving him that effortlessly cool vibe. His eyes are still the same, though. Dark, piercing, the same ones that could make her heart beat faster even after everything that’s happened.

“I thought about you a lot over these months, you know,” Lando finds himself saying, chewing on his lower lip.

She shoots him a surprised look.

As if, she thinks. His Instagram feed would say otherwise.

“You did?” she ends up asking, curiosity getting the best of her.

A hint of vulnerability creeps into his voice, “Of course. I've missed you.”

She laughs dryly, “But it's been good for us, right? We just established we both look great, no constant fighting, no slamming doors, no smashed phones…” she says, looking at him intently.

He can't sustain that for long, so he looks down at his shoes, slightly ashamed, remembering how bad it used to get when the distance between them felt too much to handle. He remembers the frustration, and the helplessness he felt when he couldn’t reach her, because he couldn’t make things right. He did smash his phone once, in a fit of anger, because he couldn’t get ahold of her for hours — not his proudest moment, that's for sure.

Lando swallows hard, “Yeah, it has been nice to have some distance. I guess it makes the heart grow fonder, right?”

“Hmm,” she hums, letting her eyes travel across the room, scanning random faces and wondering how life would be if she were someone else, “I don't know about that.”

She knows, in fact. But the words pause in her throat, too tangled up in memories. When he finally looks up, she's holding his gaze for just a beat longer than she should, and she wonders if he can feel it too — that familiar pull, like gravity, drawing them back together once again.

“I know—” Lando begins, not sure from which angle to approach. “I know it was the right choice at the time, but I can't help but wonder what things could have been if I'd fought harder for you.”

“Come on, Lando,” she laughs, unamused, giving her head a shake, “We would've ended up in another vicious circle, no matter what. It's always like that with us, isn't it?”

A part of him knows she's right. Still, “We'll never know.”

“Well, maybe it's better that way,” she manages, her voice lacking conviction.

“Or maybe it’s not,” he contradicts her, his words carrying a weight that presses on both of them. “You never think about us?”

Another sharp, dry laugh — it's either this, or she'll start crying. “I am actively trying not to,” she admits, her tone tinged with exasperation. “What’s the point, Lan? Thinking about what could’ve been won’t change what happened. You were always gone, and I couldn't spend my life following you around like a headless chicken. We had a good time, but it was never going to last,” she says the last part mostly as a reminder for herself. “Not in those circumstances.”

His jaw tightens. “You think it was easy for me? That it didn’t tear me up knowing I couldn’t be there for you the way you wanted me to?”

“I didn't say that,” her eyes snap to his, “We simply weren't working. We were too good at breaking each other.”

Lando leans back in his chair, frustration visible on his face. He hates that she's right, but it doesn’t stop the ache in his chest.

His jaw clenches, “I just… I don’t want to believe that’s all we were. Breaking each other.”

Her expression softens a little at his words, “Not all. But enough to make us miserable.”

For a while, the air between them feels heavier, the noise fading into the background. He wants to say something, anything, to counter her point, but all he can do is look at her and ask himself if they were, indeed, playing a losing game back then.

“Did you meet someone?” his question flies out of nowhere.

Lando looks at her with anticipation, sensing the hesitation.

“I did,” she replies, nodding slowly.

“And?”

She meets his eyes for a split second before looking away again, fixing her gaze somewhere on the table. “And we're happily married with twins on the way. What do you think? I just. Couldn’t.”

Lando's stomach drops, trying his best to remain calm, his hands clenching into fists. “You couldn’t what? Be with them?”

She shakes her head, her movements slow and deliberate, as if choosing her words carefully. “It was too soon.”

Her answer only leaves him with more questions. “So, what does that mean?”

“I don’t know what it means,” she rushes to say, her tone tinged with irritation. It’s clear she’s as unsure as he is, but that only makes it harder for Lando to process her reaction.

He runs a hand over his face, his exasperation bubbling to the surface. “I’m just trying to understand,” he says, his voice quieter but no less intense. “Because I've also tried.”

She looks directly at him now, her eyes narrowing slightly. “And?” she challenges in the same manner, her tone carrying just a hint of defiance.

“They weren't you,” says Lando, the truth of his statement hanging between them like a heavy anchor.

They remain silent after that.

She wants to ask him why — why he still cares, and why it hurts so much to be in the same space again after all they’ve been through. Nothing comes out, though; she already has the answer to that. They didn't break up because they stopped loving each other. They had both been too caught up in their own worlds to find any kind of balance. That broke them up.

He wants her to speak. He needs to hear her speak. To react. But when she says nothing in return, there is a brief second when he feels like giving up for good; he can't do anything if she's already made a decision. He knows how stubborn she is.

Lando nods to himself while getting up and start walking toward the exit, his thoughts all over the place.

The night air greets them with a quiet, cooling embrace as they step out of the club. Of course she follows, and she hates herself for that. But she can't help it — it's instinct. Like a magnetic force he's always had over her.

On the other hand, it's how they always communicated, through gestures and actions rather than words.

The soft click of her heels against the pavement gives Lando hope. He slows down so she can catch up, and then they walk side by side, without talking. The background noise of the city keeps them company, and by the time she decides to break the silence, he stops abruptly.

His voice sounds so small now, like a child asking his parents why can't he eat his chocolate bar before dinner.

“I know it feels so silly looking back,” says Lando, as though afraid to shatter the superficial peace between them. “We did so many things wrong, but I think we also did a lot of things right.”

She hesitates, her eyes dropping to the ground where a patch of light from a distant street light catches the edge of her shoe. Her arms fold tightly across her chest, while trying to look anywhere but at him.

“Yeah, breaking up was one of the right things,” she says thoughtfully, though her voice has a trace of bitterness behind it. “Before that, we tried so hard to make it work that we ended up burning each other alive.”

It's crazy how simple words can cause physical pain so quickly.

“Yet we're still here,” he reminds her. “Knowing what we know now, maybe we wouldn’t burn so fast this time. And isn’t it worth it, even if it only lasts for a little while? We were so happy at the start.”

That’s what he clings to. The laughter, the stolen moments, the way they fit together so effortlessly — she can’t argue with that. Their beginning was a beautiful dream, but it’s the nightmare that followed that keeps her guarded now, even though all she wants is to crack his ribcage open and slip inside him so they will never be apart again.

Her voice shakes as she tries her best to make him see her side, the memories spilling out like water breaking through a dam. “I had to put myself back together, Lando. Piece by piece. And I was all alone.” She forces herself to meet his gaze, finally, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. “Turns out, our friends were actually your friends, and I had to go through the worst breakup of my life with no one by my side. I had to move, I had to build an entire life from pretty much nothing. And I had to do everything alone, because I didn’t just lose you. I lost everything the moment I made you the center of my universe.”

Her words knock the air out of his lungs, guilt clawing at his insides. “Look, I know I should have been there,” says Lando, his voice barely steady. “Fuck me. I wasn’t supposed to let you go in the first place, alright? I should’ve been a better boyfriend, and I should’ve fought harder to make it work, using what we had then. But you did fuck with my head, and I thought being away would help.”

The first tear spills down her cheek, and she wipes it away hastily, as if she could erase the vulnerability altogether.

“It did help,” she agrees. “I know I can live without it now.”

Lando freezes for a split second, then stepping dangerously closer to her. “So, you’ll be fine if we stay broken up?” he asks, his voice almost a whisper.

She nods, but it’s shaky. And when she takes a step back, trying to put distance between them, Lando decides he gave her enough space. Fuck that. He's not thinking anymore, not with his brain, at least. He closes the distance again, his hands finding her waist and pulling her close in one swift motion.

It’s impulsive, desperate even. But he doesn’t care. The moment he feels her presence in his personal space, the fire he’s tried to smother for months, roars back to life, more powerful than ever. And just like that, everything it's right again. The way her body fits against his, the familiarity of it all, makes his heart race in his chest.

“Stop being so fucking stubborn, baby,” he murmurs into her hair, his voice cracking under the weight of his own desperation. “Why can’t we at least try, hm? You told me it was too soon for someone else. Maybe it’s because it’s supposed to be me.”

Her breath catches at the sudden closeness, at the rawness of his voice. She's unsure of what to do with her hands, until they hover awkwardly by his shoulders.

“You're not fair,” she whispers, her voice slightly trembling. “You can’t just accidentally waltz back into my life and say things like that.”

“I don’t give a flying fuck about being fair,” he says, his voice firm. “I just want us back. Simple as that.”

Her tears blur the edges of Lando's face when she tries to push him away, but his grip won't let her. Not this time.

“It's not that simple, and you know it,” she says. “We’ll only end up hurting each other again.”

“Then we hurt, so what?” he counters, his voice soft but sure. “At least we’ll know we tried until there wasn't anything worth fighting for. I'm not done with you, baby. Are you?”

Her hands finally move, trembling as they brush against his cheeks. They're not as soft as they use to be, his little facial hair scratching slightly at the pads of her fingers. The connection sends a jolt through them both as her touch lingers, trailing up to his hair. She pulls at his cap with both hands, placing it on her own head with a weak smile.

“It’s longer than you used to wear it,” she notices, her tears catching the street lights.

Lando’s heart clenches, managing to shoot a small smile in return, “I thought maybe I’d try growing it out. Do you like it?”

“I love it,” she admits as she tries to messily style his hair with her fingers. “It suits you.”

For a little while, they’re trapped in their own bubble. Her touch feels like home, and all Lando can think of is that he can't lose it again.

“I’m not asking you to decide now,” he finally says, his thumbs tracing soft circles on her waist. “I just need to know I’m not the only one still holding on.”

TWENTY MINUTES LATER, they're stumbling into her apartment. She knows it's reckless, and she's basically throwing away five months of progress, but it wasn't going to last, anyway.

Addictions are very hard to keep under control, especially when they have curly, dark hair and give you bed eyes.

“This way,” she says, her lips swollen from kissing all the way to her door.

Lando doesn’t have time to adjust, his head already spinning with hundreds of scenarios that fly tirelessly through his mind. However, the only thing that captivates him at the moment is her, and the way her fingers curl into the waistband of his jeans. She tugs him closer, her lips crashing onto his once again, their breaths blending in a frantic exchange of need and uncertainty.

He watches her fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, her movements clumsy but determined. His heart reaches his throat, swallowing hard, as his hands move from her waist to his belt, blindly unbuckling it before tossing it carelessly aside. The sound of leather hitting the floor barely registers over the erratic, overlapping rhythm of them kissing.

Then, he sees it. The spark in her eyes she used to have when she looked at him — it catches him off guard, giving him hope. He follows her as she moves slowly, her back toward the bed, her movements precise, like a cat's. She lies down, propping herself up on her elbows, while he takes cautious steps closer, his shirt hanging open to reveal his chest and toned abs.

But just as he leans forward, her high heel presses lightly against his chest, stopping him.

Lando freezes, his hands bracing on either side of her foot, tracing his palm up and down her leg, as his eyes dart up to meet hers.

“You can look,” she says, catching a glimpse of confusion in his eyes. “But for now, no touching.”

He frowns, clenching his jaw at her request. It would make sense for her to bring him to her place only to torture him, but she can't be that heartless. Right? The sight of her, stretched out on the bed with her foot holding him at bay, is almost too much to handle already.

“You're not fair,” he mutters under his breath, a ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“I don't give a flying fuck about being fair,” she repeats his words from earlier, her foot staying firm against his chest.

The power is in her hands, and she's planning on using them properly tonight.

“No touching,” she repeats, determined.

Lando's hands fall at his sides.

Slowly, she slides her foot down, letting it drag across his chest, making a quick stop on his lower abdomen before settling on the bed. Her gaze locks onto his, a daring glint in her eyes as she spreads her legs, revealing the black lace panties. The dress she's wearing lifts up her thighs of its own accord, leaving Lando chocking on air for a brief moment. His lips part as she trails her fingers down her own body, teasing herself the way she’s done countless nights before.

Nights when he wasn’t there.

Nights when she was alone, chasing a high only his touch could give her.

“Wanna see how I got through five months without you?” she asks, her hands traveling way down, hooking her fingers to pull at the soft material.

His breath hitches, the sight of her undressing before him so painfully slowly making his chest ache with longing and guilt.

“I thought of you,” she continues, letting a small whimper out when the soft lace peels off with a little resistance from her already soaked pussy. “Your hands, your mouth… the way you sound when you're turned on,” she discards the panties at the foot of the bed, her breath catching in her throat as she glances at him through her lashes. “Such a delicious combination between your sleepy voice and that low octave you hit when you're drunk.”

Lando’s mouth goes dry, his hands twitching at his sides, itching to lean over and collect the material off the floor to stuff it into his pocket as a souvenir. He’s never felt so powerless and yet so utterly consumed by someone before.

“Will you let me?” she asks, her lips curving into a smile that’s equally wicked and vulnerable, “Show you?”

Her name leaves Lando’s lips in a protest while he takes an instinctive step forward, but she stops him with her foot once again. It’s a punishment, and he knows it. She’s showing him exactly what he missed, and exactly how she wanted him for so long.

Lando's breath is shallow, his chest rising and falling as he watches her. Helpless. His every nerve is tuned to her, eyes following how her fingers slide so easily between her folds, spreading the wetness as she teases her hole. Of course she’s taking her time with it, only to make sure he registers every tiny detail, just in case he forgot.

Her head tilts to the side with a quiet gasp when she pushes slowly inside. The sound of her wet entrance is enough to make his knees weak, still, his body turns to stone.

On the other hand, his heart is a mess of pride and frustration — pride that she still feels comfortable to be this vulnerable and open in front of him, frustration that he has to see her like this, untouchable. That's why he's not even blinking, too afraid he'll miss a thing.

She starts to gently rock her hips against the bed, fucking her fingers in and out, her body trembling as her whimpers fill the room. It's too much for Lando, but luckily, she didn't say anything about moving. His legs finally give out, and he falls to his knees, the sound of his breath ragged and uneven as he gets closer to her.

Yes, she's in charge — for now, at least — but he can't stop his words slipping out. Quiet, yet demanding.

“Slower,” he says, fixing his eyes on the way her fingers slide over her clit. “Don't rush it, please. I want to see all of you.”

Her gaze meets his, and for a moment, neither of them says anything else. She sees the vulnerability etched into his features, the way his body betrays him, shaking with restraint, completely at her mercy.

He looks like a man unmoored, defeated. So beautiful.

“Lando…” she breaths heavily, her back arching against her own hand, that flattered slightly at his words, a blush creeping up her neck and cheeks.

She hates how much he still affects her, obeying him without questioning his ways. Like no time has passed whatsoever.

When they make eye contact again, it's like they silently agree to go with it; whatever tonight will bring.

“That's is,” says Lando with satisfaction as she resumes her movements. “You gorgeous little thing. So beautiful when you listen, yeah?”

She nods, feeling him leaning forward just slightly, close enough that she can feel his warmth on her skin, without him touching her in any way. The air feels electric, her breath stuttering as she keeps fucking up her fingers under Lando's careful guidance. He watches every motion, his jaw tightening, ignoring the ache in his boxers the moment she finds her sweet spot, crying at how good it feels. She tries to muffle the moan, but Lando catches the hesitation, his eyes narrowing in her direction.

“No, let me hear you. Please, let me hear you,” he implores, exhaling sharply. “God, you're perfect. I could watch you forever.”

Lando can't help but notice how receptive she becomes at his words, her body tightening at the way he's praising her. As a result, she presses her fingers harder onto her clit, feeling the pressure building inside.

“Mhm, Lan…”

“I'm with you, baby. Keep going,” he encourages her, his gaze fixating on the slickness dripping between her legs. “Fucking hell. You're already so close, aren't you?”

It's like every word gets caught in her throat, and the only way she can reply to him is with a pathetic, desperate whimper.

In hindsight, she's never came from her fingers so quickly before, but the wave that’s hitting her from every direction right now is too intense to process right away.

It happens too fast, and the next thing she's aware of is Lando's voice, bringing her back.

“Please,” she hears him beg, managing to give him a slight nod of her head in return.

In that moment, the lights go out. Even so, Lando wants to be patient, as his index finger lightly brushes against her warmth. She exhales, giving up control, her gaze locked on him as if he is the only one that ever knew her. Meticulous, Lando traces his long, rough finger through her wetness, causing a shock to run through her whole body as it moves up and down her clit.

She thought she already crossed her limit, but then he leans down to press his mouth on her — deliberately, unapologetically, thirsty.

Lando lets out a deep, guttural groan that reverberates against her, causing her hips to twitch slightly. His tongue is wet and warm on her pulsating clit, leaving her breathless while he tastes her like it's the last time.

“My sweet, sweet baby,” he whispers, his voice intimate and personal, the words enveloping her in layers and layers of honey.

Feeling his warm breath on her center causes a surge of tension within her, making her walls tighten as his tongue explores within. He can't help but smile just as she leans into him, her body responding naturally, and he grips her thighs, closing the remaining gap between them. At that, she instantly buries her fingers in his curls, her hips mimicking his head movements.

“Oh, fuck,” she exhales abruptly.

The rest is pure bliss — his tongue licking in deep strokes, his muffled moans between her thighs, and the way he can’t seem to let go of her, gripping her tightly because he’s been deprived of her taste for so long.

Just for a brief second, Lando raises his head and, as his gaze remains fixed on her eyes, his mouth sucks gently at her clit. She's never seen him so desperate before, the sight of him owning her like that covering her entire body in chills.

Gradually, his kisses become way too powerful, which forces her to quickly grab his messy curls and pull him closer, unable to control herself anymore.

Without any warning, she screams his name as her climax hits her like a tidal wave for the second time in a row.

His growling makes her thighs quiver in his grasp, the vibrations intensifying her pleasure as her body convulses with each new sensation, while Lando’s tongue continues licking her during every heartbeat and shiver.

Next time she looks at him, his lips shine, his cheeks are red, and his gaze so intense that it causes her heart to skip a beat, creating a connection that seems more profound than any physical sensation she's just experienced.

He didn’t try to give her the best she’s ever had, but attempt to remind her how well he knows her body — to show her she still belongs to him.

“You’re so pretty,” says Lando, keeping his eyes on her, while he presses one finger back inside her cunt to test how thight she is after her second orgasm.

“Lando,” she spits his name at the unexpected touch, still too sensitive, “What… are you doing?” she gasps softly, a mixture between a sigh and a moan, when Lando's finger pulls out and glides across her wet, delicate clit once again.

“What do you think I’m doing?” Lando murmurs against her thigh, his voice low and reverent.

He grins in her direction, while his thumb circles her clit with precise intention, like a wheel gripping the perfect racing line. Sure of himself, Lando continues his movements, realizing how overstimulated she is, as he gets up to hover above her. Her hips buck instinctively into his hand, a jolt of reaction she can’t control.

Seeing Lando on top makes her react on instinct, wrapping one arm around his neck, while the other hand travels down his chest. The heat pooling in her stomach rises fast, an apex she didn’t expect to reach so soon. It’s intoxicating, her body spiraling as her mind blanks out the world beyond him.

“Lan—” she gasps, her back arching as if trying to escape, though every fiber of her betrays that she wants more.

“Come on, baby,” he says, increasing the pace. “You can give me one more. You're doing so well, I know you can,” his voice is a blend of dominance and desire, while his fingers press into her, knowing exactly where to go and how to bend, “Like that, see? So easy for me to read you. I could fuck my fingers into your pretty hole all night long and you'd still come for me every single time, wouldn't you, baby?”

Shaking, she clings to his neck, crying out his name in spasms. He loops his free arm around her, gently kissing her cheek — a gesture so tender and innocent that makes her heart grow ten times in size.

She grips his shoulder with one hand, her eyes closing in pleasure. “I can’t—” she chokes, the words tumbling out between ragged breaths.

In an attempt to get her power back, she tries to push at his wrist, but his arm steadies her, determined.

“Of course you can, love,” says Lando, his voice a gentle command, the firmness in his tone like a driver refusing to lift his foot off the pedal, curious to see how far he can take it.

Her hand clenches around his arm as his thumb presses against her clit with ruthless precision. She reacts on instinct, muscles coiling tight as she bucks against his hand, not sure what controls her body anymore, since her brain got disconnected long ago. The slik rhythm of Lando's fingers becomes too much, and she knows she's close when he starts curling them inside at the perfect angle.

“La— Fuck, baby, that feels so good,” her voice is a high-pitched cry now, laced with desperation. “I’m going—”

“I know, baby. So pretty. Look at you, making such a mess for me,” he urges, leaning in to kiss her neck.

Her body tightens as pleasure explodes within her, blinding and all-consumming — a full-throttle sensation, unrelenting in its intensity. She sobs his name as liquid warmth spills from her pussy, coating Lando’s fingers. He doesn’t stop there, though, his hand continuing its pace, coaxing every last wave of her climax as his arm holds her securely against him.

“God, I've missed you.”

When her breathing slows down, he falls down on top of her, burying his head in the crook of her neck. Her legs shake slightly, and her fingers curl weakly into his bare chest as he cradles her close.

Lando presses a tender kiss against her temple, his voice filling the quiet. “It wasn’t acciedntal,” he confesses.

She blinks rapidly, tilting her head to look at him, confused, “What?”

“Earlier,” Lando clarifies, “You said I was accidentally waltzing back into your life — it wasn’t accidental,” he repeats.

“What do you mean?”

Lando places a few more kisses on the heated skin of her neck, sucking in a couple of bruises, the gesture meant to buy himself more time for the storm raging in his head to stop.

“Lando,” she pulls him out of it.

“Been trying to figure out how to do this for a while. I just… couldn’t stay away from you anymore,” he admits, looking up at her, his eyes pleading. “I had Max playing detective while I was away.”

She pushes him off her to sit up on the bed, pulling at the edges of her dress. “Seriously, what?” her tone is not defensive — at least not yet — but there’s a sharpness to it that cuts into him.

“No, I didn’t mean it like that,” he rushes to explain, “Look, I didn’t stalk you or anything. Nor Max,” he continues, getting up to stand next to her. “I didn’t even know where you lived until you brought me here. I swear.”

She wraps her arms around her own body, needing something to ground herself, “What did you do, Lando?” the girl asks, her voice quieter now.

He swallows, “I just asked him to check in on you. To see if you were okay.”

“And how did he do that?”

“He saw you tagged in a pic on this girl's account, and then did some research on the people you were with, paid some dudes to find out if their records were clean—” he starts chuckling when her fist hits his shoulder, playfully, but still with intent.

“Don’t be a dick,” she warns, her smile giving away the fact that she’s still amused by his immature sense of humor.

“I just… didn’t want to simply appear out of nowhere if you were happy. If you’d moved on,” Lando continues, his tone more serious now. “But when he told me you seemed like you hadn’t, I couldn’t keep pretending like I was fine. I'm really not.”

His honesty was always a breath of fresh air, but now it's suffocating. Hearing him admitting he's not okay, implying that she's the reason why, is simply heartbreaking.

Her arms drop slowly to her sides, her fingers gripping the edge of the bed, “Why now, Lando? And why not text or call?”

He scoffs, “Can you look me in the eye and tell me honestly that you would have picked up if I called? Especially given how we left things?”

She cups Lando’s chin in the palm of her hand, forcing him to look at her, “I'll always pick up if it's you.”

The admission makes his chest tighten.

Lando shakes his head, “I promise I’ve tried,” he says, “God, I’ve fucking tried. I threw myself into everything, and nothing worked. Racing, training, sim sessions, going out with the guys — no matter what I did, I was constantly thinking of you. Every night out felt wrong because I wasn’t coming home to you. And I know home is such a vague word for me, because I’m mostly away, but you made every single place feel like home, and that's why it didn't matter where I was at the time. I just needed… need you in ways I can't nor want to explain.”

His confession makes her head spin. The breakup had been difficult for her, but she hadn’t considered how Lando had handled the past five months. All along, she had assumed he wouldn’t miss her — that his life, always on the road and consumed by his own pursuits, was too busy to notice the absence of one small, insignificant detail: her.

She's now realizing how wrong she had been to think that way.

“So…?” she finally asks. “Do you think a few orgasms later can mend what was broken five months ago?”

“What? No, of course not,” he says firmly, leaning forward, his elbows digging into his thighs. “I swear, all I wanted to do tonight was talking to you. I didn’t plan on getting to this point, but I can’t say I’m mad about it,” says Lando, taking her hand in his, brushing his thumb over her knuckles. “You still want me,” she shoots Lando a rapid look, studying his face, “Just like I want you. I see it, I feel it. Baby, I know it.”

Her heart pounds in her chest, the sincerity in his voice cutting through her defenses like a hot knife through butter. She wants to be angry, to accuse him of being selfish, but the truth is, she isn’t. Maybe it’s foolish to believe him, but one thing Lando never did was lie to her. He did worse, yes, but he never lied.

“Lando...” she starts, but her voice trails off, wishing her head would stop spinning so she could think.

“I know I hurt you,” he continues, his voice softer now, “You hurt me. We hurt each other. But we're too good together not to find a way to make it work.”

She doesn’t respond immediately, her mind racing with memories of their past — the good, especially the bad, and everything else in between. Her fingers toy with the fabric of her dress, her eyes flickering between his face and the floor. The room is heavy with silence and, just for a moment, she lets herself believe that maybe, just maybe, they could find each other again.

Otherwise, if it's meant to fall apart, then let it happen with them gasping for air, tangled together, connected in every way imaginable.

THE MORNING SUN filters shyly through the curtains, soft and golden, spilling across the bed where Lando stirs awake. He’s all alone, the sheets around him rumpled from where she had slept. He blinks up at the ceiling, a little disoriented. Then, he hears the faint sound of running water and realizes she’s in the shower. It makes him feel like everything went back to normal, but he can't be sure of what's going to happen next. He can only speculate and hope, but nothing more than that.

The quiet is interrupted by the persistent buzz of his phone on the nightstand. He reaches for it, still groggy from sleep, scrolling through a handful of texts from last night — banter in the group chat, some Instagram notifications, a few missed calls; nothing too important to catch his eye. He places the phone back on the smooth surface carelessly, and his hand knocks over something solid in the process.

Frowning, he sits up to put it back in its place, and that’s when he sees it — a framed picture of them, taken during a rare quiet weekend in Monaco over a year ago, right at the beginning of their relationship. She looked so happy back then, caught mid-laugh as Lando was gazing at her with an expression so tender that it makes his chest ache now. The weight of the memory hits him harder than he expects, pulling him fully awake.

The sound of the bathroom door opening makes him turn, and he puts the frame back quickly. However, it's enough for her to catch his sudden movement, her eyes flicking to the photo and back to him.

Her cheeks flush a deep pink. “I meant to put that away,” she rushes to say, pulling the towel tighter around her body like it might shield her from the embarrassment.

“Carlos took this one,” his voice is soft, as his eyes shift back to the frame. He picks it up again, turning it in his hands. “You asked me why didn't I call, but… why didn't you call?”

She laughs dryly, crossing the space to take the frame from his hand and placing it face down on the nightstand. She sits down next to him, shrugging.

“And tell you what, Lando? That I couldn’t stop thinking about you even though you broke my heart?” she asks, shaking her head, the embarrassment turning into something closer to frustration. “It’s just a stupid picture, anyway. We barely knew each other when it was taken.”

“It’s not stupid,” he contradicts her vehemently. His hand reaches out tentatively, brushing against her soft forearm. “It's nice to know I wasn’t completely crazy for hoping you felt the same.”

Her lips part like she wants to say something, but no words come out. The towel slips slightly, and she clutches it tighter, her defenses crumbling under the weight of his hungry eyes.

“Lando…”

“Leave it there, yeah?” he says, pointing at the picture. “Facing your side of the bed, preferably.”

Seeing her suddenly deep in thought, Lando grabs her wrist and gently pulls her onto his lap, his thumb lightly brushing against her silky skin.

She looks at him, her emotions warring on her face. “If it makes me look less pathetic, it was face down most of the time.”

Lando laughs, his hands finding her waist, then her hips, steadying her on his lap, “I love you,” he says it casually, but it still freezing the blood in her veins.

Her fingers fly towards his mouth to cover his lips, “Don't,” she warns.

“You know I do. I was serious last night. You don't have to decide anything right now, but I'm not going anywhere. It sucks we needed to hurt for a while, we're both at fault, but I never stopped loving you,” he repeats.

“You're so unfair.”

“Don't care, say it back,” he teases, digging his fingers into her skin to tickle her sides.

She starts giggling, “Don't you dare.”

His grin widens, “Or what?” he asks playfully as her hands fly to his, trying to fend him off.

“Lando, I'm serious. Stop it,” her laughter blends with his while he leans in closer, his lips brushing her ear.

“I need to hear it, baby. Please. Just say it back.”

“It back,” she chuckles, feeling his fingers tickling her so mercilessly that tears form in her eyes. Their laughter bubbles over, loud and uninhibited, until she collapses against him. “Okay, fine. Fine,” her breathy voice stops him in place, catching his attention. “I love you, Lando.”

A simple confession; he asked for it. But none of them expected it to hang that heavily between them. It's not a lie — not in the slightest — and Lando knows it.

“Enough to give us a second chance?” he asks.

Her breath catches at the sudden shift in his tone, and before she can reply, his thumb traces her cheek gently.

“I'm so scared,” she admits, leaning into his touch.

Lando sighs, understanding too well where she's coming from, “I know, baby. But I'm even more afraid of losing us again. Losing this…”

His hand slides down her chest, tracing the curve of her breasts. With a gentle movement, he tugs at the corner of her towel, letting it drip smoothly down her body. Patiently, he runs his hands down her waist, moving back up to her chest as they leave goosebumps in their wake. Hungry, his hands rest on her breasts, squeezing them lightly until he feels her nipples in his palms, and she drops her head on his shoulder, whimpering softly.

Memories of last night make her body shudder, feeling the heat between her legs intensifying. Following his lead, her fingers start tugging at the waistband of his boxers, until they slip low on his hips.

Lando moves one hand around her neck, pulling her in for a kiss. He groans against her mouth, his breath hot and ragged, before breaking their connection long enough to kick the boxers aside.

Skin on skin, their bodies align like two puzzle pieces.

She hovers over him, his hands on either side of her, “I wanna take care of you,” he speaks softly, closing his eyes when her forehead rests against his. “Please, let me take care of you.”

There’s a vulnerability in his tone that twists something deep inside her. She's just learned how to be independent again. She can't throw all of it away. She can't let herself slip.

She can't.

“Okay,” she whispers, her voice steady despite the storm raging within her.

Her answer is all that Lando needs to hear. His lips crash back onto hers as he swaps their positions, lowering her onto the bed, his body pressing against hers, warm and solid. And so very real. Every touch, every kiss, every whispered word feels like a promise, a vow that he won’t let her slip through his fingers again.

And then, Lando takes control — not the type of dominance he's used to when he steers his car. It's more like devotion; his hands map her body all over again, like a driver learning every twist and turn of a new circuit, his lips following the trail his fingers blaze.

She arches into his touch, responding to him in ways she thought she’d forgotten.

But the body remembers.

And the remembering is, oh, so good.

Last night was just the warm-up, she reckons — an act meant to remind both of them how well they fit together. Lando was gentle, kind, and patient. But now, she sees the shift in him.

His eyes are darker, filled with lust, his touch greedier. She can't help but smile when she realizes that the Lando she knows all too well — the one who’s needy, insatiable, and unrelenting in his desire for her — is still there, and so ready to show off.

Her skin tingles in anticipation as she watches him, knowing exactly what he wants. And for once, she wants it just as much. Maybe even more, considering how her body is acting independently from her brain.

She wants him to give her everything, to burn through her until she’s left gasping and wet and ruined, and she’s ready to meet his hunger with her own.

But before that, “We're not done talking,” she tells him, breathing heavily against his mouth.

“Yeah, we'll talk. Stay with me and we'll talk all you want, baby.”

She wants to protest, but her air gets knocked out of her lungs and her fingernails sink into his shoulders when Lando nudges the head of his cock up and down her slit to collect the wetness. With a gentle kiss on her jaw, she closes her eyes, tracing her fingers down his arms as he pushes inside.

They both exhale, relieved that they're back where they belong.

Talking can wait.

Lando's hands grip her waist just as he pulls out, only to push back in, all the way to the hilt in one slow, but hard thrust. The feeling is almost too much for her, which is ridiculous since he just started moving. But she feels so full, and the sounds he lets out only make her open up for him even more.

“Wait, wait,” she can barely recognize her own voice, stopping Lando when their hips touch together.

She can't explain it, but she needs it.

“What's wrong?”

She looks down between their bodies, confusing Lando even more. “I…,” she begins, but she's not sure how she's supposed to voice her need.

“It's okay, you can tell me,” he assures her, bringing his hand to cup her face in his palm, tracing his thumb over her cheek.

“I—need a second to feel you,” she explains, pushing his hand away only to trace her palms over her face.

Lando chuckles, “Baby, don't hide from me. You're driving me fucking mad when you're blushing.”

“I'm not blushing,” she contradicts him, raising her hips against his, her walls hugging him tighter with every move.

“No?” whispers Lando roughly as if he lost his voice. “God, you're perfect. So good, so fucking sweet and perfect around me, baby.”

Her legs tighten around his waist, keeping him inside, while one hand moves to his lower back to push him against her even more. There is no physical space left between them, but she still wants more. It only makes Lando's cock throb inside her pussy, giving her a few more seconds to adjust to his length before he pulls all the way out and slides back, searching for the perfect pace.

“Fuck, Lando,” she whines, burying her fingers into his hair, tugging at the roots.

“Yes, I know,” agrees Lando, his eyes flicking over her face. His insides tighten at the sight of her parting her lips in pleasure, her breathing hot and irregular. “You're so beautiful from this angle.”

“Shut up,” she cuts him off, which makes Lando chuckle again.

“Why would I?” he asks, leaning closer to her ear, while thrusting a couple more times before pausing. “You look like a fucking goddess taking my cock so well.”

She squeezes her eyes shut at the sound of his voice, low and raspy, rocking her hips to find that sweet friction against her walls again.

“Keep,” she whines, “Keep going, then. Let me have it.”

Lando presses his lips on hers at the same time he resumes his movements, his hands roaming all over her body.

“You can have my cock, baby,” he groans into her hair. “All yours.”

She nods, wrapping her fingers around his biceps, “Yeah?”

“Promise you,” says Lando.

After that, he picks up pace, both falling into an agonizing rhythm. All this time, she had thought that familiarity might dull the edge of being with Lando, that knowing his moves would make it predictable and boring, maybe even ordinary.

Somehow, it’s the exact opposite.

It’s because she knows him, and he knows her so well, that every touch feels ecstatic, every kiss charged with meaning. He doesn’t need to guess what she likes; he already knows how to unravel her, how to leave her trembling and breathless. And she knows exactly what will make his breath hitch, how to draw out that low, desperate groan that ignites her own fire.

In a way, every time feels like the first, but it's always much better, because they know how to make each other fall apart like no one else can.

“Please,” she gasps, breathing wetly in his shoulder. “Harder.”

One thing about Lando, he's always been good at listening. Without thinking twice, he tightens his grip on her hips, fucking his cock inside her harder and faster than before. In an instant, her ears are blessed with the way his moans sound.

“God, I've missed fucking my pretty girl like this,” says Lando, his hands moving on her thighs to spread her more so he can slide in faster. “It's never like this, baby, fuck.”

Being with Lando is chaos, the kind of beautiful, consuming chaos that leaves everything around them in shambles. They are loud and messy, and everything is sweaty and wet and sticky. He kisses her like he’s starving, touches her like he’s desperate to memorize every inch of her skin, and she matches his fervor, meeting him with the same wild energy that pulls them under. Together.

“Lando,” she spits his name out of her mouth in short spasms. “Lando, Lan… Lando.”

It's almost like a cry for help, but she doesn't need saving. Not when he's fucking her so good, slamming against her over and over again, until the outside world fades away and all she remembers is his name.

“Lando,” she whimpers again.

“Keep me in, love. Like that,” she can barely hear him over the sound of skin slapping on skin. “Fuck. You're taking me so well, I won't stop fucking you, baby. I won't—”

She sucks in a breath of air, her body buzzing with pleasure. Wrapping her arms around his torso, she can feel how hot and sweaty his chest is. She moves with him for a couple more thrusts before she lets go, the sound of Lando fucking in and out of her while she comes so obscene that it makes her eyes roll.

“I'll never get tired of seeing you coming like that,” says Lando, pinning her to the bed, his cock feeling so fucking good inside of her that it makes him see stars. “So fucking hot, baby.”

Her nails scratch the skin of his back as her pussy clenches around his length, forcing another hiss out of Lando's mouth.

“Don't stop,” she manages to say, even though she feels her throat raw.

“Ah, look at you, now. Being so good for me,” says Lando with a smirk, tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Letting me have my way with you when you're sore and spent. And so wet, baby, you're dripping all around my cock. Fucking hell.”

Lando's jaw clenches, a visible battle playing out in his face as his breath hitches. She feels him moving deeper, hitting the sweet spot inside her, sending ripples of pleasure through her body with every thrust.

“Yes—fuck. Don't stop,” she repeats.

His eyes widen as he tries to hold on for as long as he can, but it's hard when he flashes his eyes in her direction and catches her already looking. It doesn't take long for him to realize there's a replica to her first orgasm. He nods, without saying anything else, bringing his hand up to her neck. She places hers on top of his, not to push it away, but to let it rest there as a sign that it's fine to claim her if that's what Lando needs.

And that's enough for him to lose it.

“Baby,” he breaths out, fucking her slopply, any sense of order dissolving under the weight of their eye contact.

She arches into him, her fingers trembling as they rise to cup his face.

“Keep your eyes on me,” she demands, her voice a desperate need.

She pictured that face thousands of times in the past months, but nothing compares to this. Lando groans at the command, his hooded gaze staying on hers. The intensity of his expression nearly undoes her again — his pupils blown wide, lips parted as he lets out s string of cuss words.

“That's it, pretty boy,” she whispers, her thumb brushing over his cheek as he moves inside her, his pace faltering for just a moment before he snaps back into thay sloppy rhythm, chasing his release. “Want to see you when you let go.”

She barely finishes her sentence when his orgasm crashes over him like a tsunami; no one would be able to even tell where she begins and where he ends.

Lando looks so beautiful and wrecked, and she drinks in every second of his surrender.

Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful.

When his features soften, she sees how vulnerable he is, and it leaves her breathless.

Satisfied and content, her fingers still trace his face, wanting to remember the exact way he looks in this moment, when he is completely hers.

Unable to support his weight, Lando collapses on top of her, feeling his body as light as a feather, which is so far from the truth. But she doesn't mind; she loves the feeling, actually. She loves the heaviness, and the way he keeps his cock tucked deep inside her, wet and softening slowly, not allowing his cum to leak out of her.

Descending back down from their high, the only sounds in the room are their slowing breaths and the soft rustle of the sheets. It's hard not to notice the weight of reality when it begins to creep in around the edges.

She lies beneath him, her fingers lazily tracing patterns on his back, but her mind is miles away.

“When are you leaving?” she finally asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

Lando tenses for a moment, then shifts to lie beside her, propping his head on his hand to look at her. The vulnerability in her eyes twists something deep inside him.

She swallows hard, suddenly flooded by all the reasons they had fought, all the late nights filled with misunderstandings and misaligned priorities. She remembers all the reasons why they broke up, and thinking how bad of an idea this has been. Because, how can she let go of him again, without feeling like she'll be losing both her head and heart in the process.

“On Tuesday,” says Lando softly. “But not how you think.”

Her brow furrows in confusion as she turns to face him. “What do you mean?”

Lando leans over, his hand caressing her cheek as he gathers his thoughts.

“I’ve been thinking about us for months. Since you left, actually,” he begins, his voice low and deliberate. “I had a lot of time, and I managed to figure out why it didn’t work before, why I couldn’t give you what you deserved. So… I’ve talked to the team.”

She almost stops breathing, her eyes widening in his direction while she waits for him to continue. Months ago, she would've die to have this conversation, and now that it happens, she doesn't know how to behave.

“I'm working on a schedule. To have more time for us,” Lando explains.

Her heart skips a beat. “You’d do that?”

“For us,” he repeats, his voice firm. “I can’t keep pretending I’m okay without you. I don't want to be okay without you, it's stupid. And I don’t want to keep coming back here, hoping for a second chance, only to mess it up again. I want to get it right this time.”

She stares at him, not knowing what to do with that information. This is not the Lando she knows. The recklessness and impulsivity got replaced by caution and planning the steps ahead. It's new, and exciting, and it makes her tear up.

“And what if it still doesn’t work?” she asks, her voice small.

He leans closer, his forehead touching hers. “It will.”

His tone is so definitive that she can't say anything else, letting the silence stretch between them as she searches Lando's face for any sign of hesitation.

There’s none.

“How... did you actually know where to find me last night?”

Lando smirks, studying her face with half-closed eyes, bringing his hand to her jaw. “That friend of yours posted on her story. Honestly, I didn’t know you were going to be there. But I hoped.”

She shakes her head, scoffing, “Stalker behavior.”

Lando shrugs nonchallantly, “I just happened to be nearby,” he chuckles.

“Lucky me,” she says, tracing the contour of his nose with her finger, stopping on his jaw.

“Lucky us,” he corrects, pulling her in for another kiss.

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bodyswap005 · 2 months ago

Text

"Borrowed Bodies, Reunited Lives".

Dylan’s Perspective:

I always thought a cruise vacation would be perfect: the sun, the sea, and the chance to disconnect from everything. But when your only travel companions are your parents, who can barely spend a minute together without arguing, the idea loses its charm. So, when my parents announced we’d be spending the holidays sailing to Miami, I couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and frustration.

They are Ethan and Susan, the perfect representation of a marriage that has lost its way. They argue about everything, from which channel to watch on TV to how to park the car. They never agree, and being in the middle of their endless arguments is a place I’d rather not be. That’s why the idea of spending weeks locked on a ship with them seemed more like a punishment than a break.

If only I could bring Alex and Joshua, my best friends from the gym, things would be different. They’re like my older brothers, always with advice, jokes, and that camaraderie that only forms between those who share long training sessions and complaints about the same exercise machines. Alex is more reserved, but he has a sarcastic sense of humor that always makes me smile, while Joshua is the extrovert of the group, capable of lighting up any room with his energy.

Of course, bringing them along was an impossible dream. My parents would never allow it, and they certainly couldn’t afford it. But sometimes, even the most unlikely things have a strange way of coming true.

One afternoon, as I was walking back from the gym, I saw an elderly woman trying to lift a heavy bag off the sidewalk. I stopped to help her; I didn’t think much of it, it just seemed like the right thing to do. When the woman thanked me, she looked at me with eyes that seemed to pierce through me and said something strange:

—Make a wish, young man. A real one.

I didn’t think much of it. I thought it was some kind of game or joke, but in the end, I said the first thing that came to mind:

—I wish my friends could come with me on the cruise.

The old woman smiled, murmured something I didn’t understand, and walked away. I didn’t dwell on it, although that night I couldn’t help but think about her words.

The day of departure arrived, and as expected, nothing extraordinary happened. Alex and Joshua weren’t there. Everything was the same: my parents arguing, me wishing I wasn’t there. Until, suddenly, things started to get strange.

As the ship set sail, I noticed my parents weren’t just arguing, their voices sounded completely out of place. My dad let out a rude “What the hell am I doing here?”, while my mom muttered a “No way, dude!”. They both looked at me with a mix of confusion and bewilderment.

Then my phone rang. It was Alex. Or at least, that’s what the screen said. I answered, and what I heard on the other end froze me. It was my dad. Or rather, his voice, saying something completely absurd:

—Dylan, it’s me! I’m your dad.

And just like that, my cruise adventure, which already promised to be uncomfortable, took a turn I never could have imagined, even in my worst nightmares.

Ethan and Susan Perspective:

Ethan woke up startled in a place he didn’t recognize. The room was small, with dull-colored walls, barely lit by a beam of sunlight filtering through the curtains. He brought a hand to his face and felt something strange: his beard was gone.

When he looked down, the shock was even greater. This wasn’t his body. His torso was strong, defined, and his hands, large and youthful, weren’t the ones he remembered.

—What the hell is going on?!—he shouted, jumping up.

On the other side of the room, someone else moved. Susan, or at least what should have been Susan, slowly sat up from a single bed. But instead of her slender figure, it was the body of a muscular young man with messy hair and a bewildered expression.

—What happened to me?—Susan asked, touching her face with hands larger than she expected. Then she looked at the mirror in front of her, and a scream escaped her mouth—It can’t be!

Ethan staggered slightly as he approached, trying to control his movements. He looked at both their reflections and confirmed the impossible: he was in Joshua’s body, one of Dylan’s friends, and Susan was in Alex’s.

—This has to be a nightmare…—Ethan said, running a hand through his short hair.

—This isn’t real!—Susan screamed, touching her arms and chest, feeling the muscles now belonging to her. Her gaze was filled with horror—This can’t be real!

At that moment, Susan’s phone—or rather Alex’s, which was in the pocket of her pants—began to ring. They both looked at each other, uncertain. Ethan took the phone and answered.

—Hello?

On the other end of the line, Dylan answered immediately, his tone filled with panic:

—Dad… it’s me.

Ethan squinted.

—Dylan? What’s going on?

—Dad, mom…—Dylan stammered, trying to explain while listening to Alex (now in Ethan’s body) argue with someone in the background—I think… I think you switched bodies with Alex and Joshua.

Susan, who had been listening from across the room, quickly approached.

—What did you do, Dylan?—she asked with Alex’s deep voice, snatching the phone from Ethan—What did you do?!

—I… I didn’t know this was going to happen—Dylan defended himself, his voice full of guilt—I helped an old woman, and she told me she’d grant me a wish. I just asked for Alex and Joshua to come on the cruise with me.

Ethan huffed, snatching the phone back.

—An old woman?! What kind of joke is this?

—It’s not a joke, dad—Dylan replied—This is real, but… I don’t know how to fix it.

—Of course you don’t!—Susan growled from the back, crossing her arms—We’re stuck in the bodies of two guys we barely know!

—Please, just calm down. We need to think…—Dylan tried to say, but his voice sounded weak, even to himself.

—Calm down?—Susan screamed—We lost our cruise, our lives, everything!

Ethan sighed deeply, trying to remain calm, even though his hands were trembling.

—Listen, Dylan. For now, we’ll look for that old woman, if she even exists. You stay on the cruise and try to keep those two idiots under control.

Dylan swallowed hard.

—Got it.

Ethan hung up and placed the phone on the bed, his expression hardened.

—This can’t be permanent, right?—Susan asked quietly, though she knew no one had the answer.

Ethan didn’t respond right away. Instead, he looked at his new arms, so strong that it almost seemed like a joke.

—While we figure out how to reverse this… I think we should make the most of this vacation.

Susan glared at him.

—Make the most of it? Ethan, we’re in the bodies of strangers!

—I know, but we can’t just sit around feeling sorry for ourselves—he said, though a nervous smile crossed his face as he flexed his arms—I never had muscles like this…

Susan ran a hand over her face, frustrated.

—Maybe this is a sign—she murmured, more to herself than to him—A lesson for us.

Ethan raised an eyebrow.

—A lesson?

—To solve our problems… as a couple.

Ethan let out a snort but didn’t argue. Though they both knew that the only thing they could agree on was finding that old woman and returning to their lives as quickly as possible.

In the city, Ethan and Susan walked down a narrow alley, following the coordinates Dylan had provided over the phone. However, the place was empty, with no trace of the gypsy old woman who had set everything in motion.

—This can’t be, she doesn’t even exist!—Susan exclaimed, crossing her arms and shooting a reproachful glance at Ethan—This is your fault.

Ethan raised an eyebrow, clearly tired of his wife’s constant accusations.

—My fault? Please! Dylan was the one who made the wish, and we’re the ones stuck in this mess with his little friends.

Susan snorted, turning around to head back to the apartment they were now sharing.

Once they arrived, they both collapsed on the sofa. Susan sighed with frustration, while Ethan stood up to inspect the small living room.

—This is a disaster—Susan said, bringing her hands to her face—I just want my normal life back.

—I wouldn’t complain too much, you know?—Ethan responded with a smile, taking off his shirt in front of the apartment mirror. He admired his defined and sculpted muscles, something he hadn’t seen in years—Look at this! When was the last time I looked like this?

—For the love of God, Ethan! Put your shirt on. This is ridiculous—Susan scolded, though her gaze briefly drifted to her husband, now in Joshua’s body.

—Ridiculous?—Ethan chuckled as he flexed his arms in front of the mirror—This is like turning back time.

Fed up with his attitude, Susan jumped up and, in a burst of frustration, decided to check for herself how she looked now. She stood in front of the mirror and, with some curiosity, slid her hands down the muscular arms of Alex’s body.

—This… this is weird—Susan admitted quietly, staring at her reflection. Her new body was strong and bulky, something she never imagined experiencing—I’ve never felt like this in my life.

—Weird?—Ethan said, approaching her with a teasing smile—Don’t tell me you’re not enjoying it a little.

Susan rolled her eyes and stepped away from the mirror.

—I don’t care how I look now. What I want is to get my life back, not walk around showing off like you.

Ethan raised his hands in a peace gesture, although he still had a satisfied expression.

—Alright, alright. But, while we find the old woman, we could make the most of it… How about we go out for dinner?

—Dinner?—Susan repeated, raising an eyebrow.

—Yes, of course. But first, I think we should go to the gym. Isn’t that what Alex and Joshua would do? Besides, I’m sure these bodies need exercise to stay like this.

Reluctantly, Susan agreed. After all, there wasn’t much else to do.

At the gym, they faced the demanding routines of Alex and Joshua. Ethan, used to a much more sedentary lifestyle, tried to keep up with the weights, while Susan, clearly annoyed, followed the instructions she found on Alex’s phone.

—This is crazy—Susan murmured, wiping the sweat from her forehead as she watched Ethan drinking an energy shake—How do they do this every day?

—It’s a matter of habit—Ethan replied, smiling as he approached a treadmill.

Suddenly, a young man approached them. He was wearing tight athletic gear and had a relaxed attitude.

—Alex? Joshua?—Ethan asked with a smile, looking them up and down.

Sergio and Susan exchanged quick glances. They had no idea who he was, but decided to play along.

—Yes, it's us—Ethan replied, trying to sound nonchalant.

The young man nodded, as if he already knew them well.

—Great. Hey, I’m hosting a party tonight. You guys should come. It’ll be at my place, nothing formal, just friends.

—Party?—Susan repeated, surprised.

—Yeah, sure. It’ll be fun—the young man responded before giving them more details and walking away with a smile.

When the young man disappeared from sight, Ethan turned to Susan with enthusiasm.

—This is perfect.

—Perfect?—Susan said, crossing her arms—Are you suggesting we go?

—Of course. When was the last time we went to a party with young people? All we do is attend boring adult gatherings. This could be an opportunity to experience something new.

Susan looked at him incredulously, but deep down, something in his words sparked her curiosity.

—Suppose I agree… But no acting like an idiot, Ethan.

—Deal!—he replied with a triumphant smile.

Meanwhile, Susan couldn’t help but wonder if this experience might be more than just a bad nightmare… Maybe, even, an opportunity to rediscover something lost in their relationship.

The night came, and Ethan and Susan, more nervous than excited, tried to pick the best clothes they could find in Alex and Joshua’s wardrobes. Ethan chose some tight dark jeans and a white shirt that was a little too snug, while Susan, uncomfortable, put on a sleeveless shirt and shorts that left little to the imagination.

—This is ridiculous—Susan said, adjusting her clothes in front of the mirror—Do young people really dress like this?

—Relax—Ethan replied, straightening his shirt collar—We’re doing this to fit in, remember?

With little money in their pockets, they decided to stop for a coffee before heading to the party. Sitting at a small table by the window, the atmosphere was surprisingly calm. For the first time in years, they weren’t arguing.

—This is… strange—Susan commented, stirring her coffee.

—What’s strange?—Ethan asked, looking out the window.

—Us. Here, not fighting. As if… as if we were another couple.

Ethan smiled faintly.

—Maybe this change has something good after all.

Before Susan could respond, Ethan’s phone started ringing. It was Dylan.

—How’s everything going over there?—Ethan asked as Susan moved closer to listen.

—Fine... I think. Alex and Joshua are keeping it together, although it’s total chaos.—Dylan sighed on the other end of the line—Did you find the old woman?

—No—Susan responded with frustration—We followed the coordinates, but there was no sign of her.

—Well, at least you tried.

Ethan cleared his throat.

—By the way, we’re going to a party tonight.

—What?—Dylan exclaimed—What party? Whose?

—A guy from the gym invited us. We don’t know him, but he seemed insistent.—Ethan paused—Dylan, do you know who he is?

—No. Maybe he’s new in town or at the gym. Be careful.

They hung up shortly after, and Ethan and Susan finished their coffees before heading to the party.

The place was full of energy. Colorful lights blinked while music echoed in every corner. People were laughing, dancing, and chatting in small groups. Ethan and Susan looked at each other nervously before entering, trying to appear relaxed.

—Remember, act like we know them—Ethan whispered.

Inside, they recognized several people from the gym. Probably Alex and Joshua's friends. Susan tried to chat with a few people, but couldn’t fully connect, while Ethan helped himself to a drink at the table.

It was then that the guy who had invited them appeared. He was tall, with dark brown hair and a charismatic smile.

—Alex, Joshua, I’m glad you came—the young man said, shaking their hands—I’m Elijah, by the way.

—Nice to meet you, Elijah—Susan replied, trying to sound casual.

Elijah smiled in a peculiar way, as if he knew something more.

—So, how are you adjusting to... the new?—he asked with a tone that seemed both innocent and mocking.

Ethan felt something stir inside him. That phrase had been too specific.

—What do you mean?—Ethan asked, feigning disinterest.

Elijah shrugged, his smile barely visible.

—Nothing, just a way of saying. Enjoy the party.

As Elijah walked away, Ethan was left thinking. How could he know something? The idea that he might be connected to the old woman crossed his mind, but he quickly dismissed it. However, something didn’t add up.

He decided to find Susan to talk about it, but at that moment, someone else approached him.

—Hey, Alex, wanna grab a drink?—a young man asked, calling Susan, or rather, Alex’s body.

Susan, unsuspecting, accepted the invitation and walked away, leaving Ethan alone.

Ethan sat at one of the tables, reflecting on what had just happened. He looked around, observing the other guests, but couldn’t get Elijah’s words out of his mind.

—So, how are you adjusting to... the new?

Lost in his thoughts, he barely noticed when Susan came back. But what really snapped him out of his reverie was seeing her without a shirt, wearing a swimsuit she had found in the apartment.

—What the hell are you doing?—Sergio asked, alarmed.

Susan shrugged.

—Apparently, this is normal here. Besides, who cares? No one knows who we really are.

Ethan put a hand to his face, stifling a sigh. This night was going to be longer than he expected.

Susan, still animated by the festive atmosphere and clearly affected by the drinks, approached Ethan with a radiant smile.

—There’s a pool!—she said excitedly—I need a swim, and you do too.

—Susan, I think you've had enough to drink—Ethan responded cautiously, noticing the peculiar gleam in his wife’s eyes.

—Oh, come on! Don’t be boring.—Without waiting for a response, she grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the pool.

Ethan, surprised by the gesture, felt a strange warmth rise to his face. It was something so simple, but it had been so long since he felt that spontaneous connection with Susan. Was he blushing?

When they reached the pool, the atmosphere was completely different: laughter, softer music, and a group of young people enjoying the water under the colorful lights. Susan, without a second thought, jumped into the water, while Sergio stood at the edge, watching her.

—Ethan, come on!—she shouted, splashing him playfully.

He sighed, finally giving in, and stepped into the water. However, just a few minutes later, Susan moved away again, leaving him alone.

Ethan got out of the pool, drying himself off while looking for Susan in the crowd. That’s when he noticed Elijah, standing near a table, looking at him with a smile that seemed more calculated than friendly.

—Hey, Joshua…—Elijah said, walking toward him—Sorry for what I said earlier, about “adjusting to the new.”

—No problem—Ethan replied, though his tone made it clear he didn’t believe the apology—Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm looking for someone.

But Elijah placed a hand on his shoulder, stopping him.

—Wait, let me explain why I said that.

With a mix of suspicion and curiosity, Ethan decided to follow him. Elijah led him to a room downstairs and closed the door behind them.

—So, what’s this about?—Ethan asked, crossing his arms.

Elijah didn’t answer right away. Instead, he got closer, his eyes locked on Ethan’s.

—You know, Joshua... there’s something about you tonight. Something different.

Before Ethan could react, Elijah surprised him by leaning in to kiss him. Elijah’s lips met Ethan’s, and for a moment, Etnan was frozen. He had never kissed a man, nor had he ever imagined being in this situation. Why wasn’t he pulling away?

Finally, he reacted and pulled back abruptly, his heart pounding.

—What the hell are you doing?—he said, breathless, as he stepped back toward the door.

Elijah showed no remorse, just a mysterious smile.

—Maybe… Joshua isn’t as different as you think.

Without responding, Ethan hurriedly left the room, determined to find Susan.

When he finally found her, what he saw left him stunned. Susan, in Alex’s body, was standing close to a young woman, talking in a way that was far too familiar. The girl was laughing while Susan touched her arm, as if she were flirting.

Ethan furrowed his brow as he watched them both head upstairs.

—Susan! —he called, rushing after them.

Susan stopped, turning to face him with an annoyed look.

—What now?

—What are you doing? —Ethan demanded, trying to stay calm—. This is not the time to pretend to be someone else.

—Oh, please, Ethan —Susan replied, crossing her arms—. We're stuck in this absurd situation, what does it matter?

—It matters because we need to take care of each other and stick together. The best thing is that we leave now.

Susan glared at him, shaking her head.

—Do you always have to ruin everything? For once in my life, I just want to have fun.

Before Ethan could respond, Susan turned around and left with the girl.

Frustrated and angry, Ethan decided he’d had enough. He returned to the changing room, grabbed his clothes, and left the party without looking back.

Back at the apartment, Ethan locked himself in the small room he was now occupying, throwing himself onto the bed with a sigh of exhaustion. He waited, phone in hand, for a call or message from Susan, but nothing came.

As he tried to calm himself, his mind drifted back to the kiss from Elijah.

Why didn’t I pull away sooner? he thought, bringing a hand to his lips. He’d never kissed a man before, but there was something about that moment… something that unsettled him.

—I’m not gay… —he murmured, as if trying to convince himself.

Still, he couldn’t ignore what he had felt. Was Joshua gay? The idea troubled him, but it also stirred a strange curiosity.

With conflicting thoughts and emotions, he closed his eyes, and eventually, exhaustion overtook him.

The sound of the alarm clock vibrated softly, and Ethan opened his eyes, hoping everything had returned to normal. But it hadn’t. He was still in Joshua’s body. He glanced at the clock: 11:15 a.m.

He got up sluggishly, running his hands over his face and walking toward the bathroom to do his morning routine. As he washed his hands, an unmistakable smell hit his nose: food. Who was cooking?

When he reached the kitchen, he found Susan, still in Alex’s body, preparing what looked like a balanced breakfast: eggs, avocado, oatmeal, and a protein shake.

—Good morning, “J-Machine”! —Susan said with a smile, using a nickname that seemed to belong to Alex for Joshua.

Ethan frowned at the use of the nickname but decided to ignore it.

—Good morning… —he replied as he sat down at the small kitchen table—. Do you feel alright after last night?

Susan shrugged.

—Yeah, nothing a shower and coffee can’t fix.

—Well, I wanted to talk about what happened at the party…

—About what? —Susan asked, not looking at him as she served a plate.

—About what you did —Ethan insisted—. You drank too much, flirted with a girl, and then left with her. What the hell were you thinking?

Susan briefly looked at him, then returned her attention to her phone, typing messages and smiling as though she wasn’t in the middle of a serious conversation.

—Yeah, yeah… I’m sorry. Do you want avocado or double oatmeal? —Susan said indifferently.

—Susan, listen to me! —Ethan exclaimed, tapping the table gently to get her attention.

Finally, she looked up, slightly irritated.

—What? What did I do wrong now?

—Everything! —Ethan replied with frustration—. You’ve been acting like this is all a game. Not just last night, but always. Even when we were in our original bodies.

Susan frowned, setting her phone aside.

—What do you mean?

—I mean you and I have been distant for years —Ethan confessed, his tone more serious—. But last night, while I was trying to take care of you in that body, I felt something… something I haven’t felt in years. That connection we had when we were younger.

Susan looked at him in disbelief, then let out a sarcastic laugh.

—Connection? Or are you confusing things? Are you gay now?

—What? —Ethan asked, surprised by the question.

—Yeah, because all of this sounds weird. You’re telling me you felt “something” for me while I’m in Alex’s body. What’s going on, Ethan? Are you falling in love with your friend son?

Ethan opened his mouth to respond, but the words didn’t come immediately.

—It’s not that… —he murmured finally, averting his gaze—. It’s more complicated than that.

—More complicated? —Susan repeated, raising an eyebrow—. I don’t know what’s going on with you, but I hope this isn’t about the kiss with Elijah or something like that.

Ethan suddenly stood up, pushing the chair aside.

—You know what? Forget it. I don’t know why I try to talk to you. You always avoid everything, even now that we’re not ourselves.

—Where are you going? —Susan shouted, raising her voice.

—Anywhere where I don’t have to deal with you —Ethan responded, leaving the kitchen and leaving Susan with an expression of confusion and anger.

As he walked toward his room, his thoughts swirled in his mind. Was Susan right? Was he confusing his emotions? Between Elijah’s kiss, Joshua’s body, and his accumulated frustration, nothing seemed to make sense.

Days passed in which Ethan and Susan barely spoke to each other. The resentment from breakfast still lingered, and each one had opted to focus on their own routines. Susan, in Alex's young and athletic body, had become the life of the gym; always surrounded by people, she generated glances and conversations wherever she went. Meanwhile, Ethan preferred to isolate himself in the apartment, playing video games and reflecting on what had happened at that party.

The image of Elijah continued to haunt his mind, especially the kiss they shared. Ethan felt confused, as if that experience had awakened something in him, something he still couldn't fully understand.

On the fifth day, finally, something changed. Tired of the awkward silence, Susan approached Ethan in the living room while he was playing.

—Can we talk? —she asked, in a softer tone than usual.

Ethan paused the game and looked at her, hesitating for a moment.

—I suppose so.

Susan sat next to him, settling into the couch.

—I want to apologize. Not just for what happened at the party, but… for everything. For how things have been between us, even before this strange exchange.

Ethan watched her, surprised by her sincerity.

—I’ve messed up too. I’ve been too wrapped up in myself… and, well, you saw what happened that night. I shouldn’t have scolded you like that.

—No, you were right —Susan admitted—. I’ve always been the type to avoid things instead of facing them. But after all this… I think it’s time to change, for Dylan. Although now, technically, he’s our best friend.

They both chuckled lightly, easing some of the tension.

—For Dylan —Ethan said, raising his fist.

—For Dylan —Susan repeated, bumping her fist against Ethan's.

For a moment, silence settled again, but this time it wasn’t uncomfortable. There was something in the air, a connection they both felt but didn’t know how to express. Susan looked at him with a mix of curiosity and nervousness.

—Can I ask you something? —she said.

—Sure.

—What happened with Elijah?

Ethan sighed and looked away.

—It was strange. I don’t know why he did it… but when he kissed me, I didn’t hate it.

Susan looked at him intently, processing his words.

—You didn’t hate it?

—No. In fact, I think… I liked it.

The atmosphere grew more intimate. Susan placed her hand on Ethan's, and he looked directly at her for the first time in days.

—Maybe all of this is a sign —Susan whispered—. A way to show us that we don’t have to cling to who we were before.

Ethan nodded, and before he could respond, Susan leaned in toward him. It was a soft kiss, filled with a mix of nostalgia, curiosity, and something new that neither of them had ever felt before.

What started as a kiss soon turned into something more. Their bodies, although not their original ones, seemed to fit in a way they had never imagined. They surrendered to the moment, leaving behind the doubts and conflicts that had separated them for so long.

Days later...

Life went on. They hadn’t returned to their original bodies, but it no longer seemed to matter. Ethan and Susan had decided to stop searching for the old woman and, instead, embrace this new opportunity to get to know each other from a completely different perspective.

Dylan, still on the cruise, was completely unaware of what had happened between them, but he would surely find out when he returned. In the meantime, Susan and Ethan found a new routine, learning to live with their new realities and with a relationship that, although unexpected, had given them a new perspective on what it meant to be partners, friends, and companions in this surreal experience that they now called life.

The end

#body swap #age regression #straight to gay #gay to straight #female to male #fantasy #gay #personality change #mental change #reality change #male tf #male body swap #male to female

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webbluvrsugar · 4 months ago

Note

Hellowww, love your writing.

I can't stop thinking about reader being tuned on by Ethan being such a nerd, like every time he says something smart or dorky she just wants to jump his bones.

a/n: since I’ve been so obsessed with the concept of my bully!reader, I decided to make her in this one. Final request that has pretty Ethan header because it consumes a lot of time and I can’t get them out quick.

not proofread

Ethan turns you on in the weirdest ways…

Ethan is always telling you some random nerdy thing that you didn’t even ask about but sometimes relates to what your speaking of, he blames his quick thinking and apologises when you mock him for it, what he doesn’t know is that… it’s attractive, in a way.

You don’t know where your fondness for nerds started, but it surely seems a lot more noticeable when he’s a sound, sure, you make fun of him and you curse him out but there’s always times that you find yourself biting down on your pen, slowly getting more interested in what he’s saying, it’s weird…

“I can’t believe his head exploded like — why would he take off his spacesuit?” You comment about a recent movie you’ve seen, completely disgusted by it, you sit down on your chair, Ethan, who’s sitting on the desk besides you, can’t help but listen it.

“You know… that’s actually not true.” He points out.

Your frown, turn to him with a scoff. “What?”

“Your head wouldn’t explode if you.. took off your suit.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“It wouldn’t, it’s impossible.” He mutters. “You would just… go blind from the blood vessels in your head popping, then you’d slowly freeze and —“ he keeps speaking, your eyes go down to his lips, you can’t even remember what you were talking about in the first place. “You’d asphyxiate.”

Your lips are lightly parted, he thinks you’re confused but you aren’t, you’re just in a very.. very light transe from what he just said, eyes focused on his before he speaks up.

“S — Sorry.” He fiddles with his pen, sighing.

“Uhm…” you chuckle, almost if not believing him. “how do you… how do you even know that?”

“I… read a lot of books, google things often…” he swallows hard, nervous of your reaction.

“‘Course you do.” You mock, crossing one leg over the other. “Tell me, E, what other facts do you know?”

It’s the first time you really do seem interested in what he has to say without making fun of him and Ethan takes advantage of it, he starts rambling about some geek movie stuff, something that you quickly start ignoring once you feel heat pooling down your stomach, it’s unlike you, it’s unlike him to be seducing you — if he’s even doing so — but it just works so well, and after a matter of minutes, you’re not sure what you’re even staring at.

Somehow, Ethan notices it, this time, it’s going to be him who teases you.

“Got it?” He raises one eyebrow, tries to hide back the smirk on his face.

“Y — Yeah, totally.” You swallow. “But it was so hard to, I was getting distracted by all your geeky stuff, I mean shit’s so boring.”

Ethan chuckles, and it’s the first time he’s ever laughed at you, in your face. “For someone who’s so smart, you don’t seem to have a lot of brains when I’m talking.”

“What?”

“Just saying, you’re.. so dull when you’re talking to me.” He points out.

“The hell does that mean?”

“Nothing, I just… I just think maybe you’re not so truthful about your hate towards me…”

You scoff, as if you don’t believe him, deep down, you know he’s probably right, but you’ll deny it.

“What? You think I find you hot or something? Get a grip, nerd, I wouldn’t like you even if you were born again.” You scoff, so upset that you stand, grab your things and leave.

Ethan know he should be offended, but he really can’t be anything other than glad when he sees the look on your face as you walk away.

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mrsaltieri-real · 1 year ago

Text

The Next Stop (Ethan Landry x AFAB!Reader)

Words: 1.6k

Warnings: slight langauge, AFAB!Reader, (no pronouns specified) vaginal fingering, clit rubbing, smut, public smut, slight dub-con, strangers, slight exhibitionist/voyeurism kink, shame kink, masturbation, (vibrator) mentions of Ethan being Ghostface and the killings.

A/N: I’ve been thinking about the gif below a LOT as of late, he looks so fucking hot and this just sprang to mind last night and I whacked it all together. It’s hot, I think. Getting fingered by Ethan on a train but you have no idea who the fuck he is??? Uhhh yeah, this plays into my exhibitionist kink nicely.

The subway was oddly quiet, granted it was coming up to three in the morning, but still. You’d stayed at college late, cramming for your upcoming finals until you’d noticed just how late it really was and decided it was time to race home, get a few hours of nyquil induced sleep before having to relive the same day again tomorrow. You could say you were a bit of an overachiever. You texted your roommate quickly once you flopped down in a free seat, utterly exhausted, telling her you were on the way home but didn’t receive a response.

You sighed, leaning your head back against your seat and mindlessly played around on your phone, flipping from app to app absently when you suddenly felt the uneasy feeling that somebody was watching you.

The subway car only had about fourteen people inside, some were asleep, others were hunched over their own devices, working from a laptop or texting from their cell as you had been. Everyone except a tall, lean curly haired guy who stood with his hand gripping the pole beside him so tightly his knuckles were completely white, his dark brown eyes shamelessly staring at you with an endearingly intense glint shining in them.

You cleared your throat, tearing your eyes away from his fervid and observing gaze, focusing your consciousness back onto your phone. He was pretty, no doubt about that, the way he was staring at you made a dull flutter cascade through your core and inflame your stomach. The coach came to an abrupt stop, your hand flying out to catch yourself on the pole beside you to stop yourself falling out of the seat and the automated woman on the speaker announced that you were two stops away from your destination. Your phone buzzed in your hand and you glanced down, seeing your roommate text you back that she was heading to bed and for you to make sure you get home safe.

As you were about to respond, you were suddenly aware that someone had sat down carefully beside you. You glanced up for a moment, noticing the curly haired boy had settled in the seat next to you, eyes now set forward at the doors of the train. The smell of his cologne filled your nose, the scent subtle yet having an unprecedented effect on you, thighs tensing and your cunt clenching. You looked away quickly, sending a quick reply to your roommate and wishing her a good night before placing your phone into your jacket pocket, choosing to settle your gaze on the window, watching as New York passed you by, trying to ignore the boy sitting beside you.

His knee was touching yours, the rough material of his jeans rubbing against your bare skin at every jostle of the train. His hand resting on his thigh deftly dropped between the small gap separating the two of you, his bare fingers making contact with your soft skin casually. Your eyes instinctively darted down, watching as his fingertips began to faintly stroke your skin, grazing over the hem of your skirt.

You couldn’t help but steal a glance at his pretty face and noticed he looked almost bored, completely uninterested and still not looking at you at all. You felt his fingers glide over your thigh, stopping abruptly as he reached the middle, a soft tap of his fingers as if he was ordering you to open your legs for him.

You couldn’t do this, let some random fucking guy you’d never met start touching your pussy on the middle of the subway.

Just from the limited contact alone, you were already pathetically wet. It was like your body and mind had completely separated from one another as you lightly inched your legs apart, allowing him to slide his hand between them, his fingers grazing at the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

You let out a small, shaky sigh as he dragged his fingers up, stopping just before he made direct contact for a few seconds, as if he were making a decision about how he wanted to touch you before the rough pads of his fingers brushed over your strained clit through your panties softly, the touch so faint it shouldn’t have even had that much of an effect on you, but alas, it did.

Your breathing hitched and from the corner of your eye, you could’ve sworn you’d seen his lips twitch up into a small smile but you didn’t bother to look, worried it would snap you out of whatever the fuck had gotten into you.

This wasn’t you, you weren’t even the kind of person to interact with a stranger unless it was entirely necessary, but here you were, at three o’clock in the morning with your legs open and dying to let this random guy touch your pussy in a public space, practically gagging for it.

He began carefully moving his middle and forefinger in a gentle circular motion, rubbing your clit teasingly through your damp panties before, without warning, they were pushed aside, the hot pads of his fingers finally making direct contact with your strained, aching clit.

Your hand wrapped around the cold pole next to you again, this time to stop yourself from moaning aloud, your eyes fluttering closed as he began to play with your clit, his fingers skillful as he rubbed in small circular motions, his eyes still fixed ahead of him as though he wasn’t doing anything, as though this was an completely normal interaction. Perhaps it was for him, but at that moment you couldn’t care less. You didn’t care that the subway car was littered with strangers that could very well be watching this guy touch you so intimately, making you push yourself against his fingers like a needy whore with your head tilted back, eyes screwed up as you focused on just how good he was making you feel.

His fingers moved from your clit, dragging down your slit and collecting your juices, briefly plunging them inside and curling upward, pressing firmly against the spongy tissue and making you let out a soft whimper, looking down to see this strangers fingers gently pumping in and out of your cunt. Your legs were so wide from him now, your knee was practically resting against his thigh.

He removed his fingers before moving his fingers back up, using your juices coating his fingers to carry on playing with your exposed clit. Your chest began to heave, your hips unconsciously bucking against his hand as he worked over you casually, still not looking at you. Soft moans and gasps escaped you and you sunk your teeth harshly into your bottom lip and bit the inside of your cheeks so hard you could almost taste blood, trying desperately to be as quiet as you could manage as you clenched around nothing, feeling the fire in your stomach build and burn hotter and hotter with each expert glide of his slick fingers, your legs opening wider and wider for him which seemed to please him judging by how fast his fingers began to work your clit.

The pressure was perfect, the speed of his strong fingers was making your impending orgasm loom dangerously close as your back arched from your seat, pushing yourself against his long fingers before your eyes flew open and you came with a soft gasp on this tips of this stranger's fingers, hand gripping the cold metal of the pole so hard it’s a wonder it didn’t bend. Your eyes flew open as you reached your peak, meeting a man’s shocked and wide eyed gaze as he stared at you, mouth agape as he watched you cum, body shivering and writhing as you pushed your hips down against the strangers fingers, feeling them slide from your clit and into your soaked hole with every movement of your body.

The train stopped as you felt the warmth of his fingers abandon you. He cleared his throat a little, still not looking at you as he stood up, grabbing his bag from the ground and walked toward the doors. You finally moved your gaze onto him, watching as he left the train car, walked onto the platform without even looking back and disappeared up the steps of the station and vanished out of sight.

You felt suddenly self-conscious as your eyes met an older woman’s, her expression nothing short of disgusted, and the man that had watched you cum, his eyes still as wide as dinner plates as he stumbled up from his seat and adjusted himself in his pants, leaving the train looking completely dazed, as though this was the highlight of his month. Maybe it was. You shifted in your seat, feeling your wetness covering your thighs and no doubt staining the seat beneath you as you quickly closed your legs, crossing one over the other and pulled at the hem of your skirt, eyes quickly moving away from the woman and back through the window, beginning to bite at your nails, feeling satisfied yet extremely vulnerable and disgusting.

Did that really just fucking happen?

Despite the disgust you felt in yourself, it only added to your satisfaction. It felt new, different and exciting. You couldn't lie, you absolutely loved the combination of the mixed feelings.

Needless to say you never saw him again, you’d never really expected to. You thought about him a lot though, pressing your vibrator against your clit while you were alone in your bedroom, imagining the scent of his cologne, the warmth of his fingers as they expertly touched you, and just how fucking pretty he was and how hard he’d made you cum and just how easy it was for him to touch you, as if it was completely normal.

That was, until a few weeks later. You were at home, working on your thesis for class when the news grabbed your attention.

“Ghostface killers finally come to a grisly end. The family of killers, Detective Wayne Bailey and his children and resident Blackmore University students Quinn Bailey and Ethan Bailey, formally known as Landry, all brutally murdered after targeting previous survivors of the 2022 Woodsboro massacre, Samantha and Tara Carpenter, Chad and Mindy Meeks, and celebrity Gale Weathers.”

Your eyes widened as soon as you saw “Ethan’s” picture lighting up your screen, recognition hitting immediately. That was him, the stranger from the subway you'd all too willingly opened your legs for. Then your blood ran cold when the realisation that you’d let a murderer get you off and make you cum on a fucking train hit you like a ton of bricks.

#whooooo boy #this was FUN #look how pretty he is #LOOK #love him forever #anyways #i’m dead now #goodbye #scream #ethan landry #scream 6 #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x you #ethan landry smut #ghostface #ghostface x reader #ghostface smut #slasher #slasher x reader

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webslingingslasher · 2 years ago

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Frat Peter and he's all cocky, but he gets really shy when you're around and his friends keep teasing him about his little crush and how he's putty in your hands and you don't even know?

god i love him so much

“Your girls here, parker.”

Peter rolls his eyes, as much as he denies no one believes him. You’re not his girl, not by a long shot but god does he wish you were. The jab still couldn’t stop him from swiveling his neck, sure enough you were laughing with friends, your wide smile made him smile too. You looked so pretty, he’s never seen someone fill out clothes the way you do.

He needs to find a way to talk to you, it started as group partners and he may have played a little dumb to get you to study with him, just for some one on one time. Since then you’ve gotten closer, and everyday he feels more and more like a lovesick puppy. He’d do anything you ask, just so he can prove he could make you happy.

“Pong, let’s go, parker.”

Peter wants to whine like a toddler, he wouldn’t be able to keep an eye on you. Not that he needs to, and definitely not to scare off a potential suitor, he just wants to make sure you’re safe, that’s all. He looks you over again, you’re with friends and he thinks you’ll be alright.

Right before he can turn back to his brothers your eyes flicker up, meeting his you send a grin. Peter’s been caught, he’s been looking over you for a minute and that smile said ‘caught you,’ it made his cheeks warm, a faint blush coats his cheeks and you can’t help but watch as his friends hoop and shake his shoulders, causing him to nearly run to the garage for a game of beer pong.

Peter doesn’t know how long he’s been playing. He knows it’s been about three games, and he’s trying to act the perfect amount of buzzed. What he does know is that time stopped when you came looking for him, his ears picking up on your fluttery soft voice pushing for apologies.

“Do you know where peter is?”

Wasted white girl looks appalled you asked, “who the fuck is peter?”

“Oh. Um, parker?”

Wasted white girl drags out an ‘oh,’ then points in his general direction, you raise on tiptoes, looking over the shoulders in the cramped room, catching sight of his snapback, turned backwards. You started to make your decent, politely excusing yourself and apologizing when you rub up against someone.

You think about tapping his shoulder, but you’re a menace. You tug at his hat, pulling it off his head, before you can complete the task his hand grips your wrist, a dull tone comes from his mouth.

“Don’t do that.”

Your hand drops, you didn’t know there was a boundary there.

“I’m sorry!”

His head whips to yours, wide eyed and flushed.

“I didn’t know it was you! You can do that, you have my permission.”

His teammate, Ethan, if you remember correctly, coughed into his hand, one word slipping from his mouth made Peter jerk his shoulder into his. “Simp.”

You furrow your eyebrows, “peter’s not a simp, that’s mean. You should say sorry.”

Ethan is having fun, “oh trust me, if you knew what I know, you would call him a simp too.” Peter, in a panic, rips his hat off his head and throws it on yours, it falls over your eyes, you fix it with enough time to watch Peter mumble out “watch it,” before directing all his attention on you.

“Looking good.”

You do a spin for him, “think I can pledge next year?”

“You have my vote.”

Ethan had to bite back another simp comment.

“Can you do me a favor?”

Rushed, “anything.”

Ethan can’t help his snort, he tries to hide it behind clearing his throat.

Peter wants to kill his friend.

“I’ve been ditched and I really have to pee, so would you mind watching my drink?”

Peter holds out a hand to take it, his palm covering the open mouth. “It would be my honor.”

You smile at him, “thanks, be right back.”

“Five minutes and I come looking.”

That was new, it was protective. It made you feel warm and safe inside, he was a really good friend. You promised you would be back, but the line was longer than you expected and you were unable to complete the task in just a few minutes.

Peter kept count, and like he said, went looking. Ethan’s pissed that they’ve now lost the game to a forfeit, all because Peter was head over heels in a gushy crush. You bound down the steps in time to see Peter getting aggravated by his friend, you couldn’t help but overhear.

“You know this is super entertaining, right?”

“Shut up, Ethan.”

“It’s adorable. The way you run after her, bending to her will. Who knew parker had a bitch in him.”

In one quick motion Peter had him pinned to the wall.

“Don’t ruin this for me. I’m gonna make a move, alright? She makes me nervous and I’m not used to this, okay?”

“Ask her on a fucking date, I’d put a thousand on the line she’d say yes.”

You wonder who he’s talking about, you have more than an inkling it’s you but Peter’s never seemed interested, just a good friend. It must have been someone else.

“I’m not betting on Y/N, I like her too much.”

Oh fuck. He is talking about you, and it makes you warm and fuzzy all over.

Ethan is right, you would say yes.

You duck your head down, pressing against the bars on the stairway.

“I’m okay with you betting on me, take the grand and then take me out on a nice date.”

Peter’s eyes blew up, he wanted to punch Ethan. He also wanted to thank him.

“It’s not like that!” Peter feels his brain melt, stop talking, why are you talking?

You frown, “it’s not?”

Ethan tries to push his head against the wall, his chin poking up high to get a view of you crouched down. “It is like that, you heard him.” He gags when Peter presses his forearm against his throat, it’s not meant to hurt, just silence.

“Well, if it is like that, and I make you nervous, there really isn’t a need cause I would say yes.”

Peter’s arm drops, “come here.”

Ethan takes this as his moment to escape, you watch the stairs as you follow them down, narrowly missing a spilled beer. Peter meets you at the bottom of the staircase, he hands you over the drink he’d been watching.

“Thank you.”

“No problem.”

You blinked at the boy, he stood there and looked at his hat on your head. You waited until it started to get awkward.

“If you don’t ask, I will, then I’ll have ripped the rights from you. You’ll have to tell our grandkids you chickened out.”

That doesn’t sound bad to him, but he thinks the least he can do is get the words out.

“I would really, really like to take you out for dinner, is that okay?”

You chew your cheek, “what’s your policy on kissing before the first date?”

“It should be a thing.”

You bite your lower lip to hide your smile, it didn’t work.

“Wanna make it a thing?”

#peter parker x reader #tasm! peter parker x reader #peter parker blurb #tasm!peter x reader #peter parker fluff #tasm!peter fluff #my writing #frat!peter

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antidesire · 2 years ago

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im willing to sacrifice all my limbs for you write leon putting reader in a mating press

woahhh woah ethan winters, let’s keep all our limbs in tact

disclaimer.. afab!reader x leon s. kennedy. 18+ only! p in v, mating press, dirty talk, praise, biting, pet names, size kink implied, creampie, don't be like them, use protection and practice safe sex. feel like my writing got sloppy at the end, i apologise.

reblogs and feedback are appreciated. requests are open

“mating press?” you heard your boyfriend repeat, acting oblivious. blood quickly flowed straight to your cheeks, making them burn red,

“yes, it’s like a position, in bed, y’know..” you tried to explain, rather coyly.

leon laughed, which only caused you further embarrassment, your arms crossing over your chest and lips pressed together firmly, “it’s not funny.”

“it’s not, i just think it’s cute you still get all shy. baby, if you wanted me to turn you into a damn pretzel or wanted me crawling around on my knees in circles, i’d do it for you.” he cooed, mockingly as he cupped your cheeks.

“ugh, shut up, you’re such an asshole.” you groaned, jabbing his chest and swatting away his arms, suppressing the laughter bubbling in your throat.

you both had managed to make and maintain trust and comfort with exploring and talking about your sexual life, it made things much more exciting- not that it was ever dull, to begin with, but something about this all had made you become much closer, feeling like you both knew each other more than your own selves.

which is how you both found yourselves on the bed, tangled limbs and tongues, your fingers clawing at his clothing until they found grip on his belt, “m-mh, get off.” you huffed, almost scolding the leather holding his pants up, hearing leon chuckle against your ear amidst open mouth, wet kisses he was adorning your neck with, teeth grazing along your skin.

he was making it hard for you to rid him of his clothes- which you found quite unfair considering you had barely blinked and you were left in nothing but your jewelry, slick bastard.

his hips were grinding down on you, rough denim pressing against your bare cunt which had your body reeling upwards against him, “leon, help me out here.” you whine pathetically as you tugged his belt from his loop holes, throwing it aside somewhere amongst your pile of clothes.

he grumbled something- probably grumpy he had to turn his attention away from you, pushing himself up he raised his arms to tug his shirt over his head, your eyes wasting no time darting to the expanse of his bare chest, next came off the rest of his clothes in a haste.

“god, you’re so handsome.” you spoke your thoughts aloud, fingertips reaching out to rub along his stomach, over the bumps of his physic that all his years of training rewarded him with.

if you weren’t so distracted with your own advances you would’ve noticed the warmth that reached his cheeks, and his throat bobbing.

“I want you so bad.” your fingers curled into the flesh of his hip, legs parting until they clasped around his back, pushing against him with all intents to have him as close as possible, to entice him.

he could’ve sworn he felt all the blood rush straight down to his cock, evident by the way it twitched and the way his pearly pre cum sat pretty at the tip, “you’re gonna drive me insane.” he sighed out.

you would’ve laughed but the way the head of his length was rubbing past your puffy warmth and nudging your clit made your head feel fuzzy. your fingertips trailed from his chest up until they reached his shoulders, squeezing onto them in an attempt to retain some composure.

“please..” you breathed out quietly, nails dragging down his back just to scratch back upwards, feeling the goosebumps form on his skin.

to leon, there was nothing prettier than your sweet pleas, the way your features softened but your body lurched towards him and your fingers gripped any inch of his body they could get ahold of.

“i know baby.” he hummed, lips pushing against yours, you leaned up a little, eager to kiss him back with just as much passion, the taste of him your favourite thing in the world.

leon's arms ducked under your legs, lifting them upwards a little before his hips pressed flush against the lower back of your thighs, sheathing his cock inside you easily thanks to how soaking wet you were, “oh, leon..” you mewled, hand tangling in the long lock of his hair, squeezing his body into you.

“so warm.” leon squeezed onto the pillow beside your head as he began rocking his hips, back and forth, steadily at first, feeling your tummy flutter, that deliciously stretching feeling of adjusting to his size, how your body has gotten used to him, shaped exactly to him, for him.

“feel good, hmm sweetheart?” he pushed himself up a little, propelling your legs until they folded on each other, squished to your chest before lifting your calves to rest over his shoulders, “comfortable?” a smile tugged at the corners of his lips which had your heart fluttering.

“mhm, comfortable.” you squeezed his arm reassuringly before glancing down, looking between where the both of you were connected, the way you could see the bulge of him pressed against your tummy, drifting your hand down to push against it, “keep going.” you encouraged him, fluttering your eyelashes up at him.

leon’s eyebrows were furrowed and his tongue dashed out to lick over his lips, watching you beneath him like this was making his cock twitch inside you and it took every ounce of his sanity to not lose it all. he eased his hips back before stuffing inside you once again, leaning down to push his weight against you, the back of your thighs against his chest as your feet bumped in the air with every bounce, the bed frame creaking in tandem.

the tight, confined feeling of his weight pushing against you felt delightful, your body filled with leon, your mind, thoughts and heart swelling with him. you couldn’t move the lower half of your body an inch, not even a squirm, as close as he already was your arms flew out to crush him further into you, hugging him as close as possible, feeling his breath on your cheek- your own breath turned into small heaves, the air feeling like it was knocked out of your chest as he fucked you into the mattress, pussy squelching around him.

“i’m not going anywhere baby, this pussy is all mine to use, you’re all mine.” he gushed out, his arm reaching past your head until it settled on the headboard, tight-fisted grip making the wood creak and with every thrust it obscenely crashed into the wall.

“this what you wanted sweetheart? you’re so fucking obsessed with me, just can’t get enough..” he grunted, every pump of his hips getting more and more erratic and you could barely even form a sentence in your own head let alone babble coherent words.

“too much? i can slow down?” he teases, drawing out his words, chuckling when your eyes flew open in a panic,

“no, n-no—“ you gasped when he pushed flush against you, cock pressed so deeply inside of you, a strained squeal sounding from your throat, “oh my god, leon.” you cried out, “i love it s’much.”

that’s all he needed to hear, hips continuously slamming into yours, not even giving you time to catch your breath, your body bounces shallowly beneath him, clutching on to his arm before you turned your head to bite down on his wrist, hearing him hiss through his teeth.

“fuck!” he groaned, “i can feel you sucking me back in every time i’m not deep in your guts.” he chuckled out in bliss, finding the feeling out of this world, something he’ll never get enough of.

teeth marks were imprinted on his wrist when you let up, salvia glistening on your lips, eyes squeezed shut as you concentrated on that bubbling feeling at the pit of your stomach, “m’ so- oh!” you squealed when he changed the angle of his hips, somehow drilling his cock even deeper inside you, “leon!” you cried, legs over his shoulders spasming and your soppy, abused pussy was clenching around him as you climaxed, arousal coating his length, leon not letting up in his relentless pace, knowing you could take it.

he got whinier, higher pitched as he got even closer and closer to release, his pleasured sounds were oh so heavenly to you, especially in the state you were in, even though your ears were ringing and oversensitivity was kicking in, he was the most gorgeous precense.

his thrusts became sloppy, messy, and he buried his head against your neck, taking the opportunity to weakly reach up to his head, tangling your fingers through his hair and dragging your nails along his scalp, “cum baby, i want it so badly, please.” you pressed gentle kisses to his cheek.

“baby, you feel.. so, so good.” he muffled against your neck, feeling the way his hips stuttered before his hot release spurted out, filling you up. breathlessly gasping out at the feeling, you let him push into you over and over again to ride out his high, your nails still dancing along his scalp, occasional tug of his hair.

“mmh..” he panted out, eyes fluttering back open as he fell on top of you, wincing at the way your muscles ached, but you struggled to tell him to move yet, he was like a tired puppy all of a sudden, nose nuzzled into your neck and soft warm breaths fluttering along your skin, his arms maneuvered to around your waist in a strong hug.

“baby, as much as i love you so much, can we do this with my legs, not in the air.” you heard him muffle a laugh against you before pushing himself up, letting your legs relax back down on the bed.

“if i clean you up can we cuddle and take a nap?” he stretched his arms upwards before rolling his shoulders back.

“how could i ever say no to you?” you giggled, leaning up on your elbows and pressing kisses to his face.

“i don’t know, guess i’m just the best boyfriend ever- not to brag or anything.” he shrugged his shoulders, followed by a dumb wink.

#resident evil smut #re smut #resident evil 4 smut #resident evil leon #leon kennedy smut #leon smut #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil leon smut #re 4 smut #resident evil #leon kennedy

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brischaoticdreams · 5 months ago

Text

these two stickers i designed for max and ethan :3

#jason schwartzman #max fischer #rushmore #rushmore 1998 #ethan dulles #slackers #slackers 2002 #my art

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multi-fandom-imagine · 2 months ago

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I need an imagine of house vs a his toddler daughter having a tantrum

A/n: Girl!Dad House 👏

It started innocently enough, Emma, the one-year-old firecracker of the House family, had been happily playing in the living room with her favorite blocks. House was sitting in his chair, half-watching her while going through some paper work, his cane leaning against the armrest. You were in the kitchen, feeding Ethan, Emma's brother and your six year old Lilly. It was the kind of quiet moment that House knew never lasted long in their house.

It all began when Emma, determined as ever, tried to stack her blocks into a tower that was clearly too tall and unstable. As soon as the top block tipped over and the whole structure came crashing down, her little face scrunched up, and a loud wail erupted from her tiny lungs.

House looked up, raising an eyebrow. “Seriously? It’s a tower. They’re supposed to fall.” Glasses perched on his nose.

Emma didn’t care. Her frustration boiled over, and she threw one of the blocks across the room, narrowly missing the leg of House’s chair.

“Impressive aim,” House muttered, setting the down the paper.“But you’re not winning any points for sportsmanship.”

Emma, clearly not satisfied with her father’s lack of sympathy, picked up another block and chucked it in his direction. This one hit his shin with a dull thud.

House winced but smirked, leaning forward. “Oh, so that’s how it’s gonna be, huh? You think you can intimidate me with your tiny arms and big feelings?”

Emma let out a loud, indignant scream, her face turning red as she flopped onto her back and began kicking her legs in full tantrum mode.

“Wow,” House said dryly, watching her theatrics. “You’ve really got this down, don’t you? I’m almost impressed...you know your sister would do the same thing. I'm immune to your tears."

You appeared in the doorway, holding Ethan on her hip, Lilly by you side your expression a mix of amusement and exasperation. “What’s going on in here?”

“Your daughter,” House said, gesturing to the tiny tornado on the floor, “has declared war on gravity and is taking it out on me.”

You sighed, walking over to set Ethan in his playpen before kneeling next to Emma. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

Emma didn’t answer, too busy flailing and crying, her frustration clearly reaching its peak.

“She tried to build a tower, it fell, and now I’m apparently public enemy number one,” House explained, still sitting back in his chair, his tone laced with sarcasm.

You shot him a look. “Greg, she’s a baby. She’s upset.”

“And I’m offering her valuable life lessons about disappointment,” House quipped. “What do you want me to do? Sing her a lullaby?”

You ignored him, turning your attention back to Emma. “Emma, sweetie, I know you’re upset, but throwing things isn’t okay. Can you use your words and tell Mommy what’s wrong?”

Emma paused her tantrum just long enough to glare at House, then pointed at him accusingly. “Daddy mean!”

House smirked, crossing his arms. “I rest my case. She’s already a natural at assigning blame.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, even as she tried to keep a straight face. “Greg, can you at least try to help calm her down?”

House sighed dramatically, leaning forward and picking up one of the blocks that Emma had thrown. He held it out to her, his expression mock-serious. “Alright, Emma. Let’s make a deal. You stop crying, and I’ll help you build the best tower this living room has ever seen.”

Emma sniffled, eyeing him suspiciously but clearly intrigued by the offer. She sat up, still clutching one of her blocks, her little face tear-streaked but curious.

“That’s right,” House said, his tone softening slightly. “We’ll make it taller and sturdier. And if it falls again, we’ll blame it on your mom.”

“Greg!” You scolded, though the smile on your face showed you weren't serious.

Emma hesitated for a moment, then crawled over to House, handing him her block with a determined look. “Build!"

House smirked, glancing up at you. “See? Negotiation. It’s all about setting terms.”

Shaking your head, you watched as House lent forward to start stacking the blocks with Emma. As the tower grew taller, Emma’s tantrum was completely forgotten, replaced by giggles and babbling as she tried to help. House even pretended to cheer when she placed the final block on top.

“There,” he said, sitting back. “The Eiffel Tower of Blocks. It’s a masterpiece.”

Emma clapped her hands, clearly delighted. You smiled, leaning against the doorway as you watched the two. Despite House’s sarcasm and gruff exterior, he always managed to connect with the kids in his own unique way.

As if on cue, the tower wobbled and came crashing down again. Emma’s eyes widened, and you braced yourself for another meltdown—but instead, Emma looked up at House and laughed.

“Again!” she said, thrusting a block into his hand.

House smirked, glancing at you. “See? Told you I’ve got this parenting thing down.”

Rolling your eyes you stepped forward with a smile spreading across her face. “You’re impossible.” You stated placing a kiss to the side of his temple.

“And yet, you love me,” House said smugly, already starting to rebuild the tower with Emma.

"That I do,” you said softly, watching your husband and daughter bond in the aftermath of what could’ve been a disaster. For all his flaws, House had a way of turning even the worst tantrums into moments of connection and that is something you wouldn’t trade for anything.

#drabbles #drabble #gregory house #greg house #gregory house x reader #greg house x reader #house #house md #house x reader #house md x reader #house md x you

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prettybabybaby · 2 years ago

Note

Dark!Ethan x reader with Ethan having his way with drunk reader in a dark alley with his ghost face costume on. He’s had a crush on her for a long time but she rejected him. She’s also apart of the Woodsboro group.

¡ 18+ only ! ¡ minors do not interact !

content: noncon, dark!ethan, fem!reader, public sex

¡ scream masterlist !

you were lost, ending up on an unfamiliar street as you searched for ethan. you were drunk and nauseous, vision muddled from the alcohol and exasperation as you swiveled your head from side to side too quickly. you groaned, feeling tears fill your waterline.

you felt terrible, regretting the drunken words as soon as they left your mouth. you were used to playing into his little crush enough to keep him close, unable to bare losing his friendship. but after all this time, he had finally confessed and the atmosphere on top of being intoxicated had you revealing your true feelings, a little harsher than you would without the drunken confidence. he had rushed off, an unfamiliar look gracing his features that had guilt falling into the pit of your stomach. you followed after him seconds later when your legs caught up to your compromised brains demands.

your mission was to find the ghostface, ethans last minute costume change but ghostface was everywhere. the masked killer was the most popular costume of the year and the streets were crawling with replicas. you dropped your head into your hands, sighing as your palm caught your dwindling tears.

you picked up your head as they stopped, determination overtaking the sadness as you glanced around again.

your gaze skipped past a shadow in the alley, mind barely registering the slight wave. you looked again, using your full attention follow the movement of the masked killer but his hand didn't raise itself again. you furrowed your brows, confident steps propelling you towards him as he stood perfectly still.

"e! there you are," you stood before the shadowy figure. "i was looking everywhere for you," you slur. "look... im sorry about what i said... i didn't," you sighed and lifted a hand to rest it on the stranger's arm, swallowing, "i just don't feel the same way."

moments of stillness followed, breathing from the man even but labored. he was tall, broad and intimidating. you stared into the empty eyes of the mask, slow thoughts of discomfort making your brows cinch again and your muscles tense as you kept your hand in its place. they alley suddenly felt darker.

"you're not ethan," you whispered, taking your warm hand off the cooled cloth-covered bicep. "sorry," you murmured.

he caught your wrist, slow steps pushing you towards the bricked wall. it was cold against your bare back, briefly clearing your mind and letting a dull panic sink in. "i need to find my friend," you said, pushing against the body that only seemed to get closer.

you could feel his heartbeat that thumped almost as harshly as yours. you shifted your shoulders as his touch ghosted up the sides, a slim finger trailed up the side of your neck until it reached your face. his gloved hand slit around your chin, strong grip squeezing your cheeks together. you stared at the menacing mask with wide eyes as a knee forced itself between your thighs and the empty hand on your side slithered to the apex of them. you jolted and turned your head, a strained protest forcing itself out.

the cloth pushed at the lace of your skimpy underwear, tugging it down until the strain stretched the fabric enough to dig painfully into the flesh of your thighs. you felt dizzy, tears working their way to the corners of your eyes again. your arms pushed but it has no effect, your nails tried to puncture the costume but you were no match. the rough feel of the gloves added to the sensation on your sensitive mound, making slick leak from your hole.

"stop," you mumbled, "i need to find, ethan."

you couldn't hold back the moans at his ministrations that grew rougher and quicker as your knees tried to close around his. your eyes were shut tight, hips rolling against his palm. you stiffened when a warm, hard, probing replaced his moistened glove.

you were shoved back forcefully as he slammed into you, his hips pushing against yours as if he wanted to be deeper. you hissed, sliding your hand up to his shoulder, "no, wait."

he didn't, harsh, desperate thrusts colliding with your throbbing cunt. you whined, tears slipping as you shoved his shoulder. the mask stared blankly at you, erratic grunts and groans distorted by the barrier.

your panties snapped when he lifted your knee to adjust his angle. your legs felt like jelly and you couldn't help but lean against him, "need to find..."

"are you looking for me? huh?" you whimpered as he sped up. "you're looking for me to break my heart again? no, i won't let you."

you were stunned, using all the strength you could muster to attempt to squirm away. "e, w-what are you doing?" you slur, tightening around his persistent movements. how could ethan do this?

"you'd let some random guy fuck you in the middle of an alley after you broke my heart? you'd whore yourself out like this?"

even you weren't drunk enough to think this encounter was anywhere near consensual. you whimper, "no, no, i didn't. was looking for you..."

"yeah, for what? to make me feel better?" he pulled the mask off, his hard, eyes boring into yours. the head of his cock hit a spot that had your eyes rolling, a shiver running up your spine and your walls clenching, "look me in the eyes and tell me you don't want me."

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agaypanic · 1 year ago

Note

Fun omg ok could you do the main mbav boys (Ethan, Benny, Rory) and how they would react/feel towards (gn) vampire s/o giving them random little love bites <3

The MBAV Boys Reacting To Love Bites From Their Vampire S/O

Masterlist

Request Something!

A/N: like i do with my headcanons, i did a few short sentences and then a little blurb :)

***

Benny

He likes it

He likes the attention and the way it feels

A kinda dull ache but in a nice way

Occasionally, he’ll do it back

Sometimes, he likes to pretend you bit him to the point of turning him just to bite you back

“Ah! I’m wounded!” Benny yelped, clutching the hand that you had gently nipped at. “I can feel the venom coursing through me.”

“Oh, brother.” You rolled your eyes, stifling your laugh as you watched Benny slip off his bed and onto the floor.

“It burns!” He said dramatically, starting to go rigid before going completely limp.

“That’s not how it works, you know?”

Benny ignored you, staying on the floor for a few more seconds before slowly rising to his feet. He faced you with a wide-eyed stare and outreaching arms.

“I vant to drink your blood!” He said in a typical Dracula voice.

“You watch too many movies.” You said with a giggle before Benny pounced on you, biting at any part of you he could.

Rory

Does it back

Like, without hesitation

Since you’re both vampires, you’re not really scared of just chomping down because it won’t affect you too badly

It quickly becomes a silent way of saying ‘I love you’

Weirds the gang out a little bit when you do it out of nowhere

Sometimes you leave teeth marks, but you and Rory think it’s funny

“Oh my god, Rory, what happened to your arm?” Ethan looked at his blonde friend in slight horror, gaze fixated on his right arm that was covered in faint bite marks.

“Yeah, Rory, who mauled you?” Benny asked, slightly more amused by the sight than Ethan was.

Rory looked down at his arm, as if he had forgotten that you had practically used him like a chew toy yesterday.

“Oh! That was just Y/n.” The blonde said with a shrug. “But if you think this is crazy, just wait until you see them.” Rory laughed. “I got both of their arms and their neck!”

“...excuse me?” Ethan seemed even more disturbed.

“What? It’s how we say ‘I love you!’”

Ethan

Kind of freaks him out at first

Especially if you’re doing it after the Jesse incident

He doesn’t really wanna be a vampire

(at least not right now, but that’s a conversation for later)

He’s okay with love bites when you don’t have your fangs out

You and Ethan were in his room, deeply invested in a video game. He was playing while you sat on his lap and watched.

You had developed a bit of a habit of biting Ethan. Not too harshly obviously, just a light nibble here and there. But sometimes, when you were distracted, like you were right now, your fangs would show.

Eyes locked on the screen, you shifted slightly in Ethan’s lap to give him a little love bite on the shoulder. But before you could take the bite, the game suddenly paused, and Ethan was giving you a serious look.

“Put them back.” He said, hand on your jaw to keep your mouth from getting closer to him. You gave him a confused look, and he gestured to your fangs.

“Oh.” You quickly retracted your fangs, smiling a now perfectly normal smile. “Better?”

“Much,” Ethan answered, hand dragging down from your jaw to your arm to give it a quick squeeze, as if to say thanks, before returning to the game. You made sure to give him a few love bites before resting your head on his shoulder and watching him play again.

***

Benny Weir Taglist: @batmandallyboy

#agaypanic #benny weir #benny weir x reader #benny weir headcanons #rory keaner #rory keaner x reader #rory keaner headcanons #ethan morgan #ethan morgan x reader #ethan morgan headcanons #my babysitter's a vampire #my babysitter's a vampire x reader

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tearsof-scarlet · 4 months ago

Text

run run run - ethan landry

Pairing: Ethan Landry x female! reader

Warning: I wanted to make this more spooky/creepy than romantic. Therefore, Ethan can be pretty creepy in some parts, also yandere (?) This is your warning!

TW: Gore, blood, swearing and slight mention of childhood issues (one sentence)

Summary: You have been noticing Ethan’s eyes on you whenever you are with him and your friends. As the college semester progresses, and ghost face’s murder count goes up you can’t help but notice Ethan’s strange demeanour and his interest in becoming closer to you.

note: offically 1st october yay! spooky season so i thought this was fitting

“Do you really think it’s a good idea to come to a party tonight?” you shouted at Mindy over the bass, your voice tight with unease. “This completely breaks your own horror movie rules, doesn’t it?”

Mindy laughed, the sound tinny and distant over the noise of the party. “Oh, come on, relax, ____. There’s like a hundred people here. We’re totally safe.” She shoved a red plastic cup into your hand, the liquid inside sloshing with something strong and biting.

She glanced at you, her smile fading when she saw the look on your face—your wide, nervous eyes darting toward the dark corners of the house, your shoulders tense, like you were waiting for something to happen. Something bad.

Mindy sighed and placed a hand on your shoulder, her touch warm but uncomfortably heavy. “Hey, I get it. You’ve been stressed out with school… and everything else.” Her voice lowered, almost like she didn’t want to say it out loud. “But tonight, we need to have fun. We won’t leave each other’s sight, okay? Promise.”

Her words hovered in the air like a faint breath, barely pushing away the gnawing unease coiling in your stomach. Still, you nodded, the fight draining from you. She was right, in a way. You’d been on edge for weeks now, barely sleeping, barely leaving your dorm. The murders had done that to everyone.

Three students. Brutally killed. The last one… she had lived in your hall. You could still hear the screams echoing in your mind, as if they were happening right now. That night had changed everything. You’d run out of your room, heart pounding, only to find her crumpled on the pavement, her blood spilling thick and dark onto the cold concrete. The smell of iron had filled the air, and the sound… the slow, wet drip of her blood as it pooled beneath her still body—it had frozen you in place.

The campus police had come too late. They always came too late.

Now, you locked yourself in your room, only leaving for class. Yet here you were, standing in the middle of a frat house, surrounded by pounding bass and laughter that felt too loud, too hollow, like everyone was trying to drown out the looming terror. You took a deep breath, raised your cup in a half-hearted toast to Mindy, and gulped down the drink.

After a few more, you began to loosen up, the alcohol dulling the edge of your fear. You danced with your friends, feeling the beat pulse through your body. For a moment, you let yourself forget—forget the screams, the blood, the shadow that seemed to hang over the campus like a curse. You were having fun again.

But after a while, the room grew stifling, the sweat slicking your skin. You tapped Tara on the shoulder. “I’m gonna get some air!” you shouted over the music.

Tara glanced at you, her brow furrowing. “You want me to come with?”

You followed her gaze to Chad, who stood behind her, their hands almost touching as they danced. They’d been pining for each other for months now, and you didn’t want to interrupt. “No, I’m fine,” you assured her, forcing a smile. “I won’t go far.”

Sliding through the packed bodies, you finally pushed through the door and stepped outside. The cold night air hit you hard, and you wrapped your arms around yourself, shivering. The muted thump of the bass from inside faded into the background as you stared out into the darkness.

You pulled out your phone, squinting at the screen as a message from Sam lit up. She was checking in on Tara, as usual. As you tapped out a reply, you heard it—the faint rustling of bushes nearby. Your heart skipped. You froze, staring into the dark.

The bushes shuddered again, a sharp, unnatural sound that sliced through the stillness. Your grip tightened on your phone. “Hello?” Your voice was barely above a whisper, swallowed by the heavy silence around you.

Nothing. The stillness pressed in, suffocating. Your fingers fumbled for the flashlight on your phone, the screen blurring as your hands shook. Just as you were about to turn it on, you felt it—a hand, cold and sudden, on your shoulder.

You spun around, your scream strangled in your throat as you staggered back, slamming into the wall behind you. A tall figure loomed before you, the dim streetlight casting long, sharp shadows over their face.

“Hey! Whoa, ____! It’s just me!”

Your breath came in ragged gasps as the figure stepped closer, their features sliding into focus. It was Ethan. His hands were raised in a placating gesture, but his presence was too sudden, too close.

“Ethan…” you breathed, still trying to calm the rapid pounding in your chest. Your eyes swept over him, your mind working through the fog of panic. Ethan was Chad’s roommate, the quiet guy from econ. He seemed harmless. Quiet. Almost forgettable.

He tilted his head, his lips curving into an awkward smile. “Yeah, uh… we have econ together, remember?” His voice sounded normal, but there was something off. Something that didn’t quite fit.

You nodded slowly, but your body remained tense. Something about the way he stood there, just outside the reach of the streetlight, sent a prickling sensation crawling up your spine.

“Sorry,” you muttered, trying to laugh it off, though your voice sounded thin, hollow. “I guess I was… lost in my own world.”

Ethan chuckled softly, but the sound didn’t reach his eyes. He rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze flicking past you to the house, then back to the dark bushes. “Yeah… I called your name a couple of times, but you didn’t hear me.”

His words lingered in the air, thick with something you couldn’t quite place. You glanced at the bushes again, where the noise had come from. They were still now, but the uneasy feeling gnawed at the back of your mind.

And Ethan just stood there, watching you.

You chuckled nervously, glancing at Ethan. “I didn’t see you inside the party. Where were you?”

Ethan blinked, as if caught off guard by the question. “Oh, I actually just got here,” he explained, his voice calm but oddly flat.

You quickly checked your phone—12:45 a.m. It was late, too late to just be arriving. A strange unease curled in your gut. Something about it felt… off. Most people were already wasted by now, or had left.

“You’re a bit late, don’t you think?” you said with a forced laugh, trying to break the awkward silence hanging between you. “Why didn’t you come with Chad?”

There was a pause. Ethan’s eyes flickered, almost imperceptibly, down to your lips before meeting your gaze again. “I had to finish Mr. Smith’s econ assignment. It took longer than I thought,” he said, too quickly. His tone was casual, but there was something in the way he said it that felt rehearsed, like he’d been waiting for you to ask.

Before you could press him about it, he cut you off, his voice light but a little too eager. “So, what are you doing out here all alone?”

“I just needed some air,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. “The alcohol… it’s kind of hitting me.”

Ethan’s eyes stayed locked on you, and you noticed he’d moved closer, almost without you realizing. There was barely a foot between you now, his presence looming, the subtle scent of something you couldn’t place filling the space. “I didn’t really think of you as the drinking type,” he said softly, his voice barely louder than the hum of the distant party. “I never see you at these things.”

He was closer now—too close. You could feel the warmth radiating off him, the way his shadow seemed to stretch longer, darker, in the dim light. You swallowed, your throat dry. “Yeah, it’s not really my scene,” you said with a weak smile, your attempt at humor faltering. “Mindy dragged me here. I think she just wanted to… you know… get laid.”

You forced a laugh, but it felt strange, hollow, like the words were getting caught in the thick tension around you. Ethan didn’t laugh. He just watched you, his eyes gleaming in the faint light from the streetlamp, his lips curling into something that almost looked like a smile—but there was no warmth in it.

“Yeah… I bet she did,” he said, his voice low, almost a murmur, as he tilted his head slightly. The movement was slow, deliberate, like he was studying you. You tried to take a step back, but your back was already against the wall, the cold bricks pressing into your skin through your clothes.

You noticed then how quiet it had gotten. The bass from inside the house was still thumping, but it felt distant, muted, like you were trapped in a bubble, cut off from everything. The air felt heavier now, like it was pressing down on your chest, making it hard to breathe.

Ethan’s gaze lingered on you, his expression unreadable. “Funny how we’ve never really talked before, huh? Not until now.”

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up. There was something unsettling in the way he said it, something that made your pulse quicken, your instincts screaming at you to run. But his body blocked your path, his presence too large, too close. And as he stood there, smiling that strange, empty smile, you realized that despite the noise, the people, the lights—you were completely alone with him.

Ethan's gaze lingered on you, his smile too controlled, too deliberate. “You know,” he continued, his voice low, almost conspiratorial, “I’ve always noticed you in class. You’ve got this… quiet thing going on. It’s kind of mysterious.”

The compliment landed wrong, like a piece of shattered glass, sharp and cutting. You tried to force a smile, but the tension was becoming suffocating. You shifted, desperate to break the eye contact, to shake off the eerie feeling gnawing at your nerves.

“Uh, thanks… I guess?” you mumbled, trying to sound casual. The words felt flimsy, weak, like they were getting lost in the fog of the darkened street.

Ethan stepped closer, his breath warm on your skin now, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. “It’s nice to see you outside of that classroom. I think we’d get along well… outside of school, you know?”

Maybe it was because you both never talked but you didn’t realise how handsome Ethan was. Your face flushed at his words. Your stomach twisted as your pulse quickened.

Before you could respond, the door burst open with a loud creak, and Mindy stumbled out, giggling. “Oh, there you are!” she slurred, her voice way too loud in the eerie quiet. She didn’t notice the tension clinging to the air between you and Ethan.

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere!” she hiccuped, making her way over, nearly tripping over her own feet. “I think I’m ready to go home. You coming?” She leaned heavily on you, the smell of alcohol strong on her breath as she swayed, oblivious to the way Ethan’s expression had shifted, the smile slipping from his face, replaced by something cold and unreadable.

Your heart raced, relief flooding through you as you felt the weight of her body against yours. “Yeah, let’s go,” you said quickly, forcing a smile as you gently peeled yourself away from Ethan’s proximity. “It’s getting late.”

Ethan’s gaze flicked between the two of you, his smile returning but now strained, his eyes darker. “Leaving already?” he asked, his voice casual, but something sharp lurked beneath it. “I thought we were just starting to have fun.”

Mindy snorted, completely unaware of the tension. “Oh please, fun can wait until tomorrow! I’m totally wasted.”

You gave Ethan a tight smile, your heart still pounding. “Yeah, maybe I’ll see you tomorrow,” you echoed, though the last thing you wanted was to see him again.

He didn’t move, didn’t say anything, just watched as you turned away with Mindy. The chill in the air felt sharper now, like icy fingers brushing against your skin. As you walked away, you could feel his eyes boring into your back, the weight of his stare following you down the dark street.

And just before you crossed the threshold of the house, Mindy tugging you inside, you risked one last glance over your shoulder.

Ethan was still standing there, his figure barely visible in the shadows, his smile gone. His eyes gleamed under the streetlamp, locked on you, unblinking, as if he were watching and waiting for something only he knew was coming.

The next morning, you woke up with a pounding headache, the dull throb of a hangover pulsing behind your eyes. The room spun slightly as you blinked into the dim light, trying to piece together fragments of the night before. Mindy was sprawled next to you on the couch, still out cold, her hair a mess, and her phone clutched loosely in her hand. The sound of muffled voices drifted from outside your apartment door, but you were too groggy to make sense of them.

You sat up slowly, rubbing your temples and groaning. The room felt too quiet, too still, after the chaos of the party. For a moment, everything seemed normal, and you almost let yourself forget the creeping sense of dread that had followed you all night.

Just as you were about to lie back down, the door burst open, and Sam, Tara, and Chad hurried in, their faces pale and grim. Tara looked especially shaken, her hands trembling as she pushed her hair out of her face.

“What the hell—” you started, but the words stuck in your throat when you saw their expressions.

Sam, always the calm one, stepped forward, her eyes locking onto yours with a seriousness that sent a chill down your spine. “You heard what happened last night, right?”

You frowned, confused. “What are you talking about?”

Chad closed the door behind them, his face unusually somber. “There was another murder,” he said, his voice low. “Just a block from the party. They found a student—his throat was slashed.”

Your stomach dropped. You glanced at Mindy, who was starting to stir, but her groggy movements felt far away as the weight of Chad’s words settled over you.

“What?” you whispered, feeling the blood drain from your face. “Who—who was it?”

Sam swallowed; her voice carefully controlled. “Noah. From your economics class.”

The world seemed to tilt as the name hit you like a punch to the gut. Noah. You blinked, trying to process what they were telling you. Noah, the funny guy from class, the one you used to crush on. The guy you hadn’t thought about in months, suddenly gone.

You stared at them; your mouth dry. “Noah? But I—” You trailed off, your mind racing. Noah. You’d passed him in the halls, seen him during class, always on the edges of your thoughts but never close enough to matter. And now… now he was dead?

“When?” Mindy mumbled groggily, finally waking up, rubbing her eyes as she sat up. “What’s going on?”

Tara bit her lip, her eyes filled with worry. “Last night. Before we left the party. It happened not far from where you guys were. It could’ve been one of us.”

You shivered, flashes of last night coming back in fragmented images. The party. The alcohol. The darkness outside. And Ethan… standing there under the streetlamp, watching you with that strange, lingering look. But none of you suspected him. Why would you? Ethan was quiet, awkward even. Harmless. You hadn’t even really thought about him when you left the party, your mind too occupied with getting Mindy home and crashing for the night.

You shook your head, trying to clear your thoughts. “I… I didn’t even hear anything,” you stammered. “We were right there.”

Chad crossed his arms, his brow furrowed. “None of us did. It must’ve happened after the party started dying down.”

Sam stepped closer, her expression grim. “You knew him, right? Noah?”

You nodded slowly, your heart heavy with the weight of the name. “Yeah… we had econ together. We weren’t close or anything, but… I used to have a crush on him. A long time ago.”

Tara sighed, her voice soft with sympathy. “I’m so sorry, ____. This is messed up. First the other murders, and now this? What if the killer is still around? What if they’re targeting more people?”

You bit your lip, the knot of fear tightening in your chest. The thought of the killer being that close… of someone hunting students like prey, sent a shiver down your spine. Noah’s face flashed in your mind, and you couldn’t help but wonder—had he been scared? Had he known what was coming?

“I… I need a minute,” you muttered, standing abruptly. Sam reached out as if to stop you, but you pulled away, your thoughts swirling too fast to keep up. “I just need some air, okay?”

Without waiting for a response, you grabbed your bag and slipped out the door. The cool hallway air hit your skin, but it didn’t do much to calm your racing mind. The echoes of the conversation, of another person’s death, followed you down the stairs and into the street. The bustling campus felt distant, as if everything had slowed, the reality of another murder dragging you into a fog of anxiety.

The library was where you ended up, the one place that had always helped you focus. The quiet, the smell of old books, the heavy silence — it usually worked like a balm for your nerves. But not today. You slid into one of the back study booths, pulled out your econ notes, and stared blankly at the words. Your mind was far from the pages in front of you.

The quiet in the library should have been comforting, but it was almost too quiet. The silence was thick, unsettling. Every creak of a chair or shuffle of papers seemed amplified, and you kept glancing up, half-expecting someone to be watching you.

You shook your head, trying to shove the creeping paranoia aside. You had to keep it together, for your sake and for your friends’. With a campus killer still out there, you had to be on guard.

But then, the sound of footsteps broke through the quiet, slow and deliberate, heading in your direction. You looked up, and there, standing just a few feet from your booth, was Ethan.

His expression was cautious, his eyes scanning the empty tables around you before settling on yours. “Hey,” he said, his voice softer than usual, almost too soft for the silence of the library.

Your stomach clenched, the eerie feeling from last night creeping back. You hadn’t seen him at the party after that strange conversation outside, and now here he was, showing up again when you were alone.

“Hey,” you said, forcing a tight smile. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

Ethan shrugged, his hands shoved into his pockets as he shifted on his feet. “Yeah, I’ve been trying to catch up on some work. Thought I’d check in on you, though… I heard about Noah. It's messed up.”

You nodded, swallowing hard as your eyes flicked back to your notes. “Yeah, it is. I can’t believe it.”

He didn’t sit down, but he leaned slightly against the edge of the table, his eyes never leaving you. “Were you guys close?”

You shook your head. “Not really… we had classes together. That’s it.”

Ethan’s face was hard to read, his concern genuine, but there was something off, something that didn’t sit right. Maybe it was just the paranoia creeping in again, but the fact that he was here, now, of all places, unsettled you.

“I mean,” you continued, “it’s just… I don’t know, I’m still trying to wrap my head around it.” You tried to focus on your notes, but his presence made it impossible to concentrate.

“I get it,” Ethan said, his voice barely above a whisper. “It's scary. A lot of people are on edge right now. I guess you were pretty close to where it happened, too.”

Your heart skipped a beat, the memory of last night flashing in your mind — the way Ethan had appeared out of nowhere under the streetlamp. “Yeah… I guess we were.”

He nodded slowly, his gaze a little too intense, lingering on your face. “You sure you’re okay? You look… tense.”

“I’m fine,” you said quickly, the lie slipping out before you could think. “Just a lot to process.”

Ethan frowned, his eyes flicking to your hands, which were gripping your pen a little too tightly. “If you ever need to talk… I’m around.”

You forced another smile. “Thanks, Ethan. I appreciate it.”

But even as the words left your mouth, a part of you screamed to get away. Something was wrong, but you couldn’t quite place it. Maybe it was the fact that Noah had just been murdered, or maybe it was the way Ethan kept showing up, always just on the edge of things.

Before he could say anything else, you packed up your notes. “I should get going,” you said, standing abruptly. “Got a lot of studying to do.”

“Wait,” Ethan said quickly as you turned to leave. “Let me walk you home. I don’t think it’s safe to be out here alone right now.”

You hesitated for a moment, a part of you wanting to refuse out of stubbornness, but the darkness outside felt heavy, and the unease gnawing at your gut pushed you to accept. “Okay,” you replied, trying to sound casual. “That’d be… nice.”

As you stepped out of the library, the chill in the air was sharper than before. You pulled your jacket tighter around you, glancing sideways at Ethan, who fell into step beside you. The shadows from the trees danced eerily in the dim streetlights, and a part of you felt relieved to have him there.

“I can’t believe another student was murdered,” you said, trying to break the silence. “It’s terrifying. I didn’t think it would hit this close to home.”

Ethan nodded, his expression somber. “I know. It’s crazy to think we were all just at that party, and now…” He trailed off, and you could sense the weight of the situation hanging over both of you.

As you walked, you started to relax a little, feeling the tension in your shoulders ease with each step. Ethan smiled faintly. “It’s strange how quickly things can change, isn’t it? One moment, you’re just living your life, and the next, it’s like the ground gets pulled out from under you.”

You glanced at him, surprised by how relatable he was being. “Yeah, exactly. It makes you realize how fragile everything is.”

The two of you walked in silence for a few moments, the only sounds being the distant laughter from the campus and the rustle of leaves in the breeze. It felt oddly comforting to share this moment, and you found yourself more at ease with him than before.

As you approached your apartment building, Ethan turned to you, his expression earnest. “You know, if you ever need someone to walk you home or just… hang out, you can text me. I don’t mind being your personal escort.” He chuckled lightly, and the warmth in his tone made you smile.

“Really?” you asked, surprised by the offer. “You don’t have to do that. I don’t want to put you out or anything.”

Ethan shrugged, his hands still stuffed in his pockets. “It’s not a problem at all. I’d feel better knowing you’re safe. Besides, it gives me an excuse to hang out with you more.”

There was a brief pause, and you could feel your heart flutter slightly at his words. “Okay, I’ll take you up on that. It’s nice to know I have someone to walk with.”

He pulled out his phone and quickly punched in a number, then handed it to you. “Here, just in case. Text me if you need anything. I mean it.”

You took the phone, your fingers brushing against his as you typed in your number. A small thrill coursed through you, but the tension in the back of your mind was still there, whispering caution. “Thanks, Ethan. I appreciate it.”

“Anytime,” he said, a genuine smile spreading across his face. “Just stay safe, alright? I’ll be around.”

You nodded, watching as he walked away, a strange mix of comfort and unease settling in your stomach. The night felt darker now, but somehow less lonely with the thought that you had someone looking out for you. Yet the nagging feeling that something wasn’t quite right lingered in the air, a shadow that refused to be ignored.

As you entered your apartment, you couldn’t shake the feeling that while Ethan might seem harmless, the world outside was anything but. You locked the door behind you and leaned against it, letting out a shaky breath, reminding yourself to stay alert. With a killer still on the loose, it was more important than ever to watch your back.

The silence in your apartment felt heavy as you settled onto the couch, trying to shake off the remnants of the day. Mindy had gone out with Anika, leaving you alone, and while a part of you relished the quiet, another part was restless. The unsettling news about Noah echoed in your mind, refusing to fade into the background.

Just as you reached for the TV remote, your phone buzzed. You glanced at the screen, surprised to see an unknown number. Hesitating for a moment, you answered. “Hello?”

“Hello, ____” a voice purred, low and taunting. Your stomach dropped as you recognized the sinister tone that sent shivers down your spine.

“Who is this?” you demanded, trying to keep your voice steady despite the fear creeping in.

“You don’t know who I am?” the voice teased, dripping with menace. “I just wanted to check in on you. Heard you were scared. Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere. In fact, I’m going to enjoy ripping your skin apart.”

The threat hung in the air like a dark cloud, your heart racing. “You think you can scare me? You’re pathetic,” you shot back, surprising yourself with your own bravado. “How about you actually do something and come get me.”

“Me do something?” the voice on the other end laughed, “I saw you standing there watching that poor girl bleed out. Didn’t really look like you were doing much to help her, hm?”

The hand holding your phone began to shake bringing up the memory. “You fucking asshole.” You swore as your voice shook.

A pause followed, and the voice chuckled softly. “I love it when you play tough. It makes this even more exciting.”

“Show your face you fucking coward!”

Just then, the door to Mindy’s room creaked open, and your heart stopped. Out burst a figure clad in a Ghostface costume, the mask reflecting the dim light of the room, a glint of a knife in hand. Panic surged as you realized that you hadn’t checked that room all day.

Without thinking, you bolted from the couch, instinct taking over as you lunged for the nearest kitchen chair. The figure rushed at you, the blade aimed right for your gut, but you were faster. You swung the chair hard, knocking him off balance. Although he missed your stomach, it didn’t stop the blade from slicing your cheek as he stumbled.

You screamed feeling the blood dripping down your face, adrenaline pushing you to fight back.

The assailant stumbled back, momentarily caught off guard. You seized the opportunity and swung the chair again, this time connecting with his shoulder, making him grunt in surprise.

Despite his height and strength, you were determined. You could see the flash of annoyance beneath the mask, and that fuelled your fight. He lunged again, but you ducked just in time, the blade slicing through the air where you’d just been standing. You grabbed a nearby knife from the counter, holding it defensively in front of you.

The Ghostface figure paused, seeming to weigh his options. Slowly he lifted his voice changer “You’re braver than I thought,” he said, the amusement in his voice clear even through the mask.

He ran cornering you in the kitchen, grabbing your wrist and attempting to twist the knife from your grasp. You fought against his grip, adrenaline surging as you twisted your body and kicked him in the knee. He staggered back, the knife slipping from your hand but not before you landed another blow against his side.

You heard him growl under the mask, but there was a hint of surprise in his voice. You were stronger than he had anticipated.

You quickly glanced around, searching for anything to help you. The phone! You needed to call for help. You darted toward the living room, but he was right on your heels.

With every ounce of determination, you turned to face him again, prepared to fight.

He lunged again, and you barely managed to sidestep, shoving him hard enough to send him crashing to the floor. The knife clattered away, its metallic sound echoing in the silence of the apartment. Your heart raced as you scrambled to grab it, but before you could reach it, you felt a grip around your ankle, yanking you back down to the floor with a brutal thud. The impact knocked the air from your lungs, and you gasped, struggling to catch your breath as you looked over.

Ghostface was rising from the ground, his silhouette dark and menacing. Panic surged through you as you reached for the knife again, your fingertips just grazing its handle. If only you could stretch a little further. But before you could grasp it, a heavy black leather boot crushed down on your hand, eliciting a shriek of agony from your lips. The masked figure loomed over you, his eyes locked onto yours as he snatched the knife from the floor, a glimmer of triumph flashing in the dim light.

He straddled you, pinning your wrists above your head with one hand, leaving you utterly helpless. The ghostly mask was a mere breath away, its hollow eyes boring into your soul. Terror coursed through you, your body writhing beneath him as exhaustion threatened to pull you under.

With a sickening gentleness, he brushed a hand along the open gash on your cheek, spreading the blood across your skin like a twisted artist painting his masterpiece. You cringed, disgust and fear mingling in your gut, as he raised the knife, the blade catching the light and reflecting it back at you in a wicked flash.

Your heart pounded in your chest as he traced the knife down your jawline, then across your chest, the cold steel drawing dangerously close to your heart. Just as he lifted the knife above his head, preparing to plunge it down, a thunderous banging erupted from the front door, drowning the room in chaos. Keys jangled, and frantic voices shouted your name, echoing through the apartment.

Ghostface froze, the knife suspended in the air, his breath coming in sharp, angry huffs as he glanced toward the noise. You could almost feel the anger radiating off him, the momentary distraction breaking his focus. His eyes narrowed as he weighed his options, the dark mask hiding a tempest of rage and frustration beneath.

The eyes of his masks bore into you, a sinister promise lingering in the air that he would return to finish you off. Slowly, he backed away, the blade still glinting ominously in his grasp, leaving you gasping for breath on the floor, the taste of fear lingering on your tongue. You could only watch as he melted into the shadows, knowing he would return.

Before you could respond, he darted towards Mindy’s room, you heard the sound of the killer throwing the window open just as you heard the pounding of footsteps outside your door.

You stood there, heart pounding in your chest, the adrenaline still coursing through your veins. The reality of what just happened crashed down on you, but you weren’t going to let fear consume you. You had fought back, and you were still standing.

As the door burst open and Mindy, Anika, and a couple of campus security officers rushed in, you turned to them still on the ground, shaking but resolute. “Oh my god ____!” Mindy yelled. “Are you alright?”

“Did you really have to leave your window open?” You half joked to her closing your eyes about to pass out from exhaustion.

The night was far from over, but you knew one thing for sure: you weren’t going to let fear control you. You would fight back, no matter the cost.

The next morning, the sunlight barely broke through the curtains, casting a muted glow in your apartment. The events of last night played on a loop in your mind, the terror still fresh as you wrapped yourself in a blanket, sitting on the couch with trembling hands.

A knock on the door startled you, and your heart raced again. Cautiously, you got up and peeked through the peephole. Relief washed over you when you saw Ethan standing there, a box of donuts in his hands, looking slightly dishevelled but earnest.

Taking a deep breath, you opened the door. “Hey,” you greeted, trying to mask your unease with a half-smile.

“Hey! I brought you some donuts,” he said, lifting the box in a gesture of goodwill. “Thought you might need some comfort food after… everything.”

You stepped aside to let him in, the warmth of his presence both comforting and disquieting. As he settled on the kitchen island, you could feel the tension still lingering in the air between you. Ethan opened the box, revealing an array of sugary treats. “I figured these would help brighten your day,” he said, trying to sound cheerful.

“Thanks,” you replied, grabbing a donut but not really feeling like eating. “It’s really sweet of you.”

He took a bite of a donut, flashing a smile, but the moment felt strained. You could sense his concern, but all you could think about was the adrenaline and fear still coursing through your veins from last night. Finally, the unease bubbled to the surface, and you cut through the pleasantries. “Where were you last night, Ethan?”

His expression changed instantly, the warmth in his eyes replaced by something unreadable. “What do you mean?” he asked, brow furrowing slightly.

“I just… I didn’t see you. I thought maybe you were around,” you said, your voice trembling a little, unsure of where this was heading.

A shadow passed over his face, and he leaned back slightly, folding his arms across his chest. “You don’t think it was me that attacked you, do you?”

The question hung in the air, thick and suffocating. You could feel your heart race again, the way he said it made you question everything. “I—” you stammered, but the thought had already taken root in your mind. You couldn’t help but make note of Ethan next to the kitchen knives.

“I mean, I was just worried about you,” he continued, his voice steady but his eyes betraying a hint of defensiveness. “I didn’t know what was happening until Chad called me.”

“Right, but…” you hesitated, searching his face for any signs of deceit. “You know I was attacked, and it just feels… strange that you’re here right after it happened.”

Ethan’s expression hardened, the playful demeanour falling away completely. “Strange? Because I care about you?” His tone had shifted, and the tension in the room was palpable, wrapping around you like a rope.

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his words and the implications behind them. “I just… I don’t know who to trust right now,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Ethan held your gaze, his eyes piercing as if trying to gauge your sincerity. “I would never hurt you,” he said firmly, the conviction in his voice sending chills down your spine. “You know that, right?”

You wanted to believe him, but the events of last night played back in your mind, and the uncertainty clawed at your insides. “It’s just hard to feel safe,” you replied, dropping your gaze to the floor, the donuts forgotten between you.

He reached out, placing a hand on your knee, and you flinched at the sudden contact, your body still on high alert. “I get it. I do. But I’m here for you, and I promise I’ll help you feel safe,” he said, the earnestness returning to his voice.

As you looked up at him, the doubt still lingered, swirling in the back of your mind. You wanted to trust him, but fear was a powerful force, twisting your thoughts and making you question everything, even the intentions of those closest to you.

Ethan's gaze softened as he searched your eyes, the tension in the room slowly ebbing. “Look, I know this is a lot to take in,” he began, his voice low and steady. “But there’s something I need to tell you. Something I’ve wanted to say for a long time.”

Your heart raced, anticipation and fear swirling within you. “What is it?” you asked, your breath hitching slightly.

He hesitated for a moment, as if weighing his words carefully. “I’ve always liked you,” he confessed, his tone sincere. “Since the first time we met in class, I thought you were amazing. Smart, funny... just… you.”

The admission caught you off guard, a rush of emotions flooding through you. “Ethan, I—” you started, but he quickly cut you off.

“Please, let me finish,” he urged, his intensity making you feel exposed and vulnerable. “When I heard about what happened, I couldn’t just sit back and do nothing. I was scared, and I realized how much I care about you. I didn’t want to admit it before, but now… with everything happening, it feels wrong not to.”

Your mind raced as his words hung in the air. You’d always found Ethan intriguing, his easy charm and confidence drawing you in. But now, faced with the reality of the threat that loomed over you, emotions were tangled in a chaotic mess.

“I appreciate you saying that,” you replied, your voice trembling. “But right now, I’m just trying to process everything. It’s hard to think about… feelings when I’m just trying to stay alive.”

“I get that,” he said, his expression shifting to one of understanding. “But I want to help you. If it means being there for you, then that’s what I’ll do. I’m not just saying this because of what happened last night; I genuinely want to be part of your life.”

You felt your defences waver as you looked into his eyes, seeing a sincerity that calmed some of the fear gripping you. “And what if it was you?” you asked quietly, still grappling with your thoughts. “What if you’re just saying this now to—”

“Shh,” he interrupted softly, reaching out to gently take your hand in his. “I promise you, it wasn’t me. I couldn’t hurt you, not now, not ever. Please believe that.” His grip was firm, a grounding force amidst the chaos in your mind.

As the weight of his words settled, you found a flicker of comfort in his touch. “I want to believe you, Ethan. It’s just… everything feels so twisted right now. I need time.”

“Take all the time you need,” he assured, his thumb brushing over your knuckles soothingly. “But I’ll be here. Whenever you need someone to talk to, or even if you just want company, I’ll be here.”

You nodded slowly, grateful for his support but still wary. The confession lingered between you, adding complexity to your relationship in a time of crisis. “Thanks for the donuts, by the way,” you said, trying to lighten the mood. “They might be exactly what I need right now.”

A small smile broke through his serious facade. “Just trying to make sure you’re taken care of,” he replied, his voice warmer now.

You both shared a brief laugh, the tension in the air easing slightly, but beneath it all, the fear remained—a reminder that danger still lurked outside your door. As you sat there, hand in hand, you knew that while you were still scared, you had someone willing to stand by you through the darkness.

As the silence stretched between you, the air thick with unspoken emotions, you both locked eyes, a magnetic pull drawing you closer. Ethan’s gaze flickered over your face, pausing at your lips, and for a moment, time seemed to freeze.

Without thinking, you both lunged toward each other, colliding in a rush of warmth and urgency. The kiss was electric, igniting a spark that sent a thrill coursing through you. You could taste the sweetness of the donuts on his lips, mingling with the desperation of the moment. His hands found your waist, pulling you closer, deepening the connection as your bodies pressed together.

You melted into him, the chaos of the night before fading into the background. This was a moment of escape, a breath of fresh air amidst the horror. His lips moved against yours with a passion that sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach. It felt as though everything around you had vanished, leaving only the two of you in this intimate bubble.

Ethan pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours, breaths mingling in the shared space between you. “Wow,” he whispered, a mix of surprise and delight dancing in his eyes. “I didn’t expect that.”

“Neither did I,” you admitted, your heart racing. The heat of the kiss lingered on your lips, and you couldn’t help but smile. “But it felt… right.”

“Yeah, it really did.” He searched your face, his expression earnest. “I just want you to know, whatever happens next, I’m here for you. Not just because of… everything going on, but because I want to be.”

You nodded, feeling a rush of affection for him. “I appreciate that, Ethan. I really do.” The weight of his words wrapped around you like a warm blanket, and you felt a sense of safety in his presence.

Before you could say more, the sound of footsteps echoed from the hallway, breaking the moment. Your heart sank slightly, the reality of the situation crashing back in. “I think Mindy and Anika are back,” you said, glancing toward the door.

Ethan nodded, the momentary intimacy still hanging in the air as he pulled back, his hands reluctantly leaving your waist. “Let’s talk more later?” he suggested, a hopeful smile on his face.

“Definitely,” you replied, feeling a rush of warmth. You could sense that this was just the beginning, and despite the lingering fear, a spark of hope flickered in your chest.

Just then, the door swung open, and Mindy entered, her face a mix of concern and relief. “Hey, you two! I hope we’re not interrupting anything too serious…” She trailed off, a teasing smile forming as she glanced between you and Ethan.

You exchanged a quick, sheepish look with Ethan, the reality of the moment settling in. “Just… talking,” you said, trying to play it cool.

Mindy raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced but willing to let it slide. “Well, good. Because we need to figure out what our next steps are. We can’t let that creep get away with what he did.”

Ethan nodded, his demeanour shifting back to seriousness. “Absolutely. We need to come up with a plan to keep everyone safe.”

As you shifted back to the reality of the situation, you couldn’t shake the warmth of the kiss and the promise of what was to come. You were still scared, but you weren’t alone anymore.

You gathered in the living room, the atmosphere tense but charged with a newfound determination. Ethan leaned against the wall, his arms crossed, while Mindy paced in front of the group, her eyes alight with purpose. Sam and Tara exchanged anxious glances, while Chad fiddled nervously with his phone. Sam stood at the center, ready to take charge.

“Okay, listen up,” Sam said, raising her voice to draw everyone’s attention. “We need a plan. We can’t let Ghostface get to any of us again.”

You nodded, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on you. “If we stick together, we have a better chance of trapping him. We can’t let him pick us off one by one.”

Chad nodded eagerly. “Yeah, if we can lure him out somehow, we can catch him off guard. I mean, he’s just a person, right? We can take him. Sam found a place we can use as a base. It’s an old house out in the woods. We can fortify it and use it as a safe zone.”

Ethan straightened; his expression serious. Mindy raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “An occupied home? You’re sure it’s safe?”

Sam nodded. “I did some research. It’s been vacant for a while, and it’s far enough away from campus that we can keep a low profile. We can set up defenses and make a plan to draw Ghostface in.”

Tara chimed in, her voice steady. “I like it. We can set up cameras, make sure we know when he’s around. We can create distractions if he tries to sneak up on us.”

You felt a flicker of hope as the group rallied around the idea. Everyone was on board, and for the first time since the attack, you felt a sense of unity. You exchanged a glance with Ethan, and he gave you a reassuring nod.

“Let’s gather what we need,” Sam continued, her voice firm. “We’ll head to the house, set up defenses, and then we can discuss how we want to draw him out. This ends tonight.”

As the group began to disperse, you felt a rush of adrenaline. The fear was still there, lurking just beneath the surface, but with your friends by your side, you felt like you could face anything.

“Hey,” Ethan said, catching your arm before you left the room. “Are you okay? I mean… after everything.”

You smiled softly, grateful for his concern. “I’m hanging in there. But I’ll be better once we put a stop to this.”

He grinned, the tension easing between you. “Good. We’ll figure this out together.”

As the others gathered supplies and made plans, you felt a mix of anxiety and determination. This was your chance to take control, to reclaim your life and confront the horror that had invaded your world.

Later that evening, you all piled into a couple of cars, the air thick with a sense of urgency. As you drove away from campus, the shadows of the trees loomed ominously, but you felt a spark of hope lighting the way. You were no longer just running scared — you were ready to fight back.

When you finally arrived at the house, its dark silhouette against the night sky sent a chill down your spine. But you reminded yourself of the goal. Inside, you would find a way to take down Ghostface once and for all.

As you stepped inside, the creaky floorboards groaned beneath your feet, and you shared a nervous glance with the group. This was it. Time to prepare. Time to take a stand.

The atmosphere inside the old house was tense as you all set up makeshift defences. Knives were scattered across surfaces, each of you staying close to one another, forming a protective circle. The flickering lights cast unsettling shadows on the walls, heightening the feeling of unease.

As you went through your makeshift plans, Mindy suddenly paused, her eyes narrowing. “Did anyone else hear that?” she asked, her voice low and cautious.

Everyone fell silent, straining to listen. The faint creak of the floorboards echoed from the other side of the house, sending a shiver down your spine. Sam exchanged worried glances with the group, her brows furrowed in concern. “We need to split up and check it out,” she decided, though you could hear the reluctance in her tone.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Tara interjected; her voice tinged with anxiety. “What if it’s Ghostface?”

“We’ll be careful,” Sam reassured, her voice steady. “We can cover more ground this way. Just keep your phones on and stay in contact.”

Reluctantly, you all agreed. You formed smaller groups to search the house, your heart racing as you and Ethan ended up together, the two of you making your way to a secluded area of the building that seemed to grow darker with each step.

“Great,” you muttered, trying to shake off the unease. “Just the two of us in the creepy part of the house.”

Ethan smiled slightly, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “At least we have knives,” he said, gesturing to the weapon in your hand. But as you glanced at him, his demeanor shifted. The playfulness faded, replaced by something darker.

“So… who do you think Ghostface is?” he asked, his voice low and almost conspiratorial. “I mean, do you have any suspects?”

You felt a chill run down your spine. His gaze was intense, studying you as if trying to gauge your reaction. “I don’t know,” you replied, trying to keep your tone light. “Could be anyone, right?”

Ethan stepped closer, invading your personal space, and the mood shifted again. “But what if it’s someone we know?” His eyes locked onto yours, and you could see a hint of something unsettling in them. “What if it’s someone we trust?”

You shifted uncomfortably, the walls of the secluded area feeling like they were closing in on you. “Ethan, this isn’t really the time for this kind of talk,” you said, your heart racing.

He didn’t step back, though; instead, he leaned in a little closer. “I just want to make sure you’re safe, you know? There’s a lot at stake here. I mean, do you really think any of us are safe?”

His words hung heavy in the air, and you took a step back, trying to maintain your composure. “I think we’ll be fine as long as we stick together. That’s what we agreed on.”

He tilted his head slightly, a strange smile curling on his lips. “Together, sure. But what if we’re not safe even in a group? What if Ghostface is just waiting for the right moment to pick us off?”

You felt the knot in your stomach tighten. “I don’t want to think about that, Ethan. We need to stay focused on finding him.”

Ethan chuckled softly, but there was an edge to it, a hint of something menacing lurking beneath the surface. “You’re right. Focus is key. But just remember…” He leaned in a bit closer, lowering his voice. “Trust can be a dangerous game.”

Before you could respond, a loud crash echoed through the house, followed by frantic shouts from the others. Panic surged through you as adrenaline spiked, drowning out Ethan’s unsettling presence.

“Ethan, we need to go!” you urged, moving toward the sound of your friends’ voices. But he hesitated, his eyes flickering with something unreadable.

“Are you sure you want to?” he asked, a hint of challenge in his tone.

You didn’t have time for this. “Yes! Come on!” you shouted, your heart racing as you bolted toward the noise, the weight of uncertainty and dread settling heavily in your chest. You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was very wrong, and you needed to get back to the others before it was too late.

Ethan’s hand clasped around yours as you both sprinted toward the sounds of your friends, the adrenaline pumping through your veins. Each footstep echoed in the dimly lit halls, your heart racing with a mix of fear and determination.

“What did you hear?” you asked breathlessly, glancing back at him as you approached the living room where the others had gathered.

Chad looked up, his expression tense. “It sounded like something fell over. But now it’s… silent.”

You exchanged worried glances with Sam, Mindy, and Tara. “Shouldn’t we check it out?” you asked, a sense of foreboding creeping into your thoughts.

Ethan and Chad nodded at each other, an unspoken agreement passing between them. “We’ll go check the basement,” Ethan said, determination etched on his face. “You girls stay here. Just keep an eye out.”

As the two of them headed toward the basement door, you felt a mix of relief and anxiety wash over you. You turned to the girls, trying to focus on the task at hand. “Okay, we need to come up with a plan in case Ghostface shows up again.”

But just as you began to strategize, the sudden shrill ring of a phone cut through the stillness of the house, causing everyone to jump. You instinctively checked your pockets, and a sinking feeling filled your stomach when you realized it was your phone ringing.

“Oh no,” you whispered, the colour draining from your face as the familiar number flashed on the screen—an unknown caller.

“Don’t answer it!” Tara urged, but your hand moved almost instinctively to accept the call, your curiosity mingling with dread.

“Hello?” you managed, your voice shaky.

A chilling laugh echoed through the speaker, and you felt your blood run cold. “Poor ____,” Ghostface taunted, his voice dripping with malice. “I bet you think you’re really smart, thinking you and your friends can outsmart me.”

The tension in the room grew thick as Sam mouthed to you to keep him talking. The other girls glanced nervously around the room, ready to react at the slightest indication of danger.

“Why are you calling me?” you said, trying to sound braver than you felt. “What do you want?”

“Want?” he echoed mockingly. “I want you to feel that delicious thrill of fear. You should be grateful; I’m giving you a front-row seat to your own demise.”

Panic surged through you, but you forced yourself to remain calm. “You won’t get away with this,” you said, attempting to sound strong. “We’re going to stop you.”

“Is that so?” he said, his voice low and menacing. “And how exactly do you plan to do that? Your little friends are scattered, and soon they won’t know what hit them. You’re all alone now.”

Your heart raced as you took a step back, feeling trapped in this conversation. The thought of being alone in this vast, dark house made your skin crawl. “You’re wrong. I’m not alone. My friends are here, and they’ll come for me.”

“Come for you?” he laughed, a chilling sound that echoed through the line. “By the time they realize what’s really happening, it’ll be too late. They’re too busy playing their little games.”

As his words sunk in, your grip on the phone tightened. “What do you mean?” you asked, forcing yourself to stay engaged, though every instinct told you to hang up and run.

“Just that… your little heroes in the basement might find something they weren’t expecting. It’s always the last place you look, isn’t it?”

Your breath hitched at his words, realization dawning. You had to warn Ethan and Chad. “What did you do?” you demanded, feeling a mix of anger and fear bubbling within you.

“Let’s just say, your friends are in for a surprise. Tick tock, ____.”

You stared at the phone in shock, your heart racing, the ringing in your ears mingling with the chilling echo of Ghostface’s laughter still haunting you. “No… no…” you whispered, dread coiling tightly around your chest as the weight of panic settled in like a dark fog.

“What did he say?” Tara urged, stepping closer, her eyes wide with concern and fear.

“He’s messing with Ethan and Chad. We have to find them now!” you cried, urgency flooding your voice as you turned toward the basement door, dread gnawing at your gut.

“No, ____! You have to stay here and keep him talking,” Sam insisted, her voice sharp and firm, cutting through your panic.

You shook your head, the thought of having to endure another second of his taunts twisting like a knife in your heart. “I can’t—”

“Yes, you can!” Mindy said, gripping your shoulders tightly, her gaze steady yet filled with urgency. “We’ll go check the basement. We have to make sure they’re safe.”

The tears you’d been holding back slipped down your cheeks, and you nodded reluctantly, understanding the weight of their decision. The thought of being alone, trapped in the dark, sent shivers down your spine, but the fear for Ethan and Chad pushed you to comply.

All three of them shared a final, encouraging look before rushing down the basement stairs, their voices echoing as they called out for Chad and Ethan. Your heart raced as you watched them disappear, the basement door swinging wide open—a sliver of safety in the enveloping darkness.

Now you were alone in the decaying house, the silence swallowing you whole, only the distant laughter of Ghostface echoing in your mind.

Taking a shaky breath, you steadied yourself and held the phone tightly, the weight of the ghostly presence looming over you. You needed to keep him engaged, to buy your friends time, but the thought of his voice on the line sent chills crawling up your spine.

“Hello?” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, trembling with fear.

“Poor ____,” he crooned, the mockery in his tone sending a shiver of revulsion through you. “All alone now? Your precious friends can’t help you anymore.”

A surge of anger ignited within you, forcing you to push through the terror. “What do you want?” you spat, your voice trembling but fierce.

“I want you to feel that delicious thrill of fear, the kind that makes your heart race and your blood run cold. You’re all so naïve, thinking you can outsmart me.” His laughter bubbled through the line, sinister and echoing.

“I’m not afraid of you,” you lied, trying to mask the tremor in your voice, gripping the phone so tightly your knuckles turned white.

“Is that so?” he teased, a dark amusement lurking in his words. “I can hear it in your voice. Your heart is pounding, and soon it will be pounding even faster.”

The oppressive silence of the house pressed in on you, each creak of the floorboards amplifying your dread. You could almost feel his presence lurking in the shadows, waiting, watching. You scanned all around the room listening for any noise.

“Where are they?” you demanded, forcing yourself to sound braver. “What have you done?”

“Where are they?” he echoed, mockingly. “Maybe they’re just playing hide and seek. Or maybe they’ve found a new game… one that ends with a little more blood.”

Your breath caught in your throat as the realization washed over you. “You won’t get away with this,” you hissed, desperation creeping into your words.

“Get away?” he laughed, the sound echoing around you like a haunting melody. “Oh, darling, I’m just getting started.”

As his mocking words echoed in your ears, the sudden sound of the basement door slamming shut jolted you into a state of pure terror. “No!” you screamed, instinctively moving toward the now locked door, panic surging through your veins. You pounded your fists against it, desperate to break it down.

“Take a step closer and I’ll kill them all,” Ghostface hissed, his voice cold and menacing.

“Please, don’t!” you pleaded, fear clawing at your throat. The realization of your friends being in danger wrapped around you like a snake, squeezing the air from your lungs.

He continued to taunt you, relishing in your desperation. “They’re so busy playing their little games, they won’t even know what hit them. You should have stayed quiet, ____.”

Each word dripped with malice, but as the panic began to simmer, a seething anger replaced your fear. “I swear to God I’ll kill you myself, you piece of shit!” you shouted, your voice filled with raw defiance.

In that moment, the door behind you swung open, and before you could react, Ghostface lunged forward, wrapping his arms around you. He lifted you effortlessly, pulling you away from the door, his grip like iron.

You struggled violently, twisting and turning, trying to break free from his grasp. “Let go of me!” you screamed, kicking and thrashing, but he held you tight, a sickening grin hidden beneath the mask.

Then you heard the unmistakable sound of a blade being drawn, the metal whispering against the air, much larger than the knives you and your friends had brought. Your heart raced as he moved the knife toward your chest, the cold steel glinting ominously in the dim light.

Summoning every ounce of strength and adrenaline you could muster, you grabbed his wrist with both hands, forcing it away from your body. The blade grazed your skin, but you pushed with all your might, breaking his hold for just a moment.

In a last desperate attempt, you threw your head back, feeling the satisfying crunch of your skull meeting his face. He let out a surprised grunt and dropped you, the sudden release sending you tumbling to the floor.

You didn’t hesitate. You scrambled to your feet and bolted for the open door, adrenaline pumping through your veins as you raced down the hallway, heart pounding like a war drum in your chest.

You glanced back just in time to see Ghostface regaining his composure, fury etched into his movements as he lunged after you. The mask hid his expression, but you could feel the rage emanating from him like a dark cloud, fuelling your determination to escape.

You sprinted through the narrow corridors of the decaying house, fear pushing you forward as you sought an exit, a way to warn your friends, to regroup. The walls seemed to close in around you, shadows shifting and whispering, but you focused on the way ahead.

You could hear him gaining on you, the sound of his heavy boots thudding against the floor reverberating in your ears.

You were glancing around for any sign of your friends. The air felt thick with tension, and every shadow seemed to stretch ominously. “Sam! Mindy! Tara!” you shouted, your voice echoing as you scanned the room for any familiar faces.

There was no answer, just the haunting silence of the empty house. Panic surged anew as you realized you might be all alone against him, but you couldn’t let fear take control. You had to find a weapon, something to defend yourself with.

Spotting a heavy lamp in the corner, you dashed toward it. As you were about to grab it Ghostface busted to the room. The mask reflected the dim light, a twisted visage of intent and malice.

Instead of rushing toward you, Ghostface stood still, the blade hanging loosely at his side as he stared at you with a twisted tilt of his head. The silence stretched between you, the only sound being the frantic rhythm of your own breathing. Every instinct screamed for you to run, but the terror of the moment froze you in place, your heart pounding in your chest as acceptance of your fate slowly crept in.

Tears streamed down your cheeks, blurring your vision. “Who are you?” you managed to choke out, your voice trembling as you stared into the void of the mask, trying to find any sign of humanity within.

After what felt like an eternity, he slowly reached for the mask, pulling it back to reveal his face. Your heart plummeted as you focused on the boyish charm and familiar brown locks of hair. The realization hit you like a punch to the gut. It was Ethan Landry all along. The biggest grin you’d ever seen spread across his face, a twisted mix of joy and madness.

“Ethan?” you whispered, your voice barely audible, disbelief coursing through you.

“You know, ____ You should really know when to trust your instincts,” he said, a dark smirk playing on his lips. “Like sometimes I wasn’t even trying to hide it!”

You felt like you were going to be sick. You couldn’t bare to look at him. His words sent a shiver down your spine as the truth settled over you like a suffocating blanket. “You… you were in on this?” You felt the bile rise in your throat, anger mixing with confusion. “All this time, you were playing us? With me?”

Ethan stepped closer, the playful grin still plastered across his face, but the glint in his eyes was anything but friendly. “Oh, it was so easy.” He gestured around the room, the knife gleaming in his hand. “The trust you all had in me, it made this so much more fun. You have no idea how satisfying it is to watch you scramble for answers, to see you run in circles while I orchestrated everything from the shadows.”

“You killed people, Ethan. Innocent people. Why?” you gasped, your voice trembling with a mix of horror and disbelief.

Ethan sneered at you, his expression morphing into something darker. “Why did I do all this?” He chuckled softly, the sound devoid of any real humor. “Maybe I don’t have a reason. Maybe I’m just a psychopath who wanted to slash the necks of anyone who crossed my path. Maybe I have some fucked-up childhood that twisted me into this.” Continuing his rant, the air thick with tension. He finally paused taking a large step towards me pointing his knife at me.

“Or maybe it’s because the girl I loved for two years never took the time to know anything about me but my fucking name.”

His words struck you like a physical blow, your heart sinking at the weight of his confession. Ethan liked you all these years and never told you. Confusion and betrayal flooded your mind as you furrowed your brows, struggling to process the revelation. “But you never said anything” you stated, your voice shaking.

He took a step closer, the knife gleaming menacingly in his hand. All he had to do was reach out and the knife could easy bury into your stomach. “I always had a thing for you _____. So pretty and naïve. You were so busy with your perfect little life, your perfect little friends, that you never noticed me. I was always there, lurking in the background, waiting for my chance.” The anger in his voice was palpable, each word laced with bitterness. “And when I realized how easy it was to manipulate you all, I couldn’t resist. It was a rush like no other.”

Your heart raced as you processed his twisted proposal, his words wrapping around your mind like a noose. “So what are you going to do? Kill everyone?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady despite the fear creeping into your chest.

Ethan sneered at you, his expression darkening. “Not everyone, princess,” he replied, his voice low and menacing. He traced the blade of his knife across the stitches on your cheek, the sharp metal sending a chill down your spine. “See, I’ve always loved you, and I can feel you like me too. Don’t try to deny it, ____.”

You flinched at his touch, the intimacy of the gesture feeling like a betrayal to your own senses. “You’re insane!” you gasped, trying to pull away from him, but he held you firmly in place.

“If you come with me, nobody has to die,” he continued, his tone shifting, becoming almost persuasive. “We can go somewhere far away. Just me and you.” His hands cupped your cheeks, brushing away your tears with a gentleness that felt horrifyingly out of place. “I can give you a perfect life. Just say yes.”

A surge of revulsion coursed through you, mixing with the grief and confusion swirling in your heart. “A perfect life?” you echoed, incredulity spilling from your lips. “You think this is love? You think dragging me into your madness is the answer?”

He leaned closer, his breath hot against your skin, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that made you want to look away. “It doesn’t have to be this way, ____,” he whispered, a trace of desperation lacing his words. “I can protect you from everyone who’s ever hurt you. All I need is your trust.”

You felt your heart hammering against your ribcage, the gravity of his words weighing heavily on you. “Trust?” you replied, incredulous. “You’ve murdered people, Ethan! How could I ever trust you?”

A flicker of anger crossed his face, but it quickly transformed into something more sorrowful. “You don’t understand. You never have. I did this for us! To show you what true passion looks like, to free us from the shackles of normalcy.” He brushed your tears away with his thumb, and you recoiled at his touch. “Can’t you see? We’re meant to be together!”

Your mind raced, desperately searching for a way out of this nightmare. “This isn’t love! This is obsession!” you shouted, your voice trembling with emotion. “You’re deluding yourself if you think I could ever be with someone who does this!”

His expression hardened, the mask of charm slipping away, revealing the raw intensity of his twisted mind. “You’ll see. You’re just scared now, but once you’re free of those pathetic friends, you’ll understand.” He stepped back, holding the knife threateningly. “Say yes, and we can escape this together.”

You felt the weight of the knife’s threat looming over you, and a part of you wanted to cry, to scream. But another part of you—deep down—was ignited with a fierce resolve.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you nodded, forcing a shaky smile in response to his expectant gaze. Ethan’s smile widened, a spark of excitement igniting in his eyes as he took a breath, his enthusiasm palpable. He brushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. “I need to hear you say it back. Say you love me.”

With as much sincerity as you could muster, you forced the words out, “I love you, Ethan.”

You watched as his eyes glistened, emotion swelling within him. “I’ll take care of you,” he whispered, his voice tender, almost vulnerable.

Without warning, he pressed his lips against yours, and you felt a wave of nausea rise in your throat. Fighting every instinct to push him away, you placed one hand gently on his chest, trying to connect despite the revulsion gnawing at your insides. The moment stretching out as you struggled to accept the twisted affection he was offering. As he deepened the kiss, your other hand snaked around your back.

When he finally pulled away, his cheeks were flushed with a mix of excitement and something darker. “Time to go,” he said, his expression a blend of eagerness and anticipation.

You nodded slowly, your heart racing. “Yes, time to go,” you repeated, hoping to buy yourself a moment longer.

Before he could react, adrenaline surged through you. In one swift motion, you grabbed the heavy lamp beside you and slammed it into the side of his head. The loud crash of glass echoed through the room, accompanied by Ethan’s startled yell, jolting your body into action.

He fell to the floor, agony etched across his face, momentarily stunned. Without hesitation, you yanked the knife from his weakened grasp, the cold steel feeling heavy in your hand. Channelling your rage and fear, you straddled him, pinning him down as you watched his face covered in deep red blood and glass shards.

Ethan’s eyes, once filled with twisted affection, now reflected shock and confusion as he realized the tables had turned. This time you were on top of him, and he was below you. As he opened his mouth to speak, you didn’t give him the chance. With a fierce resolve, you plunged the knife down into the center of his chest, feeling the resistance of flesh and bone.

His breath caught in his throat, a strangled gasp escaping his lips as he stared up at you in disbelief. You could see the flicker of life dimming in his eyes, the realization of his fate settling in. In that moment, the weight of your actions bore down on you, a mix of horror and relief flooding your senses. You had fought back, and you wouldn’t let him take you down with him. As his body went limp beneath you, you felt a surge of strength, knowing you did it. You had survived. It was over.

As you caught your breath you stared down at Ethan. A very charming young man who maybe you could have seen being with. Swallowing you brushed his curls away from his face. Why you did this, you do not know.

Before you could do anything else you heard the sound of the basement door being bashed open. Breaking from your thoughts, you jumped up and ran to the door, your heart racing as the panic-laden voices of your friends flooded your ears.

“____!” Mindy yelled, urgency threading through her words. “It is Ethan! He stabbed Chad, but he’s going to be okay!”

“Relax!” you told everyone, your exhaustion weighing heavily on you. “He’s gone. He’s in that room.”

Sam nodded, determination etched on her face as she made her way toward the room where Ethan lay. Mindy and Tara rushed to surround you, enveloping you in a tight hug.

“Are you okay?” Tara asked, her voice trembling slightly.

“Yes,” you replied, the relief washing over you like a soothing wave. “Now that everything is over.”

Suddenly, you heard Sam’s voice ringing out, filled with confusion and urgency. “____, there’s no one here!”

Time seemed to freeze as an icy chill gripped your veins. You immediately raised yourself up and sprinted to the room where you had left him. The sight that greeted you made your heart plummet. What should have been the aftermath of a struggle was now nothing more than a splatter of blood and shattered glass on the floor.

Your stomach churned, but instead of panic, a weary sigh escaped your lips as you lowered your shoulders, your mind racing with disbelief. “He won’t be back,” you told Sam, trying to project strength even as doubt crept in.

“Are you sure?” Sam asked, her brow furrowed in concern.

“Yes, not when I’m here,” you asserted, conviction igniting a flame within you. With that, you turned and walked out of the building, leaving behind the remnants of the nightmare that had just unfolded.

Outside, the cold night air filled your lungs, and you took a moment to ground yourself, closing your eyes and letting the world come back into focus. Mindy and Tara walked beside you, their hands clasped tightly, a silent support system as you processed the chaos that had just occurred.

“We need to get Chad to the hospital,” Mindy said, glancing at you with a mix of concern and determination.

“Right,” you replied, your voice steadying. “Let’s do that.”

As you made your way to the car, the adrenaline still coursing through your veins, you felt a weight lifting off your shoulders. You had fought back. You had survived. But the echoes of the night would linger in your mind for a long time.

As everyone jumped into the car, you felt an unsettling rumble echoing behind you, sending a shiver down your spine. The sound crept through the night air, emerging from the dense shadows of the bushes nearby. Heart pounding, you turned to stare into the darkness, instinctively holding your breath as dread clawed at your throat.

Mindy, her voice laced with concern, broke the tense silence. “_____, is everything okay?”

You paused, your heart racing in your chest, the rumbling growing louder, thrumming like a heartbeat in the stillness of the night. The shadows seemed to writhe, and for a moment, it felt as if they were alive, watching, waiting. The panic surged within you, threatening to spill over as uncertainty filled the air.

Drawing in a shaky breath, you forced yourself to turn away from the darkness. “Yes,” you stated, though the tremor in your voice betrayed your facade. You mustered a small smile, one that felt more like a mask than genuine reassurance and slipped into the car.

In the car, as you sped toward the hospital, you looked at your friends, their faces illuminated by the dashboard lights. You felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude wash over you, and in that moment, you realized that despite the darkness that had nearly consumed you, you made it out.

Freedom, you whispered in your mind, a desperate prayer more than a thought. But deep down, your pulse quickened, knowing the truth—he would come back. He always did. His presence lingered in every shadow, a predator waiting, watching. No matter how far you ran, how many locks you turned, he was out there.

But this time, you would be ready—and he would regret ever coming back.

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