Ethan Landry Oneshots

Competition*

contains:  switch!ethan, switch!reader, fem!reader, degradation, breeding kink, unprotected sex
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Ethan groans, “taking my cock so fucking well, angel.” His hands are gripping your shoulders, leveraging himself so he can fuck you harder. You whimper underneath him as his cock abuses your insides. His eyes are fixed on your bed frame, blankly grinning at the white metal structure. “Tearing you apart, aren’t I?”

He clamps his hand over your mouth, cutting off your reply. “Come on, bitch,” he growls, “gonna let me finish inside you?”

Your eyes widen and you nod. You loved playing this game. Daring each other to go further, guessing what was bullshit or not was a more exciting exercise than you cared to admit.

His fingers desperately push into your mouth, forcing it open to capture you in a hurried kiss. You’re both intense and your hands eagerly press into each other, more focused on covering every inch of each other’s skin than the quality of the touches.

When he finally lifts himself off you, you’re left panting with pulsing lips. He takes advantage of your mouth staying open and spits inside the open hole. His grin sizes down to a smirk, the energy behind it no less menacing. He snickers as he pats your cheek. “Good girl.”

His pace quickens. You smile, hoping to win best actress for your role underneath him. You let out a pornographic moan, almost wanting to laugh at Ethan’s grunt. He was more complicated than you ever could’ve guessed, but he still had the same predictable buttons as any other college guy.

“You want to finish inside me? Breed me?”

“Fuck yes, Jesus fucking Christ please—“
gainst his torso. It’s obvious he’s letting you, his parted mouth showing you he wants exactly what you’re suggesting.

“Then get on your fucking back,” you whisper.

You press against him but it’s not necessary. You blink and he’s breathing raggedly underneath you, marking the grey sheets with his sweat.

You eagerly bounce up and down the length of his cock, grinning proudly at the man underneath you. Your hand captures his face, your thumb and index finger pushing firmly into both cheeks. “You want to fuck your cum out of me? Out of my pussy? Let it coat your whole cock?”

He whines. His face is so cute when he pouts. His cheeks are pinker than before, a different flush than what’s across his whole body from exerting so much energy on you. His head is lolled to the side in an effort to hide his admit of defeat.

“Got to look at me, baby. Can’t do that to a girl and not fucking look at her.”

He obediently follows your command. His fingers circle your clit and you feel his cock twitch as your eyes roll back. “Can do whatever the fuck I want," he grumbles.

You push back onto him hard. “Then do it,” you challenge. The intensity in the room was fast approaching a hundred. You continue with the deep pace, occasionally squeezing your core so you could watch Ethan bite his lip.

“Can you handle this?” You know the answer, but getting your previously cocky boyfriend underneath you whimpering, whining, doing anything but looking at you was a site to savour. It would be criminal not to tease him, not to get him even shier. “Can you do whatever you want? Can you do fucking anything?”

“Yeah…”

“What was that?” You smile sweetly before rapidly tightening around Ethan.

“Fuck, ‘m close, please keep going, shit.”

You capture him in a tender kiss as you continue. His whimpers travel through your mouth straight into your brain, and you think your brain might overload.

And you just can't have that, can you? You leave his lips after completely stopping your movements.

His complaints echo throughout the dorm room. He’s too needy to care who hears, too desperate to wonder whether he really did hear your door open earlier, yeah, he probably just imagined it.

Ethan’s hands reach for your hips. “Come on,” he begs, “you’re mean.”

“No worse than you.” You kiss his cheek, and start to pull yourself up from his cock.

Before you’re fully empty, he drives himself back into you. Your blood runs hot as you realise this game was nowhere near over. You were stupid if you really thought he was going to let you off that easy.

“You are such a fucking brat.”

His strength easily outweighs yours, leaving you pinned underneath him. “And you’re a fucking whore, angel.”

Even with his hungry stare, you still see ghosts of his pout across his lips. You’re slack underneath him, but there’s fire in your eyes and a snarl being fought off.

Your hands reach for his throat, and his thrusts stutter. This wasn’t done. It was going to be a long night before one of you called yourself the winner, relishing in the other’s defeat before the next match.

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