Sleeping Prank | Chris Sturniolo

Sleeping prank | Chris Sturniolo

Chris Sturniolo x reader

Summary: Where Nick pranks Chris and Y/N while they are sleeping.

Warning: None.

Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

PS.: I know I posted a Matt x reader just some hours ago, but I just watched the triplets' vlog in Texas and had this idea, I've never written so fast 😫.

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Nick walked towards the double bed closest to the hotel room's door, their vlogging camera in his right hand, while his left hand held a bottle of lemonade.

He slowly approached, raising the camera so that the lens caught what was on top of it, or rather, who. Y/N and Chris were still fast asleep, both covered by the fluffy white blanket.

The girl was lying on the left side, that is, closer to Nick. Her head was lying on Chris's right arm, using it as her personal pillow, while the boy's left arm was around her shoulders covered by one of his t-shirts.

The only visible parts of the couple were their heads - which were practically on top of each other - and Chris's bare shoulders and arms that were slightly shivering from the Texas cold. Unfortunately, the room's heater didn't seem to be able to combat the coldness completely.

Nick couldn't see, but he was sure their legs were tangled under the blanket. He joked that when they slept together, they seemed to melt into each other with how close they were.

As the oldest triplet got closer to the bed, the camera was able to capture the small snores that came out of Chris's half-open mouth and the soft sighs that escaped Y/N's nose, both sounding like a lullaby to each other.

Nick pressed his lips into a thin line, trying to contain his laughter as he anticipated the couple's reaction. He loved playing pranks on them both, especially when they were sleeping.

"Chris, do you want a sip? Y/N?" Nick's voice sounded low behind the camera as the lens captured him, raising his left arm, the bottle entering the frame, bringing it closer to the couple's faces.

Chris, being a light sleeper, woke up seconds after. He lifted his head slightly as he tightened his arms around Y/N, pulling her closer - if that was even possible.

That movement woke up Y/N, or almost. The girl opened her eyes slightly, keeping them in a thin line, exhaling through her nose before closing them again, seeming not to register Nick in front of her.

"Hmm?" The questioning sound escaped Chris's throat. He turned his head from side to side slowly, trying to understand what was happening, his messy hair falling into his eyes.

"Do you want a sip? I think Y/N must be thirsty, too." Nick continued, his cheeks turning red from the effort he was doing while trying not to laugh.

"What, Nick?" Chris's voice sounded for the first time, the hoarseness making his words almost intelligible. The sound made Y/N open her eyes again, this time a little wider.

She lifted her hands, which were previously under the blanket, and brought them to Chris' ones in front of her body, intertwining them, shivering at the contact of her hot skin with her boyfriend's cold one. A sound of discomfort left her lips as she finally noticed Nick in front of her, holding what looked like a bottle. She quickly closed her eyes again, feeling too tired for whatever that was that Nick wanted.

"It's lemonade. Do you guys want a sip or not?" Nick prevailed, moving the bottle closer to their faces.

"If you drop that on me... I'll kill you." This time, it was Y/N's voice that sounded, equally hoarse and tired from the previous day's filming with Sam and Colby. She only opened one eye this time, looking at Nick but not really being able to focus on him, her vision blurred by sleep.

"It's lemonade." The standing boy spoke again, letting out a low, almost imperceptible laugh. He knew he would get yelled at when the couple actually woke up.

"Are you fucking stupid?" Chris responded, stretching for a few seconds without letting go of Y/N's hand, pulling her closer against his bare chest and burying his head in the crook of his girl's neck, exhaling the natural scent of her skin.

"Go away, Nick." Y/N spoke again, finally closing her eyes completely with the comfort of her boyfriend's body heat against her own, a happy sigh scaping her mouth.

They both fell asleep again within seconds, as if nothing had happened.

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Extra - comments:

"the way they sleep so close together, being all cuddly and everything 🥺"

"Chris and Y/N are such couple goals"

"I've never seen a cozier bed in my life 😫"

"dear Santa Claus ✏️📄"

"I want a boyfriend who cuddle me while we sleep like I'm going to run away at any minute 😭"

"Nick is a real pest LMAO"

"Nick holding himself back from laughing behind the camera 😭"

"Chris and Y/N's sleepy voice 😔"

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My asks are always open. Feel free to send requests or anything at all!! 🩷💋

omg the way every inch makes me drool idk what u did to me i haven’t been the same since 😃 ur so talented i owe u my kidney for that fic alone ! would ever consider part two?? no pressure !!!

EVERY INCH 2

2200 words, m!ghostface x f!reader

follows Every Inch. NEXT: Every inch 3

SUMMARY: Last time you saw ghostface, he was unconscious from the car wreck and you had your way with him. Now, he's coming to take what's his. A/N: He's never unmasked so ANY Ghostface with a 🍆. Thank you so much for all the love on my first Ghostface fic. This was a "one shot fail" because of the engagement & enthusiasm so keep that in mind. night walks coded. WARNINGS: I8+ piv, noncon, ghostface calls himself daddy once, peeping tom, dirty talk, masturbation (both), knifeplay, hair pulling, manhandling, choking kinda, degradation, pet names (baby, sugar, nasty). NO USE OF Y/N. 

You've put Ghostface behind you, at least in terms of fearing for your life. He's finally left you alone. He must be too humiliated to face you after you restrained him and had your way with him in the car while he was passed out. You still look at the picture you took every day.  You'd like to get it printed and stick it on your bathroom mirror.  He looks so pathetic with his own mess all over his robe. But it's not just the humiliation you love to see. It's his cock. . .

Yeah, his cock.  You've thought about it more than a few times. He would've given you every inch. All you had to do was ask. And the video of him whimpering? You save that for special occasions. Like when you need to cum in a hurry. 

It's Friday night and you're lying in bed after getting home from seeing a movie.  You make sure your vibrator is charged before you start reading, but soon enough you get distracted.  You're looking at your video of Ghostface coming all over himself when a call pops up on the screen. No ringtone.  Your phone is still on silent from the theater.  

The restricted number still makes your heart jump even after such an empowering victory. But you rip the bandaid off and answer it on the first ring. "Hello?"

"So... how'd you like the movie?" the voice changer asks you. 

You panic and hang up, but when he calls right back, you answer again. "This isn't funny, whoever you are."

"You know it's me, baby. You feel it in your. . . pants."

"What do you want?"

"I asked how you liked the movie." 

Friday night. Lucky guess. You know he’s not going to let it go, so you might as well answer. You’re not going to give him the satisfaction of acting aghast that he knows what you did tonight.  "Fine, I liked it. It was fun,” you say dismissively. 

"Picked a bad time to refill your drink. . .  Missed a great kill."

Your heart jumps. ". . .you were there?" The theater wasn't even that crowded. How could he go undetected? Surely you would have recognized something about a man you rode into oblivion. 

He's bemused. "What, you thought I was gone? Nowhere?”

"wishful thinking," you reply. 

Ghostface says, “Oh, we both know what you really wish for. . .”

You’re not even going to argue. 

“How was your date?" 

"How was yours with your hand?" You retort.

"You didn't look interested.” 

"What, are you gonna ask me out?" Your face heats up as you hear your own words.

"Not tonight. 'Cause you've got a date with that toy and my picture, don't ya?”

You freeze. 

He taunts, "Want a third wheel?"

You ask, "How long have you been watching me?"

"Never stopped, sugar." You feel like a fool for thinking he had. “I’ve just been a little. . . distracted.” 

You scoff. 

". . . Okay, did you call just to talk?"

"Wanted some audio with my visual this time."

"Pervert."

“oh I'm the pervert," he chides. Your face is burning up.

"You know, you’ve still got something of mine.”  His knife. You’ve hid it somewhere special.  “Keep comin’ for it. . .but don’t wanna interrupt you.”  

You look out your window, which faces the woods.  "Cause you put on a good show, baby." There’s never been a reason to close the curtains.  You preferred to see danger coming. Danger like him. A lot of good that’s done you. 

“You’re a creature of habit, aren’t you?” 

Are you that predictable?  

“Lucky for me,” he adds darkly.  His breathing becomes audible.  “Oh, you like this, don't you . . . knew ya would. . .  .  .Dripping already.” His voice is steady through the equalizer, but his speech pattern tells you his dick is hard. And god damn if he isn’t turning you on. 

“Dip a finger and show daddy how wet you are.” 

Before you know it, you're doing it. You don’t show him, but you curiously dip you fingers and pull apart the clear string of of your arousal

“Two fingers . . let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”  You lie there clenching your thighs together. 

“Ah, fuck it. Go ahead, turn it on,” he says but you don’t move. You clench your thighs together.  “Turn it on,” he repeats firmer, and something possesses you to turn your vibrator on. 

“Yeah, that’s it . . .”

You don’t even need the picture now, or the video, or your reading. But you don’t exactly want to let him make you come this fast. 

He sighs and says, “You’ve got a nice, juicy pussy." He spits, which the voice changer doesn’t process.

You close your eyes and recall what it felt like impaling yourself on his cock. 

"You don't have to say it," he reassures you menacingly. "I know I’ve got a nice cock.” 

He’s right about that.  You close your eyes as you touch yourself.  You’re too horny to think straight, but in the back of your mind, you try to tell yourself he killed your friends. He killed your friends. It doesn’t make you any less turned on. You sigh in shame at yourself. How does Ghostface have you wrapped around his finger?

“Oh, it’s only natural, baby. This cock’ll fuck you right up.” God, why does that turn you on? “In the guts and the head.” 

"Real shame I wasn’t awake.” He breathes heavily for a few seconds. "Coulda been even better for you.” 

You fail to suppress a moan as heat is bubbling in your core. 

“Yeah. . .Can’t stop thinkin' about this cock, can ya?” 

You turn up the intensity of your vibe. 

“Not everyday someone takes every inch of this.” He moans weakly then spits again. “Filthy girl.  Swallowed it right up.” 

“So tell me, sugar," his breathing is even heavier now. "How do you want it?”

“What if i don’t” you lie, then gasp at the tension in your core.

“Then why’d you take it,” he says with a bite and the heavy breathing stops. 

“Because,” you pant. “It was there.”

You’re getting close.  “How do you want me,” you self-loathingly ask. He doesn’t answer. You look at your phone and he’s gone. Shit. You open the video you took of him and as soon as you hear him whimper, your body jerks as the tension bursts inside you. As soon as you finish pulsing, the regret hits you like a tidal wave. So fucked up. Soooo disgusting.  You need a shower. 

—---

You take a long, hot shower, listening to music. You sigh, feeling a little better already. You turn off the water.

“Soaking wet. That’s how I want you.” You freeze and the only sound is the dripping water for a few seconds while the song changes.  

“Come on, you’re smarter than this.” The voice changer echoes through your bathroom and you almost fall over. “What’s next? Going down to the basement?”

You stand silently in the shower with your heartbeat echoing in your ears.  There’s nothing you can do.  You squat down, hugging your knees.  There’s no good option.   

The shower curtain slowly draws open and he looms above you.

“My turn, baby."  The glint of a knife–your own kitchen knife–catches your eye. He tilts his head slightly and observes you for a moment.  Then he pulls your hair and violently forces you to your feet. You begin to slip and he catches you, then manhandles you out of the tub and you whimper. You’re thrashing around wet and naked.  He drags you to the bathroom sink and puts you between him and the sink, both of you facing the mirror. He reaches out and wipes the mirror with his robe to make sure you can see. 

The sight is surreal. You’re completely nude with Ghostface up against you.  One gloved hand cups your breast while the other raises the knife.  He stays behind you and holds your own kitchen knife to your throat.  

He inhales audibly. “So clean and so filthy.”  

You elbow him in the gut. “Let go of me.” 

“Afraid not, baby. . .” The hand leaves your breast and slides lower.  He presses on your hip, bringing you tight against him. “Too late now.” His hips push forward and the massive shape of his hard cock makes you weak. 

He holds you still with just one of his big arms as you struggle.  “Coulda had it how ya wanted.” 

The unwelcome throb between your legs is spreading through your abdomen. 

“Now you’re gonna take it right here.”  He keeps you pinned to the counter, the arm with the knife holding you still while he lifts his robe and tugs his PJ pants down.  “You’ve put me behind you after all.”  He jerks you back against him, pulling you off the counter and holding you tight against his hard dick.  He lightly trails the tip of the knife down your cleavage and your stomach, dipping into your belly button on its way down to your mound. Then he holds it handle-up and teases your cunt with the flat of the knife as you watch in the mirror. The cold metal sends a shiver down your spine and you watch your nipples harden.

“Who are you?”

“Your favorite bad guy. Ask me a. . . harder one.” He grinds himself against you.

“What do you want?”

“To know what your insides feel like.” You suck in a deep breath and register the smell of weed as his cock twitches against your bare skin. “When I’m awake,” he adds. 

He pries your legs apart with his knee, then his glove brushes your inner thighs as he aligns his cock at your entrance. “Oh you’re ready ready,” he says. He notches himself with the thick head of his cock resting snug against your wet little hole, then he holds you tight and shoves himself into you with a sigh.  You have to try not to moan with the most welcome stretch. “Hell yeah,” the mask says into your ear. Thank God you’re so wet, because there is a lot of him. He pulls back, then slams into you, bottoming out with a grunt then another sigh. You watch your face in the mirror and try to wipe the enjoyment off it. 

The hand with the knife rests against your chest as he pounds you. “You’re lucky you’re so hot.” You want to memorize the feeling of his cock inside you so you can come to it later instead of giving him the satisfaction right now.  He pants as he thrusts into you harder.  “So. . .damn. . . hot.” You look down watching your breasts jiggle as he rails you. “I don’t think so. . . baby.” He grabs your chin and makes you look back up at the mirror. Your drooping eyelids give away how good you feel. 

“Take it like a bad girl.” He grunts and brutally fucks you in the way you’re afraid only he can. No, no, you shouldn’t be thinking thoughts like this. “A real bad girl.” A climax is gathering in your lower belly.  “Cock hungry little slut,” he bites and it makes you twitch. “This pussy’s mine now, you know.” 

He buries himself inside you for another minute and makes it rough. “Now or never baby," he pants. “Know you wanna come on this cock.” God, you do. “Do it now.”  He slams into you harder than ever and groans as he begins to pulse inside you.  You can’t stop it. The feeling of his climax trips you into your own.  Your needy cunt chokes his cock, milking him of an unfathomable load.  He fucks you through it and your body jerks into his imposing, robed form. His cum is in every crevice of your core.  You can’t help but moan and sigh.

“Good girl,” he says.

His cock slides out of you, leaving a void that slowly caves in on itself. He tucks it back into his pants. 

------

Ghostface forcibly positions your chin to take one last look in the mirror. Then he picks up your phone from the counter and forces you to swipe the camera on.  He points it at the mirror and says, “say cheese.” He tosses your phone back on the counter, then slams you chest-first into the back of the door with an impact. He holds the knife to the side of your neck and says, “you’re welcome.” He really smells like weed.

“Now where’s my knife.”

“I don’t have it,” you claim. 

“I don’t believe you.” 

“What’s so special about it?”

“It’s mine.” 

“The cops have it.” 

“No they don’t. Why are you lying?”

You’re not really sure. He presses the flat of the knife so hard against your throat you start to choke. “Okay,” you manage hoarsely. He lets you breathe.  You look behind him toward the toilet. 

He drags you by the elbow to the toilet. He opens the back of it and the knife is wrapped up in a grocery bag. “You watch too many movies,” he says. He pushes you out of the way, opens the door, and leaves. The song turns to Call Me by Blondie.

NEXT: PART 3

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Please engage (reblog/comment)  if you want more of this <333 It might go a long way in motivation.

Yes this is my night walks coded ghostface but I think most people reading this don't know what night walks is lol.

Call Me:This Blog::Red Right Hand:Canon. But in this case it especially makes sense 🥹

@hearteyed-shawty had a song rec last time: I'm Yours by Isabel Derosa.

Slasher master list

@ghostslittlegf @sunflowerleii @igotmajordaddyissues @rileyquinn07

la di die | serial killer!rafe

a/n: let me know if u guys want a part two :)

a strict curfew in the outer banks meant absolutely nothing to the privileged residents of figure 8. a few of your classmates were brutally murdered throughout the span of a month and there was an island wide panic about finding the masked civilian who was behind these tragedies. despite all of this, there was still a party going on right next door from your house.

it was the biggest party of the summer. anybody who was anybody was going to be there tonight. you were so excited to finally free the stress of schoolwork and let loose for the night. you had the perfect outfit planned and were looking forward to the get ready portion while you pregamed. your parents were at a charity banquet, as most of the parents on figure 8 were.

it was the perfect coverup.

your excitement got the best of you and you ended up passing out around 10 o’clock, not even finishing your full face of makeup. you woke up to the sound of the security alarm being disarmed. you sat up quickly, rubbing at your eyes and immediately regretting it as you felt your false eyelashes begin to peel off. you ripped them both off slowly, tossing them onto your comforter somewhere and making your way out of the room.

“thank god you guys are home,” you called out to your parents into the hallway. “i’m starving. let’s order pizza.” as you made your way down the steps, you noticed the lights weren’t on. that was weird. you could’ve sworn you left them on when you came home from school. you flicked the light switch closest to the staircase you were standing on. by no surprised are we surprised—the light wasn’t turning on.

“pops? are you home?” you asked, making your way down the steps slowing. the only answer you received was the sound of the creaky final step echoing across the room. “mom?” your voice wavered as the fear trembled through your body.

as more silence surrounded you, you wandered around the lower level of your home. you were just turning into the kitchen when your phone’s ringtone blared, scaring you half to death. SARAH CAMERON flashed across the screen. “what the fuck?” you gasp. sarah cameron was one of the murdered teens.

when you didn’t answer the first time, sarah called you again. you picked up on the second ring, slowly holding the phone up to your ear. “sarah?” you whispered.

“you wish this was sarah.”

it was not sarah cameron. that was not her voice. oh my gosh! that voice. it was deep, almost static-like, as if someone were speaking through a voice recording.

“who is this?” you asked.

“that’s not the question you should be asking me, sweetheart,” the stranger teased.

“how the hell do you have sarah cameron’s phone? who is this!?” you walked over to the window above the kitchen sink. you could see the led lights changing colors from the living room window next door. you pulled the curtains shut. “whoever this is, you’re seriously fucked.”

“not as fucked as you’re going to be when I cut open your insides and watch them sliver onto the ground.”

your face scrunches up in disgust. “you’re sick!”

“so they say,” they lightly laugh as you pull open the drawers and find that all of the knives have been removed. you heart drops. “not gonna have much luck there, kid.”

but this time, the voice wasn’t coming from the phone. it was coming from right behind you. you dropped your phone down on the counter, instantly turning around and coming face to face with the local masked killer. you scream and made a break for the opposing entryway as the one they stood in front of. they chased after you, hands dangerously close to grabbing the fabric of your dress and yanking you backwards.

you didn’t realize you were crying until you got to your front door. you pulled on the door knob and with no luck, it didn’t open. you remembered that you needed to punch in the security code first. before you could make your way to the system, your hair was grabbed. you let out another scream as your body was thrown to the ground. the masked figure stood above you, head tilted as they watched you.

you looked so beautiful with tears streaming down your cheeks.

“please,” you begged. “please don’t do this!”

they got down to your level, one knee pressed in between your legs to keep them apart. “please!” you sobbed. they held a shiny silver blade in one hand while the other began to slide up your top to reveal your belly button. another loud cry escaped you. they really are going to cut up my insides. you thought.

they held the blade over your head as the final scream left your throat. but before they could push it down to strike you, you reached up and tugged on the gold chain that hung from their chest. “rafe!” you whined. “you need to be more careful.”

rafe cameron ripped off his mask as quickly as you broke character. he was breathing heavily, no doubt filled with the adrenaline that he craves. “babe, why’d you stop?” he breathed out.

“because I can see your necklace, dummy,” you reach up and tuck it underneath the all black t-shirt he had on. “

“oh,” he says dumbly. he makes a move to get off of you but you tug pull down by his shoulders.

“don’t go!” you almost yell. your face grows warm with sexual desire. your voice now soft and shy. “I like it.”

he presses his knee further into your core. he can feel how wet you are. he smirks and uses his blade to rip your shirt open, not even caring how expensive it is.

and so he fucked you. right on the floor, with your panties looped around your ankle. he was balls deep while you were on all fours, practically clawing into the floorboards beneath you.

“i’m gonna cum,” you whimpered, squeezing around his length.

“give it to me baby,” rafe breathed out, squeezing on your oversensitive tits. “cum all over my dick, there you go. perfect, baby. always so perfect.”

THIS ISNT BAILEY STEPSIBLINGS RELATED BUT CAN I HAVE A SMALL DRABBLE (NSFW) WITH CAMP COUNSELOR ETHAN LANDRY FUCKING READER<3THANKS LOVE YOU POOK

I STARTED TO MAKE THIS A FULL FIC SO IF U WANT IT LMK BUT HERE'S A SMALL DRABBLE

for some reason, it makes it so much better, knowing that if either of you were caught, you would lose your hard earned title of counselor. ethan continuously reminded you of that fact just a few minutes ago, whenever he was poorly attempting to restrain himself as you kissed at his neck and urged his shirt over his head. all it took was you asking if he wanted to continue, your hands at the button of your shorts, and he was nodding, completely forgetting about anything outside of this room.

the way he fucked you expressed all of the hormones and feelings you'd both been keeping pent up the entire summer. you both had sex multiple times the week leading up to leaving for camp, but working with your boyfriend, watching him chop wood and work lifeguard duty, had your mind racing.

in truth, you both were going to end up in this position anyway, it's a miracle that you made it all the way to the last night.

when he finally got to fuck you, ethan fucked you passionately, from the way he fingered you, to the way he had to physically pull his lips away from your cunt. he'd moaned into your juices, his eyes closing softly before reopening to present you with the bambi eyes.

when he finally sunk into you, his cock wrapped in the condom that you made fun of him for bringing, all concerns or smart-mouthed quips faded from your lips and brains. his pelvis meeting yours with each thrust, his cock sinking into your tight walls, curving perfectly to hit the spot that ethan had purposefully memorized with the intent to please you as much as possible each time. your sensitivity made the first round last shorter than either of you intended, your legs lifting, ankles interlocking behind ethan's back, your nails scratching at his shoulders and the nape of his neck. ethan was so lost in the feeling that you almost had to beg him to kiss you, your voice whiny and in a pitch that would be embarrassing if you weren't so lost in it yourself.

it was so hot in the cabin, and deep in your brain you were still worried about the dish duty you would be on tonight, and the solo bathroom-cleaning duty that you had tomorrow, and of course you were worried about the nosy kids running around outside of the cabins, but when ethan's fingers found your clit, giving you fast and tiny circles, the only thing you could remember was ethan's name.

your body shook as you came, your voice cracking as you slapped a hand over your own mouth to keep your noises quiet. ethan wasn't long behind you, cumming inside with a few twitches of his cock and a long sigh. the warmth made you twitch too, and your arms opened to allow ethan to collapse on top of you. a few moments passed, your nails gently scratching and massaging ethan's scalp as both of you attempted to catch your breaths enough for one of you to speak. you did first.

"think you can convince chad to cover for you in the morning so you can help me with bathroom duty?" you could feel ethan smile against the crook of your neck.

Joel and Preggo wife chillin at home where Joel is meandering around the kitchen. And you're sitting in your big chair eying him suspiciously. The microwave chimes off and Joel retrives his little cup. Stirring his fork in the dry mix, he blows on the contents.

Youre leaning very far over your chair to unsuccessfully get a glimpse at the soon-to-be-yours food in his hands.

"What are you making?" You ask curiously.

"Mac and cheese," he says calmly, looking down.

"And you aren't gonna offer me any?"

"Oh," Joel looks over to you: his a little angry pregnant gremlin. How stupid of him not to offer. His poor pregnant wife could smell anything over a mile away, and hes just ignornantly in his own world helping himself. "Sorry, would you like some?"

You fold your arms attitudinally and shift forward away from him. "No."

He shrugs. "Ok."

Joel's taken his seat on the couch opposite, fanning cool breath over his Mac and cheese. His fork is 1 cm from his open mouth when you interrupt: "Well....okay yes i'll just have one bite of yours."

He pauses, the steam teasing his tongue. "Ah ok." Getting up, he hands you the cup and fork.

"Ya bastard," you mumble clearly.

You takes one bite, humming contently as the cheesey noodley highly processed gooey mess fills your buds and travels warmly to your belly. Joel reaches for the cup but you take another forkfull. Then you continue to mix and eat it, absorbed in the tv while Joel just stands there, his mac and cheese cup getting emptier and emptier.

Despite his hovering, he quickly accepts he's not getting it back and goes to make another for himself.

When you finish and set it down on the table with a satisfied "ahhhh", rubbing your pregnant belly, Joel grins.

"Good?"

"Meh. Was just ok."

You don't see him frowning, looking back at the empty cabinet with no more Mac and cheese.

idk if you have already written this since im a new follower but i was wondering if you can write where bimbo!reader puts on the ghostface mask with like sexy lingerie and ethan EATS IT UP.

i love your writing sm! and i understand if you dont wanna write this :) i literally cant get enough of your stories lol

a) thank you for following me and appreciating my work !! b) i would love to write this for you *rubs hands together* no smut i'm lazy

When Ethan walks into his room to see you holding a white mask in your hands, his heart rate immediately increases. He pauses in the doorway, his hand still wrapped around the knob, one foot inside of the room and the other out.

He's about to speak, maybe play it off and pretend the mask doesn't hold any significance to him, or tell you that it's not what it looks like. You speak before him.

Your head lifts, your lips in a pout, when you say, "You had one this whole time? And you didn't tell me?"

Ethan, completely confused, steps into the bedroom and lets the door swing closed behind him. He looks over you, noticing how you're only wearing his hoodie and a pair of boots. You both were supposed to be getting ready for the frat party that Chad was insisting Ethan go to tonight, something about getting the true freshmen in college experience. Of course, Ethan couldn't go without his girlfriend, which made Chad even happier as he not so subtly insinuated that Ethan should get laid tonight.

But you didn't look party ready, save for from your neck up.

He licks his lips and approaches you. "What're you talking about?"

You hold the Ghostface mask up directly beside you, your free hand singling out a pointer finger to point at the mask. "The mask, Ethan!" you say like it's completely obvious. Ethan's starting to think that it is obvious, and he's just not picking up on it. His throat gets a little dry, and his eyes get shifty.

He's thinking of something to say but again, you beat him to it. "You knew I was looking for one for Halloween. For tonight!"

Oh yeah. That.

Ethan did know that, but he was so enamored by your nails clacking along your keyboard and the way your new perfume smelled and the way your glossed lips parted as your perfect teeth smacked on your minty gum. You were overwhelming his senses, so he could barely focus on your smooth voice detailing your Halloween costume options.

"Shit, 'm sorry. I didn't know about that." Lie. He reaches out to splay his hands over your waist to cover up how horrible he is at lying. "Maybe next year?"

You lean into his touch, but your head tilts as if you're not understanding him. "I can wear it this year, too."

Ethan watches as your hands reach down to the hoodie, pulling it over your head carefully as to not drop the mask. His brain short circuits as he sees what you're wearing.

It's barely anything. Mostly because you're not wearing actual clothes, just a set of lingerie that Ethan hasn't seen before, most likely a new purchase.

"See this is what I was gonna wear, E," you say it through a pout but the words barely meet Ethan's ears. He's too busy staring at your soft skin, the way your tits sit in the bra, the way your thighs look, the way the panties hug your hips.

You're still talking, but Ethan's hands are already back on your waist and trailing down to your hips.

"Well I wasn't going to wear just this. I didn't wanna look like a total slut. So I have a little skirt I was gonna wear. You know the tiny one that almost shows my ass? Ethan?"

He hums, letting you repeat the last of your sentence. "Mhm," he says when you finish, the noise acting enough as affirmation for you to continue.

"Would that look cute with this? What'd you think?" He doesn't answer. "Ethan."

"Baby, I'm sorry. But I'm not listening to anything you're saying right now."

The admission makes you heat up, not from anger but from the opposite. Knowing that Ethan is always listening to you, and the only reason why he's not right now is because you're distracting him with your figure, makes you feel a little giddy inside.

"Do you like it?" Your voice is soft, your eyes the same. He nods, licking his lips and pulling you close enough that you can feel the bulge forming in his pants.

"Yeah?" you ask.

"Yeah."

"Sure it's not too much?"

Ethan's leaning down now, his hands circling around your back, obviously itching to grip your ass. You push yourself against him, free hand resting on his forearm, giving it a little push as a go-ahead.

"Not too much at all." His hand finally inches down and he takes one of your almost-bare asscheeks in his palm, squeezing it before smacking it.

You giggle, your head knocking against his chest. Ethan lifts one hand to encourage your head to leave his chest only so he can kiss you once, twice, thrice, then one more that's longer, a little more heated, but he wills himself away.

"Can you put the mask on for me?"

Your eyes are staring up at him, so big and wide, you're clearly eager to please, hence why you don't question it and instead nod, leaning up to kiss him one more time before you're pulling the mask over your head, prepared for whatever Ethan has planned.