Vitzi9 - 🇵🇸i Write Sometimes And Stand With Palestine🇵🇸

being bold and deciding to make the first move by kissing his rings before you push his hand up your skirt 🤭

Distracted

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

You're a friend of Robin's whose been in his world peripherally for a while. Like you've gone to the same parties and you've hung out at Family Video and seen him when he brought the teens in to see Steve after Hellfire sessions. You've only hung out in groups and your conversations, though extremely flirty, have been pretty surface level.

But you've got a thing for the quirky metalhead. Not only is he a fucking babe, but he also seems genuinely sweet and is very funny. When you bring this up to Robin, however, you aren't prepared for how she lights up, telling you that Eddie's been asking about you, too. Ever the matchmaker, Robin pushes you into a plot that makes it so that you and Eddie end up alone at his place on a Saturday night (initial group plans are bailed on last minute by all the teens who were threatened within an inch of their life not to actually show up).

Eddie seems unfazed by this turn of events and takes it in stride, cracking open a six pack for the two of you to share and throwing on a horror movie.

"If you want to bail, too, that's cool," he lets you know, even as you plop down beside him on the couch, beer in hand. He's got a self-deprecating smile on his face. "I'm sure hanging out alone with the town freak wasn't exactly on your agenda this week."

"Don't presume to know my agenda, Munson," you tsk, feigning a frown that is already curling around the edges into the smile you can't suppress. "You know how type A I am. I won't have you questioning my to-do list."

You apply the innuendo lightly, but the way his eyebrow quirks lets you know that it lands as you'd intended. Eddie runs his tongue over his teeth while appraising you.

"I wouldn't dare get in the way of your efficiency, sweetheart." There's a dare in his eyes, but you lean back against the couch and watch him over the top of your bottle as you take a sip. You've got time.

As the night goes on, the two of you drink and laugh and tease one another. One movie ends and he puts on the sequel immediately. Some slasher where kids are running around screaming in the woods. The two of you discuss what your own strategy would be if you found yourselves in a similar situation. At this point, you're feeling loose and floaty - combination of the alcohol and the sound of Eddie's laughter. It's got bubbles fizzing in your bloodstream. Your bodies have shifted closer on the couch as time has gone on, and as he emphatically describes something, his hand comes down to press onto your knee. Seemingly just as a matter of emphasis and to ground your attention in his point, but you notice that his hand doesn't lift up when he finishes his monologue.

A thrill of possessive pleasure runs through your body at the realization.

"You know, you'd probably die somewhere around the halfway point of the movie," you challenge suddenly and Eddie's eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

"I'm sorry, princess, but what?!"

"You know because you're all..." you gesture to his body. The denim vest he's still wearing over his band tee even though he's relaxing at home. The tattoos. The heavy rings on the hand that's still resting on your knee. His fingers flex against your skin when you point at them.

"I'm a badass, you mean? What about my badassery makes you think I'm dying at all?"

"The cool guys always die at the midpoint," you argue. "They get distracted having sex with the hot girls and that's when the killer guts them." Exactly as you say this, as if the universe is trying to bolster your argument, a young man on screen is stabbed through the back mid-thrust, falling down bloody upon his shrieking lover. You glance away from the screen and back at Eddie with a satisfied smirk. "Case in point."

"All I got from that is the fact you think I'm cool," Eddie says with a smug smirk. You roll your eyes at him but shift a bit closer.

"I also said you'd die fucking a bimbo."

"No, you said I'd die fucking a hot girl," he corrects, also shifting infinitesimally closer.

"Oh, so you were listening," you tease. Your hand rests on top of his hand on your knee and you start fiddling with his rings.

"Yeah, and I guess that means you should be concerned," he says flippantly, his fingers splaying out on your knee so that yours have more space to move between them. You're now distracted by the attention you're focusing on his hand.

"Why should I be concerned?"

"Because the hot girl getting fucked by the cool guy dies next," he says, nodding his head towards the tv you had all but forgotten about just as a young woman running topless through the woods, her breasts swinging and covered in her dead boyfriend's blood, is cut down by the killer. You both laugh.

"All I got from that is the fact you think I'm hot," you say turning back to him and mimicking his prior comment. His face lights up with a grin.

"Guilty as charged, sweetheart."

The moment feels right. The electricity between the two of you is palpable and you lift his hand up off your knee and towards your lips.

"They only get got, though, because they get distracted," you posit, pressing a kiss to each of Eddie's rings. His eyes are trained on your lips, his own parted to let his suddenly shallow breathing pass through. "Do you think you could keep from getting distracted?"

"Uh...yeah," Eddie says, running his tongue over his bottom lip. "Yeah I'm sure I could stay focused. Vigilant."

"Oh yeah?" you ask, smiling at how he's already so distracted. Suddenly you're lowering his hand and bringing it to the top of your thigh, right at the hem of your skirt. He takes a sharp inhale. "What's that? Losing focus?"

"No. Never, sweetheart," he says with a laugh, though it's shaky. Without even losing a beat his fingers flex in your hand, the pad of his thumb caressing at the skin of your thigh that he's never touched till now.

"What about now?" you ask, abruptly pushing his hand up your skirt to rest on your clothed pussy.

Before you can even process the next heartbeat, Eddie is on you. His mouth is capturing yours in a soul searing kiss and you can't help but gasp into him. Taking in his taste and scent all at the same heady time. Your hand abandons his on your mound and you bring your arms up around his neck to pull him as close to you as possible.

"If I die, I fucking die,” Eddie practically growls against your lips. “Distract me, baby.”

You laugh but he dips his head down to nips at your collar bone and it turns into a moan. Eddie’s hand starts rubbing blindly at your slit through your panties and you find your hips moving against his fingers of their own accord.

“Do horror movies turn you on?” Eddie teases. You bite your lip and shake your head, looking him dead in the eye.

“No, you turn me on, Eddie Munson.”

Suddenly you’re being pushed back down against the couch. The abruptness of his manhandling has you squealing and you lock your arms around his neck, being sure to keep him close and bringing him down with you.

His kiss arrests your lips again, his tongue invading your mouth. It’s everything you ever wanted. It’s what you’d imagined each time you’d watched him from the other side of a party or listened to him joking around with your mutual friends.

All of his attention. All of his focus on you.

What you don’t realize is that it’s always been on you. At those parties and those hang outs, as much as you’d watched him, he’d been watching you. Learned to love your smile and how quick you were to laugh. Catalogued your stories in the back of his mind as you told them to a riveted audience of all the teens.

He’s finally getting to touch you the way he’s always wanted. And it’s working him up faster than he’d like to admit.

You shift on the couch and it gives him more room to slot his body between your opened thighs. When his hard, denim-covered bulge presses against your thigh, your hips buck, pushing up into the palm which has been applying pressure to your pussy.

“Remember that agenda?” You ask with a tremor in your voice. His hand slips under the elastic of your panties, fingers making direct contacted with your slick core for the first time. You both groan.

“Um…yeah.” He says, shaking his head as if to clear it in order to comprehend your words. The tip of a finger circles your clit before sliding down to push into your hole. You gasp. “Your to-do list.”

“You’re at the top,” you gasp out.

There’s a moment where a Eddie doesn’t react. He’s so focused on pumping his finger in and out of your tight pussy, feeling you around him. Watching your chest rise and fall. But when your words make sense he throws back his head and let’s out a bellowing laugh. His laugh makes you laugh and then you’re shaking in one another’s arms. Trying to calm down. The shared vibrations of your joint hysteria seeming to wreak havoc on all of your nerve endings.

Eddie lunges forward and begins sucking at your neck and the tops of your breasts exposed by your low neckline. Just as he adds another finger to your pussy.

“I can be efficient, too, you know,” he says before worrying your skin between his lips.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Can you be efficient with your shirt off?” You ask, fingers scrabbling at the hem of the garment. Eddie sits up quickly and yanks the shirt off with unnecessary, theatrical aggression, tossing it away as if it’s offended him. You reach out and trace the tattoos on his chest and he moves to lower himself back over you.

“Mmm, cool guy,” you hum, your fingers passing delicately over his inked skin. Eddie quickly unbuttons your blouse and pulls it open, gazing hungry down at your bra-clad breasts.

“Hot girl,” he responds, pressing his face juvenilely between your tits. You grasp at the hair at the back of his neck and laugh until you feel him beginning to suck on you. Then your hips are rolling into his hand. The hand that’s started to fuck you in earnest. “You look like you’re more distracted than me right now, sweetheart. Maybe you’ll be dying before me after all. That petite mort, huh?”

You’re laughing and gasping all at once. His French accent is atrocious but he’s referencing a conversation you’d had with him and Robin about orgasms the week prior. You hadn’t thought he’d been paying attention since he’d been half in argument with Steve at the time, but now you know otherwise.

“You we’re listening to that? Was - fuck - pretty sure you were focused on whatever Harrington was saying.”

“I’m always focused on you, sweetheart.”

You feel heat creeping through your body as fondness mixes with arousal. You’re impatient and you both push and pull at him all at once.

“Ok I just need you to fuck me, ok? Can we jump to that?”

“Nuh uh, I’m making you cum first.” His thumb presses harder circles into your clit and you cry out. But you shake your head dramatically side to side.

“No I want you inside me now.”

“That’s a bit pushy of you, isn’t it?” Eddie teases, but as he does so he eases his fingers out of you and brings them up to lick off your slick. You’re already unbuckling his belt and pushing down his jeans.

“No, I’m efficient. Type A, remember?” His cock springs free of his boxers and you’re ready to drool. He’s practically edible, and if you weren’t so fucking on the edge right now you’d swallow him while immediately.

“How could I forget,” he responds, voice full of gravel as he grabs his cock and pumps one twice. You lay back against the couch, legs splayed and waiting for him, divesting yourself of your bra and cupping your breasts to keep yourself worked up. “Fuck you’re a pretty picture.”

“Gonna just stare or are you gonna do something, Munson?”

“See? Pushy,” he says, even as he lowers himself on top of you and pushes his tip right into your entrance.

The teasing stops as you both come together with rolling hips and gasping breaths. His thrusts are hard and definitive and you find yourself holding on for dear life. He feels so good and right and heavy and strong and you’re so close so soon.

“Eddie…Jesus Christ I’m…” your eyes are squeezed shut and he kisses your eye lids, paradoxically sweet when juxtaposed with the harsh way he’s pounding into you.

“You gonna cum, baby?” He asks, and there’s playful mocking in his tone. If you couldn’t feel his muscles shaking, proving he is equally close, you would have felt more shame.

“Y-yeah…gonna cum.” You admit it on a whine. He feels so good and then suddenly his finger is between you, swirling over your clit again.

“Already? I guess that’s efficient of you,” he says and you clench hard when you laugh, making him let out a loud moan.

“Stop - fuck! You can’t clench like that,” he admonishes.

“Stop making me laugh then, asshole,” you say with no bite. He, however, bites your neck and laves his tongue over the skin.

“Mmmm, you’re sexy when you’re mean.”

You’re not sure what does it - his thrusts, his finger on your clit, his teasing - but one moment you’re rolling your hips into his and the next you’re writhing beneath him, cumming harder than you ever have before. You practically black out calling his name, so much so that you don’t even notice when he cums along right after you.

You come back to your senses to find him still inside you, trailing kisses up and down your throat and chest. You take a deep shuddering breath and grip weakly at his back.

“You gotta get up,” you say, pushing weakly at him with not intent behind the motion. Eddie shakes his head and buries it into your neck.

“Never.”

“I gotta get up and cross you off my checklist.” You tease with a breathless laugh which he returns.

“You can’t. We were so distracted the killer got us. We’re dead, remember?” His grin is so wide one of your trembling hands lifts automatically to trace his dimples.

“Fuck. The downside to being cool and hot is pretty disproportionate to the upside.”

“Speak for yourself,” he snorts, letting his hand come up to cup your jaw. “I’m staring at a pretty big upside.”

~*~

Tiny tag list (will come back later and add more people): @sacklerscumrag @theoncrayjoy @millenialcatlady @xxcatrenxx @cowboy-kylo

hi tumblr i return with little puppy klitz

pls universe I am on my knees

the voices... of course, I had to make this AU??!

Y/N: How does someone get pregnant?

Nancy: Well, when two people love each other —

Y/N: Like me and Eddie! Keep going.

Nancy: They … they … they sleep together.

Y/N: We slept together!

Eddie: Not like that! No, we didn't.

Y/N: You're my baby daddy.

Eddie: I'll punch you in your mouth.

Y/N: Not in front of the baby!

Eddie: There is no baby!

Y/N: There is a baby!

Eddie: I ain't the daddy!

Y/N: We slept together, Eddie.

Eddie: We slept in the same room—

Y/N: And now I'm pregnant.

Eddie: You're not fucking pregnant.

Y/N: Look at him, cussing at the mother of his child.

Eddie: I can't stand you!

Y/N: Then why did you sleep with me?

Eddie: It was a sleepover, Y/N —

Y/N: Yeah, I was on bottom, you were on top!

Eddie: Yeah, on fucking bunk beds!

Everyone is very confused, looking between the couple that is clearly high.

They’re dating, your honor

This is more centered around Wayne and eddie cause we got robbed of seeing them together. Reader is coming over to watch a movie with eddie (maybe they're new and eddie was nice to them and reade had nothing to do that day or something.) So eddie is panicking and wayne finds it hilarious.

I JUST- I CANT ENOUGH OF EDDIE AND WAYNE I DEMAND MORE FICS

"i've got a girl coming over."

the mug in his hand stops halfway, newspaper falling backwards with the lack of support. wayne's head lowers, looks up at his nephew—who looks...proper, today—through his short eyelashes.

"well, that's a first," he sips his coffee, tongue scorched but it's not as painful as it used to be. "you babysitting or something?"

"n-no," eddie fiddles with his rings, fixing everything on the desk he's standing next to. he fixes the mugs he bought for his uncle, the scattered pens and folding the bills, shoving it inside a drawer. "she's a friend- did you shower today?"

wayne furrows his eyebrows. "i shower everyday, excuse you."

but he doesn't believe it. he saunters over to him, leaning down to take a whiff of his shoulder which makes wayne swat him away with his newspaper.

"what the hell?"

"you smell okay," eddie straightens his back. "listen, she wants to meet you."

wayne chuckles, closing his newspaper. "you didn't tell me you had a girlfriend,"

"she's not!" he blushes profusely, mostly out of embarrassment that he's blushing in front of his uncle like he'd asked eddie about a crush he had when he was in first grade. "she just wants to hang out and she says she wants to get to know you."

he buys it just a bit, standing up from his seat. "well, whaddya both plan on doing today?"

"watching a movie,"

"boring," he snorts. "when i was your age, i took girls out on dates outside of town. ate at diners, watched movies at cinemas, then we'd get behind my car and-"

"okay well first, the cinema's down. second, i'm not ready to have that conversation yet and i don't think i will," eddie tugs on his jacket, chin jutted with pride. "besides, you're too late for that."

"glad to know that,"

"do we have mugs?"

wayne shrugs. "i don't know. why don't you check the shelves. you give me at least three every year. father's day, my birthday, christmas. wonder how many mugs we got."

eddie rolls his eyes. "haha. funny,"

-

when wayne sees you exit eddie's van from the porch, he certainly didn't expect you'd look like a freshly picked flower from a meadow; you looked too soft for eddie, in his opinion, despite your style as he so calls it. but he's happy his nephews happy with you.

eddie senses your nervousness, couldn't help himself but let a hand hover on the small of your back as you both make your way to his uncle who's stepping on his cigarette until it dies down.

"hi!" you quip. "i'm (y/n). you must be—"

"wayne," he shakes your hand. "eddie's therapist,"

"oh!"

"i'm kidding," he lets go of your hand, ignoring the murderous glare of eddie who towers behind you. "i'm his uncle. glad to meet you. he's never shut up about you."

that was a lie. he only heard about you earlier. but he loves to inflict embarrassment.

your cheeks roseate, looking back at eddie who's eyes burn holes at the bald head of his uncle who raises his brows as if to ask what had been wrong. eddie shakes his head, finally letting his hand settle on the dip of your spine as he leads you inside.

"welcome to my humble abode, provided by my ever loving uncle," you observe the baby picture beside the small television, with a much younger wayne with darker hair and a mush of curls coating the top of his head, and an eddie who's smiling brightly with missing teeth, his uncle's hands resting on his chest. "that's me."

"cute," you chuckle. eddie looks at wayne, who gives him a thumbs up and crosses his arms. "what movie are we watching?"

"the fly," eddie says, looking over the table where the dvd rests. wayne snorts, which makes you whip your head at him that he apologizes with a smile. "j-jeff goldblum's in it,"

"nice,"

"hey, uncle wayne?" eddie's voice cracks, wincing but luckily enough you're still at your curiosity venture. "do we have any candles? those long, good smelling sticks that you use when you cook?"

his face blanks. "eds, we never had candles. and we ran out of those good smelling sticks. write them down on the grocery list for me, would ya?" eddie nods, and he pats him on the shoulder. "miss (y/n), sad i wouldn't be able to stay longer but," he takes his cap from a rack. "duty calls."

"oh, it's okay," you smile at him. "i'll take good care of eddie, sir. make sure he's taking all his vitamins and tell me all about his childhood,"

"roger that," wayne tugs his nephew by the shoulder, reaching for his pocket as he leans in to whisper. "now, eddie, you know i'm old. and you know you've got two months left till you leave that hell of a pit, so here's a little gift,"

he takes his hand, opening it widely before he slams something plastic in eddie's palm. when wayne removes his hand, he winces at the sight of the trojan condom in his hand.

"what the fuck?!" he looks behind frantically to make sure you weren't looking before eddie shoves it in his pocket. "i just met her last week!"

"well, you never know,"

reblogs and feedback are appreciated <3

obsessed

ethan landry x fmreader

page: getting a call from ghostface is never good. especially when you find out who lives under the mask—the dorky boy who you drunkenly kissed one night.

content warning: kissing; a little bit of touching; obsessive ethan; blood + mention of dead body; finger in mouth

god, he was obsessed. the way you danced, swaying your head without a care in the world. a red solo cup was in your grasp, as you took spacial sips.

ethan’s hands itched to do something he shouldn’t. you were a target, and his infatuation would only make you more so.

but then he catches sight of a guy slowly dancing up to you. his eyes ran down your form hungrily, and ethan nearly broke his teeth, as he clenched his jaw.

you and ethan knew each other. you were in the same friend group, but ethan never allowed himself to get closer than that.

now watching your drunk ass begin to half heartedly grind on the stranger made him crack. he pushed off the wall, skirting past the sweaty people until he reached you. grabbing your shoulders he brought you towards him and away from the stranger.

you crashed into ethan, your balance not ideal at the moment. ethan eyes the guy with a glare, as you turn to face the man again. ethan slips his hand around your waist, as you grab his shoulder, more so for balance than anything.

you look up at ethan with furrowed brows. “ethan? i didn’t see you.” you smile, your mind and mouth drunk.

ethan spares you a glance and restrains from touching you any further.

“hey angel, don’t tell me this is your boyfriend.” the gruff voice of the stranger meets both ethan and yours ears.

you open your mouth but ethan beats you to it. “yeah, i am.”

your brows further crease as you gaze up at him. “boyfriend.” you mutter out. “boy friend.” then you realise something, your forehead smoothing. in your drunk state you clued it up to ethan agreeing to being your ‘boy friend’, with that exact space inbetween.

ethan’s grip tightens around your waist as the stranger speaks. “well, your girl seemed to enjoy grinding her ass on me a little too much.”

ethan didn’t like the way he spat the words while holding a smug expression. “she’s clearly drunk, asshole. don’t let it get to your head.” i’d be happy to stab you ten times if you don’t get her out of your head too, ethan doesn’t say.

the stranger scowls but backs up, disappearing into the crowd. ethan immediately turns to you, his breath hitching when he realises how close your watching him. your smile is wide and your eyes wondrous.

“fuck,” ethan mutters under his breath, before he drags you off the dance floor and into the hallway.

you subconsciously brush a strand of hair from ethan’s eyes, and they grow wide in response. he stops, though your grip is still on his arm.

“you ‘av pretty hair.” you nearly giggle.

ethan is focusing anywhere other than your lips, neck or eyes. all things making him slowly lose control. “i do?”

you eagerly nod, as you reach up to run your fingers though it. he freezes, watching you closely. you’re drunk, you’re drunk, you’re drunk. ethan chants this in his head. but then you lean closer looking concentrated.

you run your thumb along his bottom lip, brushing something off, but all ethan can focus on is your face and the feel of your hand. ethan can’t help reaching his own hand forward to brush your bottom lip.

“oh, do I have a hair there too?” you question, about to raise your hand to replace his when he suddenly steps closer, your back hitting the hallway wall. ethan continues to watch your lips as he runs his thumb along the bottom again, and as you open your mouth to speak, he lets it brush past your lips.

his thumb grazes your tongue, as you stare at him. through your drunken haze you close your mouth, your lips wrapping around his thumb almost delicately.

ethan’s breathing turns choppy, his chest heaving up and down as he watches you begin to drag your tongue along his thumb. he steps forward again, now pressing his entire body against yours. he feels as though he’s going to pass out by the way your looking at him. wide innocent eyes, slightly heavy from being drunk. drunk. you were drunk.

ethan pulls his thumb out of your mouth, but he can’t seem to find the strength to step away. you lick your lips free from your spit, and ethan holds back a groan. fuck, he wanted to kiss you.

your hand reaches up to tap under his chin playfully. your mind was a blur. “you taste like alcohol.”

and he looses whatever self control was left as he mutters a ‘christ’ before smashing his lips against yours.

your head hits back against the wall, as ethan’s hands wander your entire body. his tongue is dancing with yours as he explores. he wants to erase every other guys touch. he wants you to only remembers his. but you won’t remember this. your far too drunk. and so, ethan forces himself to break the kiss.

but he ends up just leaving your lips. he kisses your cheek, then your jaw, all the way down to your neck. your hand is back in his hair, making him groan. he laps at your skin, tasting your perfume, as it burns his tongue.

his grip has tightened around you, his head practically burrowed into your neck, as you gasp. “oh, god,” he breathes, getting far too carried away.

his hand drifts down from your hips, under your skirt. gripping your thigh he lifts it over his hip. perfect access as his hand dips down to your panties, rubbing one stripe along your covered pussy. you jolt making him smile. he continues to rub you, trying different pressures. it was torture trying to refrain from ripping your panties clean off. but ethan wanted you to remember this.

as compensation for his restraints he kisses you, hard, as he groans into your mouth, before he pulls away with a bite to your bottom lip.

he pushes himself away from you, setting a good distance to regain control. you touched your lips, before catching his gaze. he immediately looks away, scared he’d repeat what he’d done.

he harshly runs his hands through his hair, as you step forward.

“was it not good?” your question came off so innocent. your state made you have no filter, resulting in you spouting exactly what you were thinking, no room for embarrassment.

ethan’s eyes softened as he caught your gaze. he shook his head. “that’s not why I stopped.”

“oh.” you say with a nod, before looking down to fiddle and straighten your skirt.

fuck, you looked almost sad. ethan felt terrible, wanting so badly to continue. but you would hate him in the morning.

“come on sweetheart, i’ll take you home.” ethan forced himself to say, as he held his hand out.

you quickly look up, with a shake to your head. ethan frowns, stepping forward.

“it’s okay. i’ll get home.” you smile before turning down the hallway and towards the exit.

ethan rushes after you, as you both reach outside. the cold night air contrasted drastically with the humid environment inside.

ethan grabs your arm, making you spin back. you look at him questionably. you didn’t appear hurt or anything which only made ethan’s brows furrow in confusion.

“your not mad at me?” he asks.

“mad at you? why?”

ethan breaths an almost sigh of relief, thinking he hurt you. but then your almost dismissive comment made his heart ache. did you not want to kiss him?

ethan tightens his hold on your arm. “ethan?” you ask. “i’m gonna head home now.”

ethan shakes his head. “i’ll take you.” without leaving anymore room for disagreement, ethan pulls you to his car.

. . .

ethan panted, his face hot under his mask. blood pooled by his feet, as he tilted his head to inspect the dead body. it was a student in the same class as tara. his dad had hoped that this would be a cut too close to home, maybe strike some fear in the carpenter sisters.

he cleaned his knife with one swipe of his gloved hand, before he stepped over the body. he was in an alleyway, halloween festivities easily heard throughout the city. he was prepared to remove his mask when he caught sight of a familiar head of hair.

you walked along the street, gaze distracted by your phone, as you most likely headed home. though a certain part of ethan wanted to make sure you did get home safe, and alive.

quinn had mentioned you as a possible first kill, but ethan was quick to come up with some excuse about how it wouldn’t hurt the carpenter sisters in the way they wanted. even so, ethan was still worried that quinn or his dad might go against his words and choose to kill you in their own time. he couldn’t let that happen.

so, he left his bag to be collected later, and began to follow you.

it wasn’t strange to see a ghostface walking around. it was halloween of course. so, ethan was quick to blend in with the other horror icons.

you skirted past people, reading the messages left by mainly mindy. she was ranting on about who she thought ghostface was. ethan was her top suspect. you had laughed it off, originally thinking how stupid that would be. but soon remembered that anyone could be ghostface, whether they were a tall, intimidating football player, or a dorky kid from econ.

your phone then began to ring. your brows creased not recognising the number. you hesitantly place to your ear, darting your gaze around. “hello?”

“hello, y/n.”

you sucked in a breath. of course it was fucking ghostface. you didn’t slow your steps as you made sure you were continuously around people.

“what do you want?” you ask, keeping your voice steady.

“oh, nothing much, just…maybe your head in a little parcel for your friends to find at their doorstep.”

you gulped down arising vomit, as you tried to look around you. “where would you send it first?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at passing hooded people. “sam, tara and quinn? or would it be to mindy—”

ghostface cuts you off. “what about ethan?”

you clench your jaw. “why ethan?” your steps have hurried.

“why not?” ghostface taunts. “I’d love to see his reaction to your head in a box.”

your breathing has quickened.

“would he scream? cry? or would he feel murderous.” ghostface genuinely sounds as though they’re enjoying themselves.

“ethan wouldn’t kill.”

“I suppose not.” ghostface replies. “I guess that’s more my sort of hobby.”

“where are you?” you ask, seeing too many fake ghostfaces along the street.

you quickly reach your apartment complex, rushing up the stairs before pausing at your front door, keys ready. “where are you?” you ask again. but then they hang up.

you pull the phone away from your ear, breathing harshly. you unlock the door, swiftly re-locking it with a slam. you don’t waste time to run to the kitchen to grab a knife. ghostface could be in your apartment.

holding the knife out and ready, you scrolled through your contacts, calling your friends. not one picked up.

“fuck.” you breath out.

your next contact to try was ethan. but as you were about to press call a smash could be heard from your bedroom.

whipping your head up you gripped the knife a fraction tighter. you weren’t going in there. ghostface would have to come out.

there was a moment of tense silence before another smash was heard, but this time it sounded more like a head was being thrown against a wall. you pause. a head?

you rush to your bedroom door, making sure your knife pointed straight before you turned the handle.

the door creaked open and to your surprise you saw ghostface on the floor, looking either knocked out or dead. you hoped for the latter. but when you raised your gaze you were even more shocked to see another ghostface looming over the previous. their head slowly turns to you and you let out a yelp, shutting your bedroom door in haste.

what the hell? two ghostfaces were fighting? now that you’d never seen before. you backed up as you watched the door handle twist.

“don’t—” you rasp out as ghostface appears in the doorway. they don’t step any further though, just watching you instead. “get the fuck out!” you exclaim.

ghostface tilts his head in an inspection of you. “is that a way to treat your saviour.” ghostface’s barratoned, hidden voice speaks.

“what?” you choke out, still keeping the knife at arms length.

“I can’t say I’ve saved many.” ghostface continues. they step once and you back up.

“your afraid of me?” ghostface almost sounds pleased.

“of course I’m afraid of you.”

“I’m glad.” ghostface nods. “I didn’t want you to act stupid.”

you’ve backed up into the kitchen again as your hip knocks your phone. you remember you were about to call ethan. you quickly grab it pressing call on his contact. “come on, pick up,” you mutter.

then you hear a phone ring. and it sadly wasn’t yours. you freeze, looking up to see ghostface much closer than before. you raise your knife as your ear locks onto where the sound is coming from.

your eyes dart down to ghostfaces hip. buzz, buzz, buzz. “you…” you drift off, darting your gaze back up to their face. “your not…”

your face has fallen as you just stare. then ghostface sighs, bringing out the phone. “I could have stolen this.” ghostface half heartedly tries.

“what…” your words are lodged in your throat. and that’s when ghostface pulls off their mask.

you stare straight at ethan, who’s chest is heaving from the previous fight.

you pause. “huh?” you hip hits against the counter as you keep yourself steady. ethan was fucking ghostface?

he smiles. “hi,” he has the audacity to sound genuine and sweet.

“ethan? You’ve got be kidding me.” you breath out. “w-what?”

“sorry, I didn’t really mean for you to find out this soon.” he shrugs, stepping further into the kitchen and resting his mask on the counter. you back around until your on the opposite side.

“if you didn’t want me finding out, then why did you have your phone in your pocket?” you ask warily.

“maybe…I did want you to find out, just not right here…right now.” he waves his tainted knife in the direction of your room. “that bitch thought it was ok to come kill you.”

“I kissed you!” you suddenly exclaim, just now coming to that realisation.

ethan smirked. “I was hoping you’d remember.”

you shake your head. “no, god.” you mutter, your hand tightening around the kitchen island.

“I’m glad you do remember, because shit did you taste good. even with all that extra alcohol on your tongue.”

you sucked in a breath. “if I would have known you were ghostface—”

“you would have what?” ethan cuts in. “not kissed me?”

“yes!” you exclaim.

ethan tsks, swaying his knife back and forth in disapproval as he nears you. you skirt around the island again, keeping an eye on ethan.

“I was hoping we could do that again.” he begins. “with you sober this time.”

“I’m not gonna kiss you.”

“well that’s a shame.” he rears closer, a quick step away. “but I guess I can kiss you elsewhere.” you back up, as he tauntingly stalks forward.

you shake your head, as he just nods in response. “maybe your neck?” he grabs your shirt, yanking you towards him. you scream before he’s breathing over your mouth.

“or maybe your thighs.”

as you struggle against him, he manages to twist you so that your hips collide with the kitchen island as he grabs your waist.

he leans so close, caging you in. “or maybe I can finally taste somewhere a little more…intimate.” he licks at your earlobe as you struggle against him. he grins before biting your ear. you jolt against him, certainly not used to this version of ethan.

he then leans slightly back to hover over your quivering lips. “or will you let me kiss you?” his voice has turned soft, somewhat pleading.

you breathing stutters as he licks his lips. “how bout I make you deal?”

you catch his gaze. “if you let me kiss you, I’ll leave. I understand it’s a lot to process.” he almost sounds caring and it’s making your head spin.

he tilts his head, his curls bouncing a fraction. “well?”

you gulp, glancing down at his lips. he would leave.

“how do I know your not lying?” you whisper.

“because I just saved you from getting murdered.” he pauses, reading your expression. “plus having consent turns me on a little more than not.”

you breath, watching him for a moment. then you find yourself nodding. he’ll leave.

ethan can’t help but smile as he pulls you closer. “thank you.” he whispers, sounding so gentle, before he’s smashing his lips against yours. you lean slightly back as his tongue grazes your own. the force of his desperate kiss forcing you to lean. ethan grabs at your waist, fisting your shirt as he laps at your bottom lip and tongue. you move your head with his, finding a passionate rhythm.

ethan groans into your mouth as you both become just teeth and tongues. he finally pulls away, breathless.

you breath heavy as you place your hands behind you on the counter. both of your chests are heaving, but just as ethan had said he backed away, grabbing his mask and placing it over his head again.

•

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holly ~ fuck I’m starting too many new stories. I need to finish part two’s. ahhh

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so unswag of the batman to use edward nashton instead of edward nygma for the riddler. oh i'm sorry you're okay with the man dressed up as a bat but you draw the line at the riddle man being named e. nygma. absolutely bitchless behaviour