Masky x reader

Ch. 3

Masky crept through the door to his and Hoodie's room.
"Checking perimeter again?"
He froze. "Couldn't sleep, I guess," he managed to get out between clenched nerves, not looking at his partner. He could practically feel Hoodie's eyebrow raise at his poorly-concealed lie, but he left it alone.
"Well, I hope you've got enough energy for a mission," Hoodie mused, heading out the door.
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Masky sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. Soon as he got close enough, he fell back on his bed, exhausted.
"Is it just me, or was that guy unusually fast?" He groaned.
"Yeah, he was a bit of a challenge."
Masky checked the time. Quarter to three, about the time most would be getting out of school were it not a Saturday. Saturday, he realized. (Y/n) would probably be at home.
But how do I get past Hoodie and everyone else? Perimeter check won't work every time, Masky thought. Suddenly a thin static interrupted his thoughts; Boss was calling. He looked to Hoodie.
"Looks like boss has got a job for us," he called to his hooded partner.
"Really? I didn't get the call. Maybe he wants you and Toby," Hoodie answered.
"I hope not," Masky groaned. "If it is, I can only hope he won't try what he did last time again."
Hoodie chuckled as Masky left for the boss's office.
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"You did really good! That spinny-thing you did in the middle looked hard, was it hard?"
(Y/n) picked at the hem of her shirt as her mom blabbered on while on the way home from a performance. Her thoughts turned to the masked boy she met last night. No, she thought, not last night. Yesterday afternoon, about this time, too. She recalled what she said to him. Why did she say that? If anyone was in danger in the forest, it'd be her, not a masked man who sneaks in people's rooms in the middle of the night. (Y/n) sighed.
"Is something wrong, sweetie?" Her mom asked, a hint of concern showing in her voice.
"What?" (Y/n snapped to attention. "Oh, no, just tired. That show took a lot out of me." And it certainly doesn't help that I was woken up in the middle of the night by a possible serial killer. And yet, she wasn't afraid of him, and couldn't figure out why.
"That's good. Oh, did you get that history project done? I know you've been working on it for a while," her mom continued, pulling in the driveway.
"Yeah, I got it done. Hey, I'm going to take a nap, got a bit of a headache."
"Okay, just make sure you drink some water, don't want to get dehydrated!"
(Y/n) was already up the stairs. She flopped on her bed sideways and pulled out a small notebook from under her bed.
I know I can't draw, but it might come in handy later if I have some sort of written description of him, she thought. She tapped a pencil to her chin in thought.
"Let's see," she said to herself, "brown hair, Caucasian, about 5'9"?"
(Y/n) wrote as she spoke, then paused to yawn. "Maybe I should get some sleep in, in case he comes back tonight."

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Thanks to @ToxiicOpal for the motivation to keep writing, I love it when readers let me know they appreciate my work!
~ Vanilla