hey how are you doing? I just wanna say I love your posts and if you have the to can you make a post on what f reader and what the whc boys would wear for Halloween.
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matching halloween costumes with whc boys
recommended song to listen to while reading
——> eyes without a face - billy idol
⤷ summary: request above^^
⤷ contains: matching costumes, teasing, flirty touches, compliments, lingering glances, quiet protectiveness, playful jealousy, and shared excitement while getting ready, an attached photo
⤷ pairing: whc boys x reader
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𓉸 ࣪⊹˚. Yeon Si-eun — Pennywise & Georgie
When you first bring up the idea, Si-eun blinks once and looks at you with that quiet, slightly confused stare of his.
“Halloween party?” he asks, voice calm, curious.
“Yeah,” you say brightly, leaning across the couch. “And I want us to match. I already have an idea.”
“You’ll be Georgie,” you announce. “And I’ll be Pennywise.”
He stares for a beat longer, like he’s trying to understand the logic behind your enthusiasm. “…Why?”
“Because it’s cute!” you insist, grabbing his sleeve. “Please? Just this once, Si-eun.”
There’s a long pause. His lips part slightly, then close again. He doesn’t say yes — but he doesn’t say no, either.
Finally, he exhales softly. “You really want this?”
You nod, eyes wide, and he looks away, muttering, “Fine.”
You grin so wide it makes him sigh again, but he doesn’t fight it. And when the day of the party comes, he actually wears it — the yellow raincoat, the little paper boat tucked into his pocket. You’re so thrilled he almost smiles just watching you spin in your costume.
While you’re finishing your makeup, Si-eun lingers by the door, hands in his pockets. You can feel his gaze on you through the mirror — steady, thoughtful, quietly captivated.
“What?” you ask, smiling as you paint the red streaks across your cheek.
He blinks, caught off guard. “Nothing.”
But his voice softens, eyes following the careful movements of your brush, the way you purse your lips in concentration.
When you stand up, fixing the ruffles of your corset, he steps closer. Without a word, his fingers reach up, pulling the top edge of it up just slightly.
You raise a brow. “Si-eun?”
He doesn’t meet your eyes. “It’s—” he clears his throat lightly, “It’s a little low. People will stare.”
You can’t help but grin. “You mean you’d stare.”
He gives you a look that’s equal parts exasperated and shy. “Let’s just go.”
At the party, he stays near you — quiet as always, but every time someone compliments your costume, you catch him glancing at you from the corner of his eye.
When someone jokes that he makes a “cute Georgie,” you laugh, but he only looks at you — the faintest smile ghosting across his lips.
And for once, you realize that even though he still doesn’t get Halloween, he gets you.
𓉸 ࣪⊹˚. Ahn Su-ho — Alfred & Remy
When you bring up Halloween, Su-ho’s first reaction is pure confusion.
“It’s almost Halloween?” he asks, mouth full of chips.
You blink at him. “Yes, Su-ho, it’s in two days.”
He shrugs, leaning back on your couch. “Huh. Didn’t notice.”
You roll your eyes, pulling out your phone. “We’re doing matching costumes this year. I already promised the group we’d come together.”
“Matching?” he repeats, tilting his head.
“Yeah. We need something fun. Something people wouldn’t expect.”
You sit together scrolling through Pinterest, your head resting against his shoulder. Every few minutes, he hums approvingly at some post that has food in it.
“You’re not even looking at the costumes,” you groan.
“I’m hungry,” he says simply. “Everything looks good.”
You turn to glare at him, and he gives you that lazy grin. “I mean, we could just dress as food. You’d look good as pizza.”
You’re about to throw a pillow at him when an idea hits you. “Wait. Food—Su-ho. Ratatouille.”
He blinks. “The one with the rat and the chef?”
“Exactly.” You grin. “You’re Alfred, and I’m Remy.”
There’s a pause — then he starts laughing, bright and genuine. “You? As the rat?”
“Yes! You’re the chef, I’m the rat who controls you. It’s perfect.”
He keeps chuckling but finally nods. “Alright, alright. You win.”
The day of the party, you regret how good he looks in the chef’s outfit — rolled-up sleeves, apron, hair a little messy. You’re sitting at your vanity fixing your makeup when you feel him come up behind you, his hands sliding gently onto your shoulders.
“You’re way too into this,” he teases, eyes flicking to your reflection.
“You’re just jealous I pull off fur ears better than you pull off an apron,” you shoot back, smiling.
He laughs, leaning closer, his chin brushing your shoulder. “You’re lucky you look cute, or I’d never let you talk to me like that.”
You meet his eyes in the mirror — his expression softer now, amused, but warm.
“Seriously,” he murmurs. “You look amazing.”
You roll your eyes, but your cheeks heat up anyway. “You’re just saying that.”
He smirks. “Nope. I’d say it even if we weren’t going to a party. Especially then.”
It takes you twice as long to finish getting ready because he keeps pulling you close, murmuring compliments between kisses that leave you laughing and telling him to stop. He doesn’t.
At the party, everyone cracks up over your costume duo — him dramatically pretending to cook while you “control” him by tugging on his hat. But whenever your laughter dies down, he looks at you in that way only Su-ho can — playful, but with something real underneath.
And when someone compliments how good you two look together, he doesn’t even joke about it. He just smiles, hand resting on your waist.
𓉸 ࣪⊹˚. Oh Beom-seok — Hogwarts Students
You’re sitting cross-legged on your bed surrounded by costume pieces when Beom-seok finally shows up — late, nervous, and already apologizing.
“I’m sorry,” he says softly. “I had to help with something at the academy.”
You smile, waving it off. “You’re fine, Beom-seok. I was just making sure our costumes matched.”
“Halloween party, remember?” you tease. “You’re Harry Potter, and I’m a Gryffindor student.”
His face goes blank for a second. “Harry Potter?”
You grin, holding up the round glasses you bought for him. “Yep. I already picked your sidekick costume, so don’t even try to argue.”
Beom-seok’s lips twitch into a small smile. “You really planned everything.”
“Of course I did,” you say proudly. “Now come on. Try this on.”
He hesitates, but when you step closer and fix the Gryffindor tie around his neck, you feel him tense up — just slightly — before relaxing again. His eyes dart down to yours, quiet, unsure, but warm.
“You look good,” you say, stepping back.
His ears turn pink. “You think so?”
By the time you both arrive at the party, Beom-seok’s nervousness hasn’t completely gone away. He hovers close to you, fidgeting with his wand prop, glancing around every time someone looks his way.
But then someone compliments your matching outfits — “You two look adorable!” — and you beam, thanking them before looking at him.
Beom-seok’s eyes soften immediately. “You really like this, don’t you?” he asks quietly.
“Yeah,” you say, smiling. “Because you’re here.”
Something in his expression changes — a mix of shyness and pride, like your words anchor him. Later, when you’re sitting on the steps outside for air, he joins you, setting down his beer.
“You know,” he murmurs, voice low, “I never really liked parties before.”
You glance at him. “And now?”
He smiles faintly, brushing a bit of glitter off your cheek with his thumb. “Now I think I like them a little more.”
And as laughter spills out from inside the building, you realize this is exactly how you pictured it — you in red and gold, him in messy hair and glasses, his awkward smile softening every time he looks at you.
Your own little magic, no spell needed.
𓉸 ࣪⊹˚. Park Hu-min — Cupid & Cupid’s Spell
The moment you tell him your idea, he almost chokes on his drink.
“You want me to be Cupid?” he repeats, eyes wide, grin already forming. “As in, the little baby with wings?”
You roll your eyes. “Not a baby, Baku — the concept. You’re Cupid, I’m your spell. It’s cute!”
He laughs, loud and unrestrained. “Cute, huh? You’re just looking for an excuse to make me fall for you again.”
“Again?” you shoot back, crossing your arms.
“Yeah,” he says, leaning in a little. “Pretty sure you’ve already got me under some kind of spell.”
You groan and throw a cushion at him, but he dodges, cackling like it’s the funniest thing in the world.
When the night of the party comes, he’s fully in character — way too into it, actually. The second he sees you walk in, he whistles low and dramatically places a hand over his chest.
“Yah, you can’t just show up like that. You’re supposed to be my spell, not everyone’s.”
“Maybe you should’ve aimed your arrow better,” you tease, but his grin only widens.
At the party, Baku’s energy is unmatched. He’s loud, laughing, dragging you through the crowd, introducing you to everyone with way too much enthusiasm.
“This is my girlfriend!” he declares at least four times, beaming proudly like you two just won an award.
You can’t even be embarrassed — he’s just too funny to stay mad at. Every time someone compliments your matching idea, he says something ridiculous like, “Yeah, I totally came up with it,” just to see you glare at him.
Later, when you finally find a quiet spot outside, he flops down beside you with a sigh, still smiling.
“You know,” he says between breaths, “this might be my favorite Halloween.”
You raise a brow. “Because of the party?”
He shakes his head, turning to look at you. “Because of you. You make it fun.”
You laugh softly. “You say that to everyone?”
“Only the people who actually cast a spell on me,” he replies without missing a beat.
You’re about to fire back another sarcastic remark, but he catches your wrist gently, eyes glinting with that same teasing confidence — except this time, there’s something genuine behind it.
“Don’t look at me like that,” you mutter.
“Like what?” he grins. “Like you’re my favorite kind of chaos?”
You try not to smile, but he sees it anyway, laughing in victory. He leans back, resting his arms behind his head, looking at you like he’s exactly where he wants to be — loud, happy, and completely under your spell.
𓉸 ࣪⊹˚. Go Hyun-tak — Jake & Tricky
When you tell Gotak your costume idea, he laughs so hard he almost drops his phone.
“You want us to be… Subway Surfers?” he says between laughs. “Out of all things?”
“Yes,” you insist, grinning. “It’s fun! And we’ll match.”
He shakes his head, still smiling. “You’re unbelievable. You really woke up and said, ‘You know what’s sexy? Mobile game characters.’”
You throw a piece of popcorn at him. “Come on, it’ll be funny! Please?”
Gotak sighs dramatically, like agreeing to this is the hardest decision of his life. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” he mutters, pointing at you. “But if someone yells ‘Subway Surfers’ at me, I’m blaming you.”
At the party, you already know he secretly loves it. He’s confident, loud, greeting everyone with his usual grin, dragging you along as if you’re partners in crime.
Every time someone recognizes the theme, he laughs and says, “Yeah, we’re running from responsibilities tonight,” which earns him another laugh from you.
You catch him glancing at you more than once, though. Even when he’s joking around with his friends, his eyes find you across the room. When you finally call him out on it, he grins, tilting his head.
“What? Can’t help it. My favorite player’s right there.”
You roll your eyes, but when he throws an arm around your shoulders and bumps your head lightly against his, you don’t pull away.
Gotak’s like that all night — loud, teasing, but also quietly protective. When someone tries to flirt with you, he suddenly appears at your side, cracking a joke but standing just a bit closer than before.
Later, when you’re outside cooling off from dancing, he nudges your shoulder.
“Okay, fine,” he admits. “This was fun. You were right.”
You smirk. “I usually am.”
He grins, reaching over to fix a strand of your hair that’s fallen over your face. “You look good, Tricky.”
You arch a brow. “You too, Jake.”
He chuckles lowly, and the way his eyes linger on yours for a second too long makes you wonder if maybe you’re both running from something else tonight — like feelings that are starting to catch up.
𓉸 ࣪⊹˚. Seo Jun-tae — Cruella & the Dalmatian
When you show Jun-tae your costume plan, he looks completely lost.
“You want me to be… your dog?” he asks hesitantly.
“Not my dog,” you laugh. “A Dalmatian! It’s cute, trust me.”
He blinks. “So… I’m Cruella’s pet?”
“Partner,” you correct, smiling. “It’s a couple costume.”
His ears turn a little red at that word, but he nods quickly. “Okay, okay. I’ll do it.”
On the night of the party, you spot him waiting for you outside, fidgeting with his sleeve. The second you walk up, he freezes — eyes widening just slightly, smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“You… you look amazing,” he says softly, rubbing the back of his neck.
You grin. “You clean up pretty well yourself, Dalmatian.”
At the party, he’s visibly shy at first — staying close to you, glancing around nervously whenever people compliment your matching look. But the more you laugh and pull him into conversation, the more he relaxes.
You two end up sitting together on the couch, watching people dance, when someone shouts, “Cruella and her Dalmatian look adorable!”
Jun-tae laughs quietly. “Guess I make a good pet,” he jokes, voice a little bashful.
You nudge him. “You’re not my pet, you’re my favorite.”
He freezes for a second, then laughs — a small, genuine sound that makes your chest warm.
Later, when you both step outside for air, the moonlight catches on his soft expression. He glances at you and says, “I didn’t think I’d like this much. But… it’s nice. Being with you like this.”
You smile, teasing, “Even if I made you wear spots?”
He grins back, shy but sincere. “Even then.”
And when you laugh, he can’t help but look at you for a little too long — eyes soft, like he’s realizing that maybe he doesn’t mind being your Dalmatian after all.
𓉸 ࣪⊹˚. Geum Seong-je — Ghostface
When you show him your idea, Seong‑je stares at you like you’ve lost your mind.
“Ghostface?” he repeats flatly. “Fuck no.”
You pout. “Come on, it’s matching!”
He crosses his arms, smirk forming. “You want me to walk around in a mask while you look like—” his eyes flick down and back up with a grin “—that? Not a chance.”
“Please, Seong‑je,” you press, tugging at his sleeve. “Just this once?”
He groans, dragging a hand through his hair. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” he mutters. “Fine. But if anyone looks at you for too long, I’m ending the party early.”
As you start getting ready, Seong‑je doesn’t just hover — he’s everywhere. His hands sneak around your waist from behind while you bend over the dresser, adjusting your mask or smoothing your skirt. “There,” he mutters, tugging the skirt slightly so it sits just right, “don’t want someone staring too long.”
When you reach for something on the counter, he steps closer, pressing his body gently against your back, one hand still on your waist, the other brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “You’re… impossible,” he murmurs, voice low, smirk teasing, but there’s that possessive glint in his eyes.
While you put on your makeup, he leans over your shoulder, resting his chin lightly against yours, whispering compliments you can’t ignore. Every brush of his hand on your waist, every subtle touch, makes your heart race — and he notices, smirking like he’s winning some private game.
At the party, he keeps the same teasing, confident energy — but his possessiveness only grows. If anyone dares to look at you too long, he’s right there, hand brushing your lower back, body pressed subtly against yours, murmuring, “Mine.”
Later, when you step outside to catch some air, he follows, mask in hand. His smirk softens just slightly.
“You know what?” he says quietly, hands still on your waist. “Matching with you? Best idea I’ve had in a while. And don’t let anyone forget you’re with me tonight.”
You grin, brushing past him. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
He watches you, smirk softened, satisfied, clearly enjoying every second of being close to you — and making it very obvious to anyone else that you’re his.
𓉸 ࣪⊹˚. Kang Woo-young — Prisoner & Cop
When you suggest the cop-and-prisoner idea, Woo-young grins immediately.
“Finally, a reason to mess with you,” he says, holding up the cuffs with a wink.
Getting ready together, he’s all energy and teasing, leaning casually against the counter or doorway, commenting on your outfit with his trademark smirk.
“That hat makes you look scary enough to arrest me, huh?” he teases, brushing a finger lightly against your shoulder as he points to your costume.
You roll your eyes, laughing. “Scary? Maybe for someone afraid of fun.”
He leans closer, voice low and playful, lingering just a little too near as he fixes a strap or straightens a piece of your costume. “Then I guess I’m in trouble,” he murmurs, letting his fingers brush lightly across your wrist before stepping back, smirk wide.
Every now and then, a hand will linger on your back or arm as he guides you toward the mirror or helps with your shoes — just long enough for you to notice, just enough to make your heart race. He doesn’t hover, but the small, deliberate touches keep the flirtation alive without being overbearing.
When you finally step out together, he’s grinning, eyes sparkling. “Alright, partner in crime,” he says, looping his arm lightly with yours, “let’s see who’s really in charge tonight.”
Even at the party, his teasing continues — leaning close to whisper jokes, bumping shoulders, or nudging your hand gently — all with that confident, mischievous grin, leaving you wondering whether he’s joking or testing just how much he can get away with.
𓉸 ࣪⊹˚. Na Baek-jin — Vampires
When you tell Baek-jin you want to do matching vampire costumes, he looks at you calmly, expression unreadable.
“Do you really want this?” he asks softly, voice low, watching you carefully.
“Yeah,” you reply, smiling. “I think it’d be fun.”
He gives you the faintest nod, almost approving, and a small, private smile tugs at his lips. “Alright. Then we’ll do it.”
When you arrive at your place to get ready, he’s already dressed, standing tall and composed, cape draped perfectly. He watches silently as you fuss with your corset. “Here,” he murmurs, stepping closer. “Let me.”
With careful, deliberate hands, he tightens the corset just enough to sit perfectly, his fingers brushing your sides and back gently. “There,” he says, almost understated, voice smooth. “Better.”
When it’s time for makeup, he doesn’t complain — in fact, he leans in, letting you brush pale foundation over his face. “Careful,” he murmurs lightly, eyes on yours, “don’t make me look ridiculous.”
You laugh softly. “You’ll look perfect.”
He smirks faintly, tilting his head toward you. “You have fun making me look scary, huh?”
“Maybe a little,” you tease, dabbing red across his lips.
He leans slightly closer, just enough for the corners of your fingers to brush his jaw, but doesn’t move away — calm, confident, and letting you take the lead. He watches you carefully, silent except for the occasional low murmur complimenting your precision or teasing your concentration.
Once you’re both ready, he steps back, arms casually folded, eyes scanning you from head to toe. “You look… incredible,” he says quietly, voice smooth but sincere.
You grin, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
He offers his arm, subtle and understated, as you leave for the party. Every movement is deliberate, every glance lingering just long enough to make you feel seen — protective, affectionate, and quietly claiming you as his.
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a/n: ughhh this was so entertaining :o anyways Im so excited for halloween !! I’m going as a black cat and finally I have an excuse to drink again 👀
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