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#[Horrendous Halloween!]
ivygeorgi · 6 months
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I'm a bit late but Happy Halloween! Here's some vampire Dagcup for the (blood)thirsty shippers! 🦇
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rosiethedragongeek · 6 months
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So, Halloween is getting closer, and I thought it'd be fun to talk about what I think the gang would dress up as for Halloween
*when I say football I mean American football lol
Hiccup: I feel like he'd have a pretty simple, low effort costume, but he'd rock it. I'm leaning towards something like a super basic vampire costume. Dress shirt, nice pants/shoes, little cape, plastic vampire fangs, etc. But like, and I cannot stress this enough, he looks. so. good.
Astrid: Similar chill vibes as Hiccup, and I think she'd also go for something classic like a witch. But she kinda does it in her own style if that makes sense, short skirt, tights, boots, etc etc. (Also a witch hat and a broom bc duh). Bc this is a modern au, she steals Toothless from Hiccup (bc he's a black cat) and they're inseperable
Snotlout: The first thing my mind goes to is a football* player? Sports jersey, athletic shoes (wtv football players wear lol). I'm kinda between that or like a really slutty pirate vibe.
Fishlegs: He does those costumes that are like, puns or like, plays on words. Like like, when people dress up as a cookie and wear a pair of glasses and then they're a 'smart cookie' or wtv? Yeah, that's Fishlegs. He also gives bee vibes idk. Striped shirt, headband w antennae, wings, the works.
Ruff & Tuff: Definetly do coordinated costumes. I like the idea of them dressing up as Frankenstein (Ruff) and Frankensteins monster (Tuff). They go ALL OUT every year, never dress up as the same thing twice, oftentimes have multiple costumes in the day (and wear them before and after Halloween bc what else are they supposed to do lol). They probably make the costumes themselves. They totally dress up as clowns sometimes. (I redact my previous statement that they never wear the same thing twice; they DEFINETLY have costumes that they came up with specifically to freak certain people (Snotlout and Fishlegs mostly) out, which they can be counted on to wear at LEAST once a year)
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miamierre · 1 month
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strollonso + teeth
If you'd told the Lance of five years ago that he would be here right now--back flat against a tall marble pillar in the middle of a midnight-dark graveyard with a stranger bearing down on the exposed skin of his neck--he...well, he might have believed it, considering the tendencies he'd had when he was still in school and putting out for every older rich man in the area that bothered to buy him a couple drinks.
But contextually, he certainly wouldn't have believed it: and really, there's no explanation that could make it believable in the slightest, considering the way Fernando's sharp teeth are glinting in the moonlight spilling through the branches of the dying willow tree towering over them like the moon is trying to emphasize how they're not just teeth but fangs.
Fangs--like vampire fangs, a discovery he'd made about five days prior and has been thinking about it ever since, the idea of his favorite (and hottest) coworker on the night shift sinking a bite into Lance, breaking skin and entering his body in a way more intimate than he'd ever imagined anyone doing--
"Eres tan hermoso pequeño," Fernando practically growls, nose bumping just under Lance's ear as his mouth presses lightly to graze his neck and knocking Lance out of his own head as he shivers against the marble. It's insane, how much he wants this: how it's consumed him entirely, had him up into the early hours of the morning when he should've been sleeping looking into vampirism in other species and not even bothering to open a private browser, how he'd touched himself thinking about this man hovering over him in bed and flaying him open like a creature of the night.
"Fuck," Lance gasps when the older man's lips purse gently to press an innocent-seeming kiss to his jugular, tongue slipping out and leaving behind just enough wetness for the night air to breeze across it and draw another shiver out of him, "Nando, please."
send me a ship and a word and i'll write you five sentences <3
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wickedcriminal · 2 years
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🍂 Dragons and cranberries, it must be fall 🍂
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toyybox · 7 months
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Spiderwebs #13: Tape VI (Sugar-Coat)
Masterlist
content: lab whump, captivity, immortal whumpee, death wish
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Jackie awoke to silence.
He realized that the lights were out. He didn’t turn the lights off last night—forgot to, honestly. Heather must have checked up on him at some point, but she had left without saying a word. That meant there was no new experiment. Yet. 
He didn't like the thought of her watching him sleep. He hoped—no, he wasn’t—well—
Better not to think about it. He was being paranoid. Old habit, paranoia, one that had protected him back then but was useless now. A burden that served only to haunt him. After all, what reason would she have to try anything? Why would she? 
He felt sick at that thought. There was no other way to describe that emotion—he didn’t want another way to describe it. Better not to think about it. Don’t think, don’t even imagine. What happened to that? Jackie had gotten so good at not thinking about it. Why did he have to slip up now? 
The trick was to distract yourself. Jackie got up out of bed, untangling himself from the covers. He turned the lights on. The items he requested were still on the nightstand. Oliver Twist sounded boring. He could read later. What Jackie wanted was the notebook and pen.
He sat back on the bed and took the pen, clicked it open. He took the notebook and spread it to the first page. A blank page, what a wonderful thing. He hadn’t drawn anything since coming to Heather’s house. Make no mistake—he wasn’t an artist by any means. Still, he liked to draw, the way a puppy liked to chase its tail. It was pointless, but fun. It occupied his hands and his thoughts better than anything else. 
The pen wrote smoothly, despite being a cheap thing of plastic. The ink came out thick and deep black. He scratched in a few lines before the door opened. 
“Sleep well?” 
Heather wasn’t holding a scalpel, which was nice. She instead held a piece of paper and the tape recorder. That all-knowing, eternally waiting thing. The only other witness. She also had a book bag slung around her shoulder.
“Slept great.” Jackie placed the book and pen into a nightstand drawer. 
“Don’t put the pen away.” The tape recorder clicked to life, an action that was starting to irritate Jackie. “We’re doing something more relaxed today. I thought I should give you a break. And we’ve already covered the basics.”
“Sure.” Jackie took the pen out of the drawer. 
“Right, so… you can sit there.” She pointed to the writing desk. “Take the paper and write something.”
He took the sheet of paper. “What should I write?”
“Whatever you want. Nothing inappropriate, of course.”
Jackie did as she asked and sat down to write. He was still too fuzzy from sleep to think of something clever, so he stuck to the basics—the quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog.
Heather watched over his shoulder. “Subject has not lost their fine motor skills, despite their severe injuries. You have nice handwriting, by the way.”
“Thank you.” He put the pen down. “Was that it?”
“I need you to answer a few questions first. How is your pain now? Using the scale of ten, again.”
“One or two.” 
“How have the scars healed? Are they still there?”
“They’re still there. Healed fine.”
“I see.” She then brought a thick journal and a much nicer fountain pen out from the book bag. “Now, I never got an answer to those questions. Age, family, and birthplace, please.”
“Why does it matter?” Jackie didn’t want to answer. Where were those fighting words he wielded only weeks ago? Answering honestly felt like giving up. 
Heather didn’t register this comment as rude or snarky, although it was his intention. “It’s good to have that information later on, for my studies. In case I ever need it.”
“Let me guess. If I don’t answer, you’ll torture me?”
She looked up from her journal with an amused, yet puzzled, expression. “It’s only three questions.”
“Will you, though?”
“Torture is a strong word.” She tapped her pen against the journal. “I can take away your privileges. Would you rather sleep on the concrete?”
Jackie almost said yes, asshole, I’d rather sleep on the floor than be your lab rat, but that wasn’t a good idea. He needed to gain her trust. He needed to be patient.
“Why didn’t you say so?” he replied, forcing the enthusiasm into his voice. “I’m Jackie Rockwell, age twenty-one. I don’t remember my family’s names. I was born in Washington. I’ve lived here my whole life.”
Heather scribbled something down in the journal. “What do you mean, you don’t remember their names? Do you have memory issues?”
Absolutely not. He was not discussing this, not with her. “No, my memory’s fine. It’s a long story. We don’t talk anymore. Most of them are dead, anyway.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.” She looked more relieved than anything—probably happy that nobody would notice him gone, that sick freak—but she didn’t push the topic, at least. “Let's move on to the next question. Before all this, were you aware of your immortality? Or any sort of advanced… I don’t know, healing?”
“Not the immortality,” he said. “I guess I’ve healed pretty quickly my whole life. Never had any health issues. Never gotten sick before. I’ve got a good immune system.”
This all must have been fascinating, because Heather was writing like there was no tomorrow. “Never gotten sick? At all?”
“Yep, pretty much.” His usage of the term was strictly metaphorical.
“How curious.” She scratched a final sentence into her journal. “You don’t know why you’re immortal, I assume?”
Jackie nodded. 
“That’s fine. We’ll find out eventually.” 
Not if I can help it. “Are there any more questions?”
“No.” Heather opened the book bag up and stuffed her journal back inside. “What do you want for breakfast, by the way? I can make eggs again. I have cereal. If you want something specific, I can go buy it.”
“Cereal is fine, thanks.” 
Heather nodded and hurried up the stairs. The door opened, then it closed. He waited in silence. 
She returned with a bowl of milk and cereal, which he recognized as cornflakes. The spoon stuck out the top. The ceramic was cool in his hands. 
Heather didn’t move. The tape recorder was still running.
“I’ll eat this now, then,” Jackie said.
“Yes. Go ahead.”
He took a spoonful and put it in his mouth. Heather didn’t make any move to leave.
“Are you going to watch me the whole time?” He set the spoon back into the bowl with a tautness in his movements. It clattered against the smooth surface.
“Yes, that’s the plan.”
“The plan.” He placed the bowl onto the writing desk. “I’m not hungry anymore.”
She took the bowl and shoved it into his hands again. “You need to eat.”
“No.” He handed the bowl back to her.
“Jackie.”
“What?” he snapped. “I’m sorry I don’t want to be drugged again. I’m not hungry. Leave me alone.”
“That was one time. Did I drug your breakfast yesterday? Or the day before that? Or the day before that, even?” She took his hand and placed it on the spoon. “There’s no sedatives in this. Trust me.”
Trust. Like they were friends. Like he could afford to have trust. Unfortunately, it was eating the damned cereal or getting shoved into a freezer. Either way, she had a point. Nothing else he ate had been drugged, not since that fateful first escape attempt. 
But he wasn’t giving in that easily. "Do you have to stand there while I eat?" 
"Yes. Is there a problem?"
His grasp on the spoon was deadly. He considered chucking it at her head. Considered being the key word, because he was certain that freezers were much more uncomfortable than basements. "The problem is that it's creepy."
"Oh, calm down." She rolled her eyes. "You’ll be fine. Just eat."
It was a struggle not to throw the spoon now, but he managed. Instead of using it as a projectile weapon, he began to eat the cereal. It wasn’t particularly delicious. Kind of bland. Still, he hadn’t eaten anything else that morning, so he didn’t dislike it. All the while, Heather stared at him with growing curiosity.
Halfway through, he stopped. "What’s your problem?"
She shook her head a little. "Nothing. It's nothing. Carry on."
He continued, but not before giving her another scathing glare. He ate the cereal without any further problems. Other than whatever was going on with his captor, of course. She was looking at him like he was sprouting daisies from his mouth. Had he done something wrong? Maybe she was losing her grip on reality—it wouldn’t surprise him, to be honest. 
She checked her watch. It, too, was expensive, the face inlaid with what looked like real diamonds, the strap woven of solid gold. A small smile shadowed her face.
"What's happening?" He leaned forward a bit, trying to catch a glimpse of the time. Eleven o'clock. That number was meaningless to him. 
"Nothing. Nothing's happening. That's what's so interesting." She tried to stifle that smile by biting her lip, though it still managed to crack through. "Subject—"
"What do you mean, subject?' He leaned back, his posture sharply upright. "I thought the experiments were over."
Now she was—she was having a seizure? Choking to death? No, she was laughing. Laughing. Because he ate a bowl of cereal. It was quiet, muffled through her attempts at keeping a straight face, but nonetheless audible. 
"Subject—" She took a deep breath, and her voice returned to normal pitch. "Subject can survive lethal doses of poison. Enough dosage to kill ten people, ap—apparently." Another fit of giggles. "It's—oh my God, I'm sorry, I just—"
"Heather!" He scowled as she grinned even harder. His voice took on a flustered, awkward pitch. "You said this wasn't drugged! Hey! Stop laughing at me!"
"I'm not—I'm not laughing at you—" She covered her face with one hand. The laughter ceased, unsteadily, the way ocean waves gradually crashed into gentler and gentler motions, cut through with brief fits of coughing. "I wasn’t—I didn't lie, did I? There weren't any sedatives. It was just arsenic."
"Arsenic?"
"Just a little bit!"
"Enough to kill ten people?"
"Don't sound so offended." Her hand dropped to her side. She was still smiling. "You're fine, aren't you? You're perfectly fine. God, Jackie, you really are a miracle."
He didn't know how to reply. He could see the comedy in the situation, yes, but his bewilderment at her sudden amusement and his ire won over. Why ire, he wondered, when he expected some sort of betrayal? Maybe a part of him wanted to be proven wrong. Maybe he wanted to finally trust, finally let his guard down, ridiculous as that was. Maybe he just didn't like being laughed at for not dying.
"Well, then, I suppose I can cross poison off the list. Experiment concludes here." She took the recorder and turned it off. Her face was a little flushed. From laughter, most likely, or maybe even embarrassment. Giggling was unprofessional, as Heather would put it. Doctor Moreau probably never giggled. Especially not at his Hyena-Swine. She swallowed, setting her face back into neutral. Then, she stood straighter, cleared her throat, and took the empty bowl from his hands.
"Where did you even get enough arsenic to kill ten people?" Jackie asked, ending the lingering break in conversation. 
"I have my ways." Her head tilted a little at his expression. "Come on, I needed to test it somehow. Would you rather I force feed you arsenic?"
"I don't care. It’s not like I get a choice, anyway." 
He wanted the words to scrape her, cut deep into that guilt he'd seen before. It didn't work. She got up and walked away instead. 
"I'm glad to see you're catching on." Heather placed her hand on the door handle. "I'll be back in a few days. Yell if you need anything."
"You better not forget my lunch.”
"I'll set an alarm, don't worry." She waved his concerns away with her other hand. "I'll bring your dinner as well. Or supper."
“You’ll bring me dinner? Or supper? Bless your heart. What did I do to deserve such mercy?” He stood up with an affronted stiffness. “Honestly, this sounds like a lot of trouble for nothing. You wouldn’t even need to set any alarms if you just—“
“Spare me your escape plans.” She slipped through the doorway. “Don’t break any furniture, by the way. I’m not replacing that bed.”
“Oh, yeah? Well—“ Heather was gone before he could finish that clever retort. 
The lock clicked into place. A strange, echoing feeling struck a chord in his chest. He wanted to be left alone, yes, but not alone in the basement. Not in the eternal stillness of what was really a sugar-coated cell, stagnant and stuck in place until she decided to visit him again. He walked up to the door, hesitating all the while, listening to the sound of her retreating footsteps with bated breath. 
“Heather!” He knocked on the door, at last. “I need something. Get back here.”
No response, even as he repeated his call once more, then twice more, then a reluctant third time. His captor had failed to realize that it was difficult to hear anything behind a locked door, unless you were close by. Heather must have already reached another floor by then. She, unlike him, was free to move, free to leave, free to indulge whatever whim struck her. 
Otherwise, she had heard him clearly, and had simply chosen to ignore him. It wasn’t hard to believe.
Jackie turned back to his room—not his room, just the room he was locked in, Jackie reminded himself—as the feeling rose in pitch, plucking every taut sinew in his body. He could draw, or he could read, or he could scream into a pillow. He could think about things, talk to himself. He could break every single piece of furniture in there, just because. He could let the tap run until the whole place was flooded. He could throw his comb at the walls until it snapped. But he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to do any of those things. He didn’t want to do anything at all.
What did he want? To die, of course, but other than that? Sleep was the closest thing. It was good enough. A few hours of forgetting. He could escape the concrete floors and blank walls, if only until he woke up, if only in his dreams. 
He collapsed into bed with a small groan. All things considered, it had been a good day, but it had exhausted him nonetheless. A break from reality would be more than welcome.
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happy Friday the 13th! :)
Taglist:
@theelvishcowgirl
@lthrboy
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readtilyoudie · 7 months
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He gestured to his stomach, from where the voice could still be heard singing, though more and more faintly.
‘Humans can be bland, but if you have some salt to hand, A little bit of brine, will make them taste divi-I-I-I-ne…’
‘That PARTICULAR supper,’ said the Dragon, ‘that you hear singing now, was a dragon rather smaller than me, but very full of himself. I ate him about half an hour ago.’
‘Isn’t that cannibalism?’ asked Hiccup.
‘It’s delicious,’ said the Dragon. ‘Besides, you can’t call an ARTIST like myself a CANNIBAL.’ He sounded a bit exasperated now. ‘You are very rude for such a small person. What do you want, Little Supper?’
How to Train Your Dragon (How to Train Your Dragon, #1) by Cressida Cowell
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flowering-darkness · 1 month
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Hello I'm Having A Vibes Moment and made a render about it
It was started and finished within an hour
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typophobia-hijinks · 6 months
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TRICK OR TREAT ‼‼‼‼💥‼💥‼‼‼‼💥💥💥💥💥
HAPPY HALLOWEEN
HAVE A CARAMELLO KOALA
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berlys-confectionery · 6 months
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I feel like taking over a big city!
Can I FINALLY get a breath attack?!
...no. enough...
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aw-studios · 7 months
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It’s spooky season fellas.
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Also I won’t be fully posting until November because of things going on in my life.
Once we get past Nov 3rd I’ll start.
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deus-ex-mona · 2 years
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If You Don’t Give Me Some Treats, I’ll Fanservice You: Chapter 7
no thoughts, just lipxlip and minami doing that chiisana lion dance while wearing their halloween costumes
previous part (chapter 6)
next part (epilogue)
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When mona alighted from the taxi, and arrived at the venue, late for her performance—.
Aizo: Hey everyone! mona will be here soon, so please listen to our song as you wait for her!
Minami: I never thought that I’d end up singing with the two of you today, though…
Yujiro: Things like this do happen every once in a while, don’t they?! Please listen to “A Small Lion”!
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mona: (...! Minami, and… LIPxLIP?! Why?!)
Live Staff 1: Good work out there, mona! You did your best for the livestream, didn’t you?! Do you mind if we start getting you ready immediately?!
Live Staff 2: You’re here, mona! Can we get you all dolled up right here?!
Live Staff 3: How long does “A Small Lion” last?! Will they be doing an MC segment after that too?!
mona: (Ah… They’re working themselves ragged. I…)
Manager Azumi: Welcome back, mona! You were great on that programme!
mona: Azumi, I…!
Manager Azumi: Put off your worries till later! The staff, along with your co-stars, have been doing their best to stall for you.
Manager Azumi: Hey, hey! Your face is too stiff! You wanna bring smiles to your awaiting fans, don’t you?! 
mona: I do…!
mona: (That’s right… I’m mona, after all! I gotta… bring smiles to everyone’s faces!)
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Aizo: Thank you, everyone!
Yujiro: Hmm… I think she should be ready soon…
Aizo: Eh, mona’s already here?! We could’ve sung one more song if she’d arrived just a little later.
Yujiro: Geez, Aizo. We’re not the only performers for this live, you know?
Laughter erupted from the audience at Yujiro’s quip.
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mona: (Those two really do put up perfect fronts before their fans.)
mona: (I’ll have to thank them… just this once.)
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Yujiro: Come to think of it, everyone’s wearing special outfits for Halloween, no?
Aizo: Right. I’m a werewolf, and Yujiro’s a vampire…
Yujiro: Though, just what are you supposed to be, Minami?
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Minami: Hey! I’m a jiangshi! Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of it?
Minami: You know, guys that move like this!
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The audience cheered at Minami’s imitation of a jiangshi. Their conversation then appeared to have shifted to a discussion about how they could throw Minami’s movements into the choreography of one of their songs.
mona: (Minami’s helping out too… Even though he should’ve been counting the number of sweets he had collected today instead.)
mona: (I’m really… thankful to him…)
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Minami: …Ah! It looks like mona has finished getting ready in the meantime.
Minami: I’ll go get her!
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Minami: mona! Good work today!
mona: Minami… I’m so sorry for the trouble.
Minami: Nah, don’t worry about it. Everyone in the audience had watched the broadcast too. The number of calls for you have been amazing.
Minami: I managed to collect more sweets than you, but… It totally seems like the audience has been waiting for you instead.
mona: Haha, I’m really sorry.
Minami: …Good luck, and give the best performance you possibly can.
mona: Yeah… I’ll be off!
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Yujiro: …Well, I guess we’ll hand it over to mona from here.
Aizo: You’re finally here!
mona: …I’m sorry!
mona took a step out onto the stage, to the sound of loud cheers from the audience.
mona: Thanks for waiting, everyone! I’m really sorry!
mona: I’m really thankful to LIPxLIP, Minami, as well as everyone on the staff for holding down the fort for me!
mona: Hey everyone in the crowd! And everyone in front of their TVs at home! Let’s all have some fun together!
mona: (I’m… only able to be an idol who can spread courage and inspiration to others because of everyone who’s there for me…)
mona: Here I go, then!
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mona’s performance commenced as the music began to play.
mona: (A lot sure has happened today… I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget this performance either.)
To everyone in the live venue, as well as all to of her co-stars. And… to the pair of sisters who were definitely watching the live broadcast of the performance—.
mona: (Here’s… the Halloween pose that Big Sis and I have come up with together, just for today!)
mona: If you don’t give me some treats, I’ll fanservice you!
The resulting cheers from the audience completely enveloped the venue. Riding on the wave of everyone’s feelings, mona continued to sing—.
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thesarkycoder · 2 years
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It's October so you heathen bastards need reminded of the intense psychic damage you can cause if you substitute the boring, pleasant smelling, U-rated pumpkin carving with the hideous, fart-stinking, video nasty tumshie (swede) lantern in your spooky decorations.
I've made a simply infographic:
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SHIT
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GLORIOUS
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shanicetjn · 2 years
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Halloween Exchange Event 2022
Abel - ShaniceTJN Aki - yyoonncc Espen - leo19942 Gaara - ShaniceTJN Legsalotl - mmmlarte Maddy - mmmlarte Naye’fi - regal_stars Quinn Lavern - Clownty_Hunter Reishi - smollestartist
Thank you everyone for participating in my smol Halloween Exchange event. Hope these artworks made your October somewhat tolerable. Thank you so much again, friends! :>
Compiled - 31 October 2022
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valentinesparda · 2 years
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i wanted to gush about f/os tonight but i cannot gather myself to experience temporary happiness outside of being with my partner for the few hours we have every week and i have had an awful negative spoons day so we'll see how tomorrow goes i guess
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star-sim · 4 months
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hopeless ☆ heeseung lee
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☆ horrendously down bad! heeseung x fem! reader ☆ summary: absolutely no one would have expected the dark, brooding, and rough heeseung lee to be hopelessly head over heels in love with the sweet, oblivious you. especially you. even with the help of practically the entire year, it's almost pathetic the way heeseung struggles to utter three, simple words to you, let alone look you in the eye. ☆ genre: fluff!!! pining, SUPER WHIPPED HEESEUNG, high school! au, non-idol! au, a lot of 01 liner idols + the rest of enha make appearances, btw this follows the asian school system, SO MUCH FLIRTING OMG, heeseung is kinda pathetic and awk ☆ warning(s)? swearing and dumb characters lol, there is one SA scene, but it is not graphic + very minor violence ☆ word count: 10.8k ☆ this is extremely based off of "danger" by bts, especially the lyric "you're cute, and i'm pathetic" lol enjoy!
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Heeseung Lee was stressed. 
No. He was distraught. 
Distraught about how fucking cute you looked today.
Ever since he was a kid, Heeseung loved Halloween, because he loved Trick-or-Treating with his older brother and cousins. However now, at the age of seventeen, he found himself resenting it. Not because there was any issue with the holiday, but because today was Halloween. 
From across the classroom, Heeseung found himself staring, all dazed and empty-headed, at you, who was clad in your cute bunny costume. The way the fluffy, white ears stuck out from the top of your head, as well as the fluffy white coat draped around your shoulders, made you look so soft and cozy and adorable. The way your nose crinkled as you laughed with your friends, sweet sounds coming from your lips as you threw your head back. 
Were you real? How could anyone be so goddamn beautiful and not be an actual angel sent from above? What country did Heeseung save in his past life in order to get to be in your presence in this life?
"Dude, you're staring," a new voice interjected.
"What?" Heeseung tore his eyes away from you. "I wasn't."
Beomgyu Choi was one of Heeseung's classmates. And, like everyone else in their year, Beomgyu knew how enamored Heeseung was with you. Other than yourself, of course.
"I'm tellin' you," Beomgyu plopped down onto his seat, which was beside Heeseung's. He slid his chair so that he would be closer to his classmate, before throwing an arm around Heeseung. "You need to make a move. Like, now."
Heeseung glanced over at his classmate. If he ignored the fake blood on Beomgyu's chin, as well as the fake, plastic vampire teeth and the god-awful Spirit Halloween Dracula cape, he'd know that Beomgyu was 100% correct. 
Everyone (and seriously, everyone) knew that Heeseung Lee had the biggest, juiciest, most obnoxious crush on you. In fact, your own friends had even tasked themselves with the job of putting in a good word for Heeseung, saying things like "Isn't he so cool?" into your ear to hopefully guide you straight into his arms. It's such a well-known fact that some of your teachers have purposefully placed you and Heeseung next to or near each other in order to help him with his more-than-obvious crush. 
With such a big, school-wide effort, it should be expected that at least some progress was made.
Wrong!
Not even a single stroke of progress has been made.
Probably because there was one teensy, weensy, eensy, problem: Heeseung was an absolute mess around you. Heeseung was known as this tall, blunt, and rough guy at school. When he wasn't silently judging everyone, he hung out with his group of friends, who had a reputation for being delinquents. Heeseung Lee, clad in his iconic black leather jacket, was intimidating, and usually had no problem speaking up for himself. But around you? Absolutely not.
If anyone thought that Heeseung Lee could easily speak to you, they were out of their goddamn mind. There were too many instances where your classmates would push Heeseung and you together, only for him to blow it because he was completely incapable of looking you in the eye without turning red. 
In Heeseung's defense, you were the most beautiful person in the world— How is he not supposed to get nervous?
"You know I can't," Heeseung murmured, clenching his fists.
Beomgyu rolled his eyes. "Whatever, Hee. What happened to banger Heeseung Lee? Heeseung Lee that beats up kids? I didn't think you'd be scared of talking to girls."
"First of all," Heeseung frowned, "I'm not a banger and I don't beat up kids. And also, I'm not scared of talking to girls."
His classmate quirked a brow. "Really?" Heeseung nodded. "Because the last time I remember, you could barely get a word out in front of [Name]."
At the sound of your name, Heeseung jerked in his seat, reaching out to grasp Beomgyu's arm. "Shhhh, don't say her name so loud!" he hissed, eyes quivering over to where you were with your friends.
"What?" Beomgyu looked around indiscreetly. "It's not a secret to anyone how you feel about [Name]."
"Shhhh! Shut up!"
When the bell rang, everyone scurried to their seat, and class began. As Beomgyu tuned out the sound of the teacher's voice, he couldn't help but notice the way Heeseung's eyes were completely glued to you. It was almost laughable, the way the boy's eyes were wide, staring at you like you were some god.
Oh god, Heeseung Lee was hopeless.
"Heeseung-hyung, are you free tomorrow?"
It was lunch time. Heeseung and his friends liked to hang around the rooftop of the school, because it was always empty. And plus, no one wanted to be where Heeseung and his friends were— they were too scary!
Heeseung looked at his younger Australian friend, Jake Sim (or Jaeyun Sim, as his official documents stated), who had just asked that question. Heeseung took a bite of the instant ramen that they bought from the vending machine.
"Yeah, why?"
"Good. Because you have a date with [Name] tomorrow."
Heeseung choked. As he coughed, his other younger friend, Sunoo Kim, let out a whine.
"Hyuuunggg!" Sunoo pouted. "Why'd you tell him?"
"It was supposed to be a surprise!" Riki Nishimura, the group's Japanese foreign exchange student friend, added, elbowing Jake in the ribs.
"Whatever," Jake crossed his arms. When Riki nudged him again, Jake opened his mouth to holler, "Jay, back me up!"
Jongseong "Jay" Park was another one of Heeseung's friends, probably the closest person to him. 
"You guys know Heeseung-hyung is going to fuck it up either way, right?" Jay said. "Remember last time?"
"Yeah," Sunghoon Park joined in. "No matter how much we prepared him, Heeseung-hyung still acted like a fucking idiot."
"I'm right here!" Heeseung shouted, still hitting his chest to dislodge the ramen that he choked on. 
Jungwon Yang, the seventh person in their friend group, put a hand on the older boy's shoulder, his lips lifting up into a half-teasing grin, revealing sharp canine teeth, "Hyung, don't listen to them. I think you'll really impress [Name] tomorrow."
It was Heeseung's turn to elbow Jungwon in the ribs.
When Heeseung finally finished coughing up a storm, his friends were already onto another topic, making plans for the next weekend.
"Hey, hey!" Heeseung grumbled. "Aren't you guys going to explain this so-called 'date with [Name]'?"
"What's there to explain?" Riki said. "You're going on a date with [Name]. End of story."
The eldest of the group's face contorted. "What are you guys even saying—"
"Well, it's not technically a date," Sunghoon said, taking a sip of his juice box. "You're, like, hanging out with [Name] though."
That still didn't answer Heeseung's question. 
"When? Where? What time?" he spluttered, eager for answers.
Jake huffed exasperatedly. "Do we have to explain to you everything? It's not that deep, man."
Jungwon rolled his eyes. "Hyung, [Name]'s friends are the presidents of the Environment and Ecology Club, and there's a social tomorrow. It's like birdhouse painting, or something. [Name] is attending to support her friend, so we signed you up, too."
"Birdhouse painting?!" Sunoo's features morphed into confusion. "I thought they were making bracelets?"
"No, I thought there were weaving baskets?" Riki frowned.
"Whatever it is, it sounds lame as hell," Jay remarked.
Jungwon rolled his eyes again, earning a punch on his arm. "Whatever it is, it'll be a great opportunity for you to talk to [Name]." 
The younger boy offered Heeseung a reassuring smile, only to receive a pensive one in return.
When classes resumed, Heeseung felt light-headed and distracted the entire time as he processed the fact that he was going to be around you tomorrow.
Oh god, he sounded like a total loser. Did the mere thought of being in your presence make him nervous? Yes, yes it did. You were just so pretty and sweet, he had no idea what to do. Poor boy, his teeth dug into his bottom lip, clammy palms pressing into the underside of his desk. His knee bounced, and there was absolutely no way that he could even make out a single word the teacher was saying.
Heeseung was going to pass out. 
"Hey, Heeseung?"
That's your voice. It was so pretty and nice on his ears. Was he in heaven? He wouldn't be surprised if your voice was the voice of an angel.
"Heeseung?"
Heeseung was convinced that he was in heaven now. What he wouldn't do to hear your voice every second of his life.
"Heeseung!" another voice interjected. That's what snapped Heeseung out of his daze. Too deep in his head, Heeseung hadn't noticed that the class period ended, and the short passing period had already begun.
At his desk stood Yunjin Huh, Minjeong "Winter" Kim, and... oh my god... you. The three of you had somewhat matching Halloween costumes: Yunjin was a gray mouse, Winter was a cat, and you were a bunny. And now that he looked at it, you all were holding a bag of candy.
While your two friends were giving him the"Are you serious?" looks, you looked at him with wide, kind eyes.
"Heeseung?" your beautiful voice said, fingers reaching into the candy bag that you were holding. "Would you like candy?"
He stared at you. You were giving out candy to everyone in class because it was Halloween... You're such an angel... What did the world do to deserve you...
Winter stepped on Heeseung's foot, snapping him out of his daze once again. The boy let out a small yelp in pain, and as the embarrassment settled in, he heard you let out a small giggle, lips raising up to show off your teeth.
Oh my god, he was going to die.
"Y-Yeah," he stammered out, cursing himself internally. Heeseung couldn't help but feel everyone in class's gaze glued to him. When you handed him a piece of candy, your hand brushed up against his. Heeseung could feel his ears becoming hot, the warmth rising to his neck.
You smiled at him, before saying in a sing-songy voice, "Happy Halloween!"
Heeseung had to force himself not to stare like an absolute fool.
He was really hopeless.
hee: jay i don't think i can do it tomorrow
It was 2AM when Heeseung texted Jay. He spent the entire night thinking about the "date" (probably the least necessary word at the moment), and he simply couldn't sleep.
Heeseung had embarrassed himself too many times in front of you. Like that one time you and him were on cleaning duty together, and he was so distracted by you that he tripped over a bucket of water. Or that one time he sat next to you for a few weeks and his shoes kept squeaking against the floor, making it look like he was farting. Or when he tried to look cool and suave in front of you at some social your friends invited him to only to rip a hole in his pants. And then what happened today... He could not embarrass himself again.
hee: like i think i'm going to die if she sits next to me tomorrow
It was only a matter of seconds when his friend texted back.
jay: you'll be fine trust
Heeseung frowned.
hee: stop lying to me
hee: you know how i am around her
jay: i believe in you
jay: like srsly
hee: that's blind faith
Jay typed for a little bit, before stopping altogether. Heeseung huffed. Did his friend just leave him on read? A few minutes later Jay sent a Wikihow article.
'How to talk to your crush,' it was aptly named. Heeseung deadpanned.
hee: are you being fr right now
jay: give [name] your sexy heeseung charm and you'll be walking off into the sunset hand-in-hand with her in no time
jay: read the article btw
How was this guy an actual person?
hee: kill yourself
jay: give her that passionate, sexy, boiling hot, hotter-than-the-sun, steaming hot heeseung that makes her just want to come up to you and give you the fattest, juiciest kiss on the mouth, i know you can do it soldier
hee: DIE
Heeseung couldn't sleep all night.
At school, the entire day was just plagued with anxiety for what was to come. It didn't help that your friends kept turning around and giving him knowing looks throughout the day. When school finally let out, Heeseung went to the classroom where the birdhouse-painting-bracelet-making-basket-weaving social would be held. His friends told him to go there the moment that school ended, but when he came, there was literally no one there.
Until someone yanked him into the classroom.
"Hey!-" he yelped, before the door slammed. In front of him stood two people that he recognized: Sumin Bae and Sieun Park, two of your friends who also coincidentally were the co-presidents of the Environment and Ecology club.
Sumin cocked a brow at him, crossing her arms. "I hope you're not as hopeless as everyone says you are."
Heeseung opened his mouth to respond, but Sieun cut him off.
"Ugh, that doesn't matter," she pinched her nose-bridge. "We told [Name] to sit near the front, so you better sit there, too."
"Right-" 
Sumin cut him off, too.
"[Name]'s favorite color is pink, and her favorite Sanrio character is Keroppi," Sumin asserted. "And she really likes things that are cute, so like fruit patterns, hearts, stars, yada yada."
Heeseung blinked at them. "And this is relevant how...?"
Sumin and Sieun shared a look.
"You are completely hopeless."
As it turned out, they were giving him details about design-elements that you liked, so that Heeseung could somehow impress you with his birdhouse painting abilities (Jungwon was right, it was birdhouse painting). After info-dumping on him, they kicked him out of the classroom to actually prepare for the social.
As Heeseung was pushed out of the classroom, he bumped into someone. Just as he was about to say, "Watch where you're going," he realized that it was you. 
"Oh, hi, Heeseung!" you greet him cheerfully, your eyes pressing into thin slits as you smile. 
Quick! What does he do? "Hi... [Name]."
"Are you here for the social, too?" The way your eyes gazed at him made him feel shy already.
"Y-Yeah...."
"I didn't know you were interested in the Environment and Ecology club..." You remarked, and Heeseung panicked— Was it obvious that he was here exclusively for you?— but what you said next made him sigh in relief. "That's great! I'm so happy that I finally have someone familiar with me here!"
He's going to faint.
When the social began, you invited him to sit next to you. Heeseung felt stiff as he sat beside you, watching the way that you happily painted your small, wooden birdhouse. Heeseung wanted to start a conversation with you, but each time he thought of something to say, his voice caught in his throat. Sumin and Sieun had given him two dirty looks already, so he needed to make a move now or their efforts would be in vain.
"W-What's that?" he finally stuttered out, pointing to the glob of green on your birdhouse. 
You laugh airily, leaning closer to him so that he can see it better. "Can you guess?"
Heeseung tries to concentrate on guessing, but it's hard when you're close to him. Quick! What's green and something that you like?
"Is that... K-Keroppi?"
"Yeah!" Your face lit up, flashing him a cheeky grin. You nudged him with your elbow, raising your brows at him playfully. "Awww, Hee, you smarty pants! How'd you know?"
Hee?
OhmygodohmygodohmygodyoucalledhimHee.
You stopped laughing, pulling away from him. "Sorry, do you not like being called Hee? Beomgyu sometimes calls you that, so I thought-"
"No, I like it!" Heeseung blurted, a little louder than he wanted to, earning a few questioning looks from people around him. The boy felt abnormally warm, embarrassed at his outburst. "I-I'm okay with you calling me that..."
"Noted!" you said, before your lips curled upward. "Now... are you going to tell me how you could tell that this green blob was Keroppi?"
"Oh uhm..." Heeseung's lips were moving faster than his head, "Y-You dressed up as Keroppi last year for Halloween with Yunjin."
Almost like you were a cartoon character, you perked up at his statement. "You remember?"
Of course he did. How could he forget? You wore a cartoonishly-big red bow around your neck like Keroppi, and had a green Keroppi-style headband. You looked adorable, especially when you went around showing off a Keroppi keychain that you got at the Cinnamoroll Cafe in Hongdae to anyone that was willing to listen.
Heeseung found himself chuckling. "Of course I'd remember your massive red bow."
You stared at him for a few moments, before a bashful grin broke out on your face. You then buried your face in your hands, letting out a groan. "Ughhhh, that's so embarrassing!"
"How?"
It's going good so far, Heeseung thought. Just don't mess it up!
You pouted cutely, your bottom lip jutting out. In the light, he could see the gloss shining off of it so prettily. "My makeup was so fucked up last year, ughhh, it looked so bad."
You? Look bad? Impossible.
"What are you talking about?" Heeseung asked, his doe-like eyes scanning your embarrassed face. "I thought you looked cute."
You stared at him. It took a few pulses for Heeseung to realize what he just said. His face instantly turned three shades warmer and panic was evident in his expression.
"I-I mean— You jus—You were really—"
He shut his mouth when you began laughing. Laughing so hard that you clutched onto his knee, keeling over yourself. His cheeks burned.
You're laughing at him, aren't you? Did he fuck up?
When you noticed the sulky expression on his face, you stopped laughing.
"Sorry, Hee," you said, giving his knee a reassuring squeeze. "It's just... You look so intimidating, when you're really just a sweetheart."
If Heeseung was red before, he was quietly literally the color of a tomato. It was a wonder that the entire room’s temperature didn’t rise given the sheer amount of heat radiating off his person.
"A s-sweetheart?"
"Yeah!" you happily respond. "You're just the cutest, y'know? Like a little puppy."
As much as Heeseung wanted to die happily now that you called him cute, he needed to keep this conversation going. Sucking in a sharp breath, the boy looked at you in the eyes. "W-Well I think the same about you... [Name]."
You looked at him curiously, so he continued, his voice soft and sheepish, "I... also think that you're the cutest."
You blinked at him a few times, before the widest smile that he'd ever seen spread across your cheeks, stretching ear to ear. If only Heeseung wasn't too busy grappling with his shyness, he'd notice the way you let out a soft, bashful giggle, shaking your head and squeezing your eyes shut to keep yourself from being too visibly flustered. Slowly, with all the courage that you had left in you, you raised your hand and placed it on Heeseung's head. You ruffled his soft locks, gushing, "God, you're so cute, Heeseung!"
The rest of the social is filled with soft chatter between the two of you, but Heeseung was honestly too captivated by you to notice the time passing. With his heart on his sleeve, and a sloppily-painted birdhouse in his hands, Heeseung mentally high-fived himself.
Heeseung's friends never heard the end of it. The moment that he got home, Heeseung spammed their groupchat, giving them paragraphs and paragraphs of the events that ensued.
hee: and then she called me cute. like CUTE CUTE, not even like she was alluding it, she used the word CUTE
hee: oh my god i think i'm gonna faint
His friends don't have it in them to flame him. After all, this was progress.
Unbeknownst to him, you were feeling the same things. Everyone knew that Heeseung liked you, except yourself. You had the opposite case: you've had the biggest crush on Heeseung since middle school, but never told a single soul about it. You're a naturally expressive and sweet person, so it was so incredibly hard hiding your feelings for him. 
After all, under that handsome and brooding outer shell, you saw his softness. This past year, you've had so many miscellaneous interactions (at least, it seemed miscellaneous-- everyone but you knew that those interactions were set up) with Heeseung. At the beginning of each interaction, he'd act all mysterious, but as time passed, he'd speak so softly and slowly unravel. 
It was so, so cute. Heeseung was so cute. To say you wanted him would be an understatement. No words were sufficient to fully express the nights that you stayed awake thinking about him, or the makeup looks that you intricately practiced to impress him, or the sheer number of times that you had to hide the fact that you were staring at him.
Maybe you couldn't hide it any longer.
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"Wait, what?!"
Heeseung's heart dropped to his stomach the moment he heard the words leave his friend's lips. Chenle Zhong was one of you and Heeseung's mutual friends, and according to him, someone had confessed to you via a letter today.
"Are you serious?" Heeseung asked, pulling his bottom lip into his teeth, chewing pensively. "Do you know who wrote it?"
"Nope, but I'll try to get more info on it," Chenle frowned. "Yunjin says that [Name] laughed at the letter."
When Heeseung didn't say anything, Chenle continued. "Hey, man, that could be a sign, y'know?"
When Heeseung's face morphed into a confused expression, his friend added, "Like, maybe [Name] thinks it's a joke? Maybe she doesn't care for it."
That's what Heeseung hoped for.
Later, Chenle texted him a screenshot of the love letter. To say that Heeseung was appalled would be an understatement. The letter read,
'To my dearest [Name], you're as beautiful as the plum blossoms in the spring. Your lips are soft like pillows, pillows that I would love to fall into an eternal in. I love you, I love you, I'll love you until this paper decomposes and becomes a part of the earth, and maybe then they will be able to force me to forget you. Love, your admirer.'
Heeseung immediately sent it to his groupchat.
jakey: yo who invited shakespeare???
hoon: i had a stroke reading that
sunoo: "your lips are soft like pillows" is crazyyy
hee: chenle gave me updates, apparently [name] knows who the sender is
jay: AND WHO IS THE SENDER??
hee: i don't know
hee: but minjeong says that it's someone from class 2
niki: class 2 is full of snobs
jungwon: i'm still in shock because of "i'll love you until this paper decomposes"
hoon: WHAT IF IT'S JUNGSU HYUNG
niki: oh it's SO over for you heeseung-hyung
As it turned out, it was not, in fact, Jungsu Kim from Class 2, thanks to your friends, who were quite wonderful info-brokers. But he still didn't know who it was.
Laying in bed, Heeseung felt weight on his chest. You laughed at the letter. While that could mean that it was a joke, it could also mean that you thought the person writing the letter was funny... which could mean that you liked them back. Just the mere thought of you with someone else made Heeseung frown deeply. This entire time he was worried about how to act around you, completely ignoring the fact that you yourself could be interested in someone else! God, he was so stupid.
Heeseung needed to know who it was that sent it, and more importantly, if you were romantically interested in them.
Fear makes man do crazy things.
Like walking one's crush to school.
Look, Heeseung was mulling over the situation as he walked to school, when he saw you across the street, walking in the same direction as him. In what could only be called an adrenaline-high, Heeseung ran across the street up to you.
"[Name]!" he called out.
"Heeseung?—Oh my god!"
Poor boy was breathless, flushed in the face. It took him a few moments to catch his breath. Flashing you a grin, Heeseung said, "Let's walk to school together, [Name]."
You're silent for a few moments, before you return the smile. "Of course."
The walk was silent, only the sound of early morning traffic, footsteps against the concrete sidewalk, and the occasional sniffle courtesy of you filling the cold air between the two of you. Speaking of which, your sniffles began to get louder and more frequent. Now out of adrenaline, Heeseung was back to being shy.
Clearing his throat, Heeseung forced his voice out. "Are you— Are you sick?"
You sniffled again, bringing your hand up to swipe your nose. The two of you were at an intersection now, so you pressed the pedestrian button. "No, I just get sniffly when it's cold."
That's. So. Cute. Was what Heeseung was thinking. The way you were rubbing your hands together made you look so adorable, he just wanted to put you in his pocket. 
He must have been staring at you for a while, back in his you-loving daze, because Heeseung did not notice that the streetlight changed, and it was time for the pedestrians to pass.
Not to worry!
Heeseung was completely kicked out of his daze when your smaller hand grabbed his, pulling him along the street. His eyes were glued to the two of your hands, especially where they connected. For someone sniffly, your hands were warm. He liked the way that they fit in his.
Even in the cool morning air, Heeseung suddenly felt warm all over.
You were in the middle of the sidewalk when Heeseung stopped. Feeling bold, he dropped his schoolbag, and began slipping off his thick, black, leather jacket, before draping it over your shoulders. 
When you looked up at him with those curious doe eyes, all his boldness went away.
"Y-You're cold aren't you?" He avoided looking you in the eyes. "Just... Just take it. Y-You can give it back later... or whatever."
You giggled, slipping your arms into the sleeves.
God, you looked so cute in his jacket. Heeseung was going to melt.
And he did melt, because you began doing cute twirls to show off the jacket, posing for him.
"How do I look?" you cheekily asked, popping your leg up. 
Heeseung was speechless, his mouth just left agape. He had to force himself to speak.
"Cute..." he answered, barely audible.
A grin was growing on your face. "Sorry, I didn't hear you. How do I look?"
Heeseung squeezed his eyes shut, huffing. "I said you looked cute!"
The sight of Heeseung's pink cheeks and his cute little pout was enough for you to be satisfied. Before the boy could realize what he said, you picked up his school bag for him, shoving it into one of his hands, before snatching his free hand. You pulled him gently to continue walking, but Heeseung was frozen in place, eyes too busy on you.
"Heeeeee," you elongated your syllables. You squeezed his hand twice, tugging him again. "We can't be late to class, can we?"
Heeseung audibly gulped. "Y-Yeah. You're right.."
You guys began walking again, neither of you wanting to let each other’s hands go.
"And then she held my hand— Isn't that crazy?! She held my hand!"
"Heeseung-hyung, please, I am peeing right now."
It was the lunch period once again. As Heeseung and Sunghoon traversed the hallways to get to the stairwell, the older of two chatted about the events that morning.
"So you held her hand?" Sunghoon asked half-heartedly, barely listening. "And then what?"
Heeseung perked up. "And then we walked to class together, and then she—"
"That's cool and all," the younger friend was walking in front of him. Sunghoon turned over his shoulder. "But did you get any more information about the letter fiasco?"
Oh. 
No, Heeseung didn't.
When they reached the rooftop, his friends gently nudged him to get more information about the letter. 
"You don't want to have one of those 'too late' moments, right?" Jungwon said, chewing on his rice ball. "What if by the time you gather the courage to talk to her, [Name] is already walking off into the sunset hand-in-hand with her secret admirer?!"
"What's with you guys and walking off into the sunset..." Heeseung muttered, running a hand through his hair. 
"I'm serious, hyung!"
"I second that," Jay said lazily.
"I second that," Riki mocked in a squeaky voice, earning him a soft smack at the back of his head.
"Well, what am I supposed to do?" Heeseung asked, frustrated. "I can talk to her or her friends later, but not right now."
Jake scoffed. "What's stopping you from going back inside and talking to [Name] right now?"
The eldest boy didn't have an answer. That's true. There wasn't anything stopping Heeseung from talking to you right now. All the boys were now watching him for an answer, ready to pounce on him for being a coward.
"I don't know!" Heeseung finally said. "I've used up all of my bravery today... I don't think I have it in me to talk to her!"
His friends stared at him questioningly, until the silence was broken by Sunoo taking a loud and very obviously fake phonecall.
"Hi! Yes! Mhm. He's right here. Yeah. Mhm. Thank you!"
Sunoo hung up loudly, and looked at Heeseung with a cocked brow. "I was just on the phone with Yunjin. She says you should probably go talk to [Name]."
Heeseung looked at Sunoo incredulously, but the expectant expressions on his friends' faces made him groan.
"Fine!"
As Heeseung creeped down the school hallway, he came to the classroom that you hung out in at lunch: your homeroom. Standing outside the door, the boy took a deep breath.
Relax, it's just [Name], he had to tell himself, as if that helped at all. What was he even going to say? 
'Hey, are you dating the person that sent you that letter? If you aren't, do you want to get married to me? Haha.'
????
Just as Heeseung was about to slide the door open, he heard a very familiar laugh from inside. Of course he could recognize it. After all, it was you. 
"Yuri is so cute!" he heard you giggle. "She wrote me that little letter as a joke, but I think I'm actually in love with her."
In.
Love.
With.
Her.
"Awww, Yuri, come here and give me a kiss!"
Come.
Give.
You.
A.
Kiss.
"I'm gonna marry you, Yuri!"
Marry.
You.
Yuri.
To Heeseung, everyone was an enemy. No matter their gender or class, the moment that he heard that you got a love letter, everyone became a suspect. It all made sense now. Yuri Jo, the 'Yuri' that you were talking about and to, was from Class 2. He knew that you and her were friends, but he didn't know that you were romantically interested in her. 
Jungwon was right. Now you were going to walk off into the sunset hand-in-hand with her!
hee: guys what if [name] is already taken :(
jakey: what are you on about this time
There was something scary about a 6-feet tall guy mulling around and sulking all day, so luckily no one got in Heeseung's way as he brooded. Unfortunately, he felt his heart hurt whenever he looked at you. Almost cartoonishly, he'd turn away, close his eyes in dramatic pain, and pout. Although he acted a little bit theatrical, it was no doubt that Heeseung felt sad. He really thought he had a chance with you, and now he felt stupid.
Except, he was stupid.
But for a different reason.
"Jesus Christ, you're actually hopeless, Heeseung."
After school, your friends cornered him, somewhere where you wouldn't see. His friends were somehow in close communication with your friends.
"I can't believe you thought me and [Name] were actually dating!"
Heeseung scowled, crossing his arms over his chest, as he leaned against a locker. Before him stood Yunjin, Winter, Yuri, along with a few other of your friends, Hitomi and Minju. 
"I don't know!" Heeseung huffed. "Everyone is an enemy to me—” he glanced at Yuri— “Including Yuri.”
Yunjin scoffed in disbelief. "You're insane."
Soooo... You weren't in any romantic relationship with anyone. Yuri sent you that letter as a joke, and you were just really close to her. Good.
"I don't know how I feel about this guy getting with our [Name]," Winter muttered to Hitomi and Minju, but loud enough for Heeseung to hear.
"Hey!"
"I know, he's a total dumbass," Minju grumbled back.
"Dude, I'm right here!"
Hitomi rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Well, are you free on Friday after school?"
"Yeah, why?" They always asked Heeseung that question when they had some crazy plan up their sleeve. Not like he was any better.
"Wellll," Hitomi began in a sing-songy voice. "[Name] really wants to go to that Cinnamoroll Sweet Cafe in Hongdae on Friday, but none of us are available."
Heeseung nodded slowly. 
"I think it'd be a good way for you to get closer to her, dontcha think?"
And that's how Heeseung scored his first (unofficial) date with you
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When your friends told you that Heeseung would accompany you to Hongdae, you almost jumped for joy. Almost. Friday couldn't come any faster. The plan was that you'd meet Heeseung at the train station at 4:30PM, meaning that you had a bit of time to change and get ready. You didn't want to get too ahead of yourself and call it a date, but oh boy did you want to.
What were you going to wear? What if you were too formal? Should you go for a casual look or something more put-together? You needed to impress him!
When Friday came, you practically ran home to get ready. You perfected your makeup, and put on your prettiest outfit. Spraying yourself with your signature perfume, you looked in the mirror. Hopefully, he'll like how you look. 
At the corner of your eye, you spot a black, leather jacket. His black, leather jacket. Without even thinking, you slinked toward it, slipping into the jacket. It smelled like him, the faint scent of his cologne lingering on the leather.
With a final glance in the mirror, you left for the train station.
On the other hand, to say that Heeseung was nervous for the date was an understatement. His heart was about to fall out of chest. He changed into something more casual, made sure to brush out his disheveled hair, and reapplied his cologne. He came to the train station 20 minutes early, just in case something went terribly wrong. He glanced at his phone. For the date, he managed to get a hold of your number, for “communication purposes.” He’d wanted to text you all week, but didn’t have the courage to.
“Hee?” your soft voice calling his name got his attention. Behold, you standing there before him, all dolled up and pretty. This must be the sight he’ll see when he enters heaven, he thought. 
“Hi,” he said, his eyes glazing over your face. You were so pretty. Did you dress up for him? He didn’t want to get ahead of himself, but the idea that you wanted to look good for him made Heeseung’s heart skip a beat. “You look…”
He didn’t mean to say that. You smile bashfully. “I look…?”
“So pretty,” Heeseung breathed. “You look so pretty.”
“Thank you,” you smile. Your fingers reach for the hem of his shirt, playing with it, which sends his heart racing. “Well, I think you look handsome, Hee.”
“Th-Thanks.”
The two of you stare into each other’s eyes for a few moments, and Heeseung swears that you’re looking at his lips. You spoke up, breaking the silence. “You notice anything about me?”
Heeseung grasped the collar of his jacket gently with both hands. “My jacket.”
“I was going to give it back to you earlier,” you begin, eyes trained on his lips, “But I think I’ll keep it for today, yeah? Since I look so pretty in it.”
“Oh fuck,” Heeseung cursed under his breath, loud enough for you to hear it and giggle. “Yeah, you can keep it for as long as you want.”
“As long as I want?” you purred, taking a step closer to him. Although it wasn’t clear to anyone else, you were a mess inside. Your heart was palpitating so hard that you could hear it in your ears. Your throat felt dry, and your hands were shaking with mere anxiety and excitement. “What about forever?”
Heeseung cracked a grin. “Do whatever you want. You’re pretty.”
If it wasn’t for the train announcement, you thought you would have kissed his pretty lips right then and there. Taking Heeseung’s hand, you led him to your train cart. 
“Let’s go, Hee.”
The train is much more packed than you expected, but it was the beginning of the weekend after all. The trip from Gyeonggi Province to Hongdae should take no less than an hour. Unfortunately, because of the amount of people in the train, you and Heeseung had to stand for the majority of the time. It should have been uncomfortable, but it simply wasn't. Because you were with Heeseung.
Standing only a few inches away from the boy, your chests almost pressed against each other. You could feel his breath fan your cheeks. The both of you held onto the pole, hands barely brushing against each other when the cart shook against the rails. 
At some point, the shaking was a lot more aggressive than it had previously been. Instinctively, your hand reached for his broad shoulders for stability. Likewise, Heeseung reached for your waist, holding you in place. You and Heeseung shared a long, drawn-out look, eyes getting lost in one another's, before you both avert your gazes shyly, muttering, "sorry." Yet, neither of you moved your hands from their newfound positions.
As minutes passed on the train, your eyes were glued to Heeseung, at least when he wasn't watching. 
You loved the reddish blush that naturally decorated his under-eyes, and the natural corally red at tinted the tip of his ears. His glossy eyes and heart-shaped lips had to be your favorite feature of his, if not for his large, yet delicate hands, so gentle and soft.
You were deep in thought when you suddenly felt a hand creeping on your leg. Nimble fingers from behind, brushing up against the hem of your dress. From the corner of your eye, you saw an older man. He looked unkempt and scruffy, like a delinquent– but nothing like Heeseung. Heeseung looked much better than him.
The man reeked of cigarettes and musk. A nasty grin spread across his face as he peered down at your exposed legs. His hands creeped toward them again, now slightly pushing your dress up. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip, your entire body stiffening. Your heart began to pound in your chest, your cheeks and skin feeling hot. 
Panic overtook your system. Your once soft breaths became much shorter and quicker, inhaling and exhaling shallow air.
You’ve never been in a situation like this; you’d  never wished, thought, or even considered something like this happening to you– why would you? You had no idea what to do, and were not at all prepared for this. The train was packed to the brim, this man was much bigger and stronger than you, and you did not know how to fight.
The hand moved past your skirt, now under it and directly in contact with your skin. The hand felt dirty, brushing against you. A small frantic whimper escaped your lips when the man’s hand squeezed your bare thigh. It was a small sound, barely audible in the vast bustle of the subway. However, someone did hear it.
Heeseung, doe-eyed and lost in his own world, immediately darted his eyes over to you the moment he heard a sound of discomfort. 
When your eyes met, you could only signal helplessly. Your gaze was wide, pupils dilated, with fear and panic. Heeseung’s eyes narrowed, staring into your eyes for a moment before analyzing your expression. The way you were extremely tense and overwrought casted a sense of suspicion in his head, and your eyes that were seemingly pleading him made him think.
Help, your eyes said.
Heeseung’s dark eyes flickered from your face, to your entire body language, and back to your face, before he spotted a few, foreign fingers creeping around your leg area.
Your shifty eyes kept moving from Heeseung’s to the side, but now that he looked at it, it was like they were pointing behind you. And lo and behold, behind you was a musky pervert, who was shamelessly touching you.
“[Name]…” he whispered. His fists clenched, teeth gritting. He sucked in a deep breath, feeling anger build up in his stomach. You whimpered again in response. He brought a hand to ghost over your shoulder, pushing you very, very, gently to the side. “Move.”
He wound up his fist and sent the hardest punch he could muster to the man square in the jaw.
The man lurched back immediately, his hand moving far, far, away from you. A groan left his lips, his head being thrown back in pain. The man’s fall had pushed a few other people down as well. Other bystanders watched on in shock. Some took out their phones to record and take pictures, others to tell their friends.
You just stood still, leaning into Heeseung, whose fist was a faint red color. With a very careful hand, he brushed the lifted hem of your dress down, which had been messed with earlier.
The man quickly got up once he noticed the new and tense silence over the subway cart.
“Hey!” he shouted, pushing himself up from his downtrodden position. “You little punk, who the fuck do you think you-”
The train announcer called for the stop. Heeseung, ignoring the man, took your arm, pulling you out the door. Before he himself left, Heeseung landed a kick to the man’s crotch, muttering, “Fucking bastard.”
"W-Wait, Hee-!"
Heeseung was silent as the train doors opened, only pulling you along with him. When the two of you were far from the train, he finally stopped, turning to you.
"Are you okay?" was all he asked. You shifted uncomfortably at the thought of what happened earlier.
"Y-Yeah..." you played with the hem of his jacket sheepishly. "Thanks for what you did back there."
Heeseung jolted up at the mention. He didn't love using violence, despite his 'delinquent' reputation, especially in front of you. His hands joined yours at the hem of his jacket, shyly brushing up against yours. 
"Next time," he began, beginning to play with the zipper, "I'll fight every person on that train so that you can sit."
You smiled softly. "You don't have to do that, Hee."
Heeseung slowly zipped up his jacket on you, meeting your eyes, before straightening out your collar. 
"But I want to," he breathed. You gazed at him. His hands were still on the collar of the jacket, close to your face. You noticed the red smudges on his knuckles from punching the man on the train. You took that hand, opening it up, and nuzzling your cheek into it. You took his other hand. To Heeseung's surprise, you pressed soft kisses on his knuckles, rubbing them with your thumb.
"What are you..." his breath hitched when your eyes flickered to his, holding steady eye-contact. 
You pressed one last kiss on his palm. "Thank you, Hee. Really."
"Of course, [Name]," he finally whispered. "Anything for you."
And so, your first date with Heeseung began.
The sweet scent of cinnamon and pastries hit your noses the moment you guys stepped into the Cinnamoroll Cafe. When you were seated, you took a look at the menu. So far, the date was going smoothly. Other than the run-in at the beginning, the chemistry between the two of you was sparking. The conversation was flowing, and if that already wasn't a dream come true, you kept touching Heeseung. On your end, you were practically vibrating in your seat with the sheer amount of excitement you had bubbling in you. You couldn't believe you were on a date with the Heeseung Lee sharing a strawberry banana parfait. 
"Hee," you said, motioning him to come closer to you. He did, so you cupped his cheek, bringing your thumb up to wipe a stray piece of the parfait from his cheek. 
"Oh-" Heeseung's face reddened. How embarrassing! Did you think he was a slob now? You only giggled, bringing both hands up to hold his face. You squished the boy's cheeks, laughing at the way his brows cutely crashed into each other.
"You're so cute, Hee," you said, playing with his cheeks. "The cutest."
That's all you, he thought. You're going to drive him crazy.
Or, at least he thought he thought.
Did he just say that out loud? Heeseung groaned when you threw your head back laughing, hiding his own face in your palms. You chuckled.
Feeling bold, you cupped his cheeks again. You leaned closer, holding his face close to yours. You kissed a soft and chaste kiss on his nose. You couldn't help the heat that rose to your cheeks as the boy flopped over the table, hiding his face in his arms. You ran your fingers through his hair comfortingly, cooing at his cuteness.
"You can't do this to me," Heeseung murmured.
You laughed. It wouldn't hurt to tease him a little more, right? You leaned down, giving the boy another kiss. This time, though, you kissed the top of his head.
"Hee, baby, you're just the cutest, you know that right?"
Heeseung combusted.
After the Cafe, Heeseung and you walked around the Hongdae Festival Street. By now, it was beginning to get darker outside, the air cooling down. It was cold, but to Heeseung, it was perfect, because now he had an excuse to hold your hand. As the two of you walked and talked, you enjoyed the sight of the lights and bustling street. 
Suddenly, a new voice interrupted the two of you's conversation. Turning around, you saw two guys who looked around your age. They were holding a camera and a microphone.
"Hi!" they said, smiling. "We're interviewing couples in Hongdae, would you guys like to be in it? We’ll blur your faces."
Heeseung glanced your joined hands, then back at the two guys, then back at your hands, "O-Oh, we're not a coupl—"
You cut him off. "Of course, we'd love to!"
You flashed Heeseung a grin, squeezing his hand twice, almost as if to say, 'Just go with it.' His ears began to burn, his neck prickling with warmth, before clearing his throat. "Y-Yeah..." he squeezed your hand, "We'd love to."
The two guys cheered, turning on their camera. "All right, first question. How did you guys meet?"
"We went to middle school together," you were quick to answer. "I thought he was really cute, but we didn't start talking until this year."
You didn't know what the fuck you were saying. Was it risky to be so truthful for an internet interview, right in front of your long-time crush? Absolutely. But your heart was pounding so hard in your chest, simply waiting for Heeseung's response.
On the other hand, Heeseung's mind was in complete shambles. Were you telling the truth? The way you answered so smoothly with absolutely no hesitation made it almost seem natural.
"And you?" the interviewer asked. "What did you think about her when you first met?"
"I—" Heeseung's breath hitched. "I thought she was the most beautiful person I'd ever seen."
The way you glanced at him made Heeseung's heart feel like it was about to fall out. "I.. I still think that."
Your expression was unreadable, your lips pressing into a thin line. Then, a huge smile broke out on your face.
"Awww, Heeeee! I didn't know you thought about me like that!" You squeezed his hand again, and he squeezed it back.
"How long have you guys been together?" the interviewer asked.
"We just started dating!" You answered enthusiastically, a weird, surprised sound coming from Heeseung.
The rest of the interview went smoothly, with you mostly answering the questions. You quietly thanked the interviewers, and you and Heeseung were on your way.
Your words kept ringing in Heeseung's head.
Especially your answer to the question, "Why did you like him?"
You answered, "Because he's so perfect."
Heeseung? Perfect? He couldn't believe his ears! Were you telling the truth?
A calm silence fell over you and Heeseung as you walked the bustling streets of Hongdae. That question lingered in his mind, and before he knew it, his mouth was moving faster than his mind.
"Did you mean anything you said?"
His voice seemed to reverberate against the night air, ringing in his ears. You chewed on your lip. Then, you sucked in a sharp breath.
"Of course, Hee," you finally answered. "If it's you, I mean everything."
Heeseung sucked his bottom lip into his teeth, biting down so hard he drew blood. Once again, his hands found home on the hem of his jacket draped over you. 
"Good." He couldn't meet your eyes, not with the knowledge that you meant everything you said. He forced his attention onto the hem of the leather jacket that you were wearing, too shy to look at you. 
Heeseung only looked up when he felt your thumb pressing against his lip, eyes widening.
"Don't bite your lip too hard, Hee," you said, a smile in your voice. You thumb swiped against his lip, wiping off the small blotch of blood on it. "You'll bleed, and I'll have to kiss it better."
Heeseung's tongue darted out to swipe over his bleeding lip, brushing against your thumb. "What if I want you to kiss it better?"
"Well, then you better not keep me waiting."
His eyes flickered to your lips. He wanted to kiss them so bad. They looked so soft. What would they taste like? You liked strawberries— maybe they'd taste like that. When he didn't say or do anything, you changed the topic, unable to hide the disappointment in your face.
"Did you mean it?" You asked. "When you said that I was the most beautiful person you'd ever seen?"
"Oh my god, yes," Heeseung said under his breath, eyes still trained on your lips. "Always."
Another silence fell of you two, simply getting lost in each other's eyes. Maybe it was something in the Hongdae air, but Heeseung felt brave. His hand slithered to your waist, bringing you closer to him. When you slid your hands up his chest, resting them on his shoulders, Heeseung audibly gulped. Your faces inched closer and closer, until you could feel his breath against your cheek. You wanted to lean in and close the gap so bad. And you could tell that he wanted to, too.
Just as you were about to, however, the sound of a car honking and tires screeching interrupted you. Heeseung instinctively pulled away, his head whipping around to look at the commotion.
Oh hell no.
You were not going to let that stop you.
You snatched Heeseung's hand, before pulling him with you. You don't know how much you ran, or for how long, but you ran and ran until you found an empty alleyway.
You pushed him against the hard, concrete wall, a bit harsher than you expected too. Holding him by his shoulders, you put all your weight on him, caging him against the wall.
"You'd let me kiss you, right?" you rasped, out of breath.
Heeseung, also breathless, stared at you, lips parted. 
"I thought I already said," he breathed, "Do whatever you want. You're pretty."
With that, you crashed your lips onto his. His lips were soft, a little chapped. It felt so surreal. The scent of his cologne made you feel dizzy. When you pulled away, it was evident that he was feeling the same as you were. 
It was a chaste kiss, but the tension was so thick in the air. Somehow, that made it even more intimate.
"Wow..." was all Heeseung could utter. Under the moonlight, with you pressed up against him, you looked so goddamn pretty. Your face was illuminated with the pale light, making you look like an angel. Was he in heaven? Did he die yet? He wouldn't mind if he died right then and there, now that you (you!) kissed him. "Fuck, you're gonna kill me, [Name]."
"But you'd like it, right? Because I'm so pretty." The teasing tone in your voice would normally make Heeseung melt, but all he could do was grin. 
"You know I would."
The rest of the night, you and Heeseung don't kiss anymore. Not because you guys didn't want to kiss, but because the adrenaline wore off, and now the both of you were shy. It was almost comical, the way both of you completely reverted back to your bashful and sheepish selves, barely able to make eye-contact with each other.
"Thank you for tonight, Hee," you hummed, as you and Heeseung walked to the train station, hand-in-hand. "I had a lot of fun."
He scanned your face. The slight curve on your lips (oh god, your lips, the way the corner of your lip had a smudge of lipstick from kissing him earlier —how badly he wanted to kiss them again) was contagious. "Of course. I had a lot of fun, too."
The train ride back was quiet. You eventually began dozing off, resting your head on his shoulder.
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"You did what?!" was the collective reaction of both you and Heeseung's friends. After that Friday together, you called together all of your friends to your house, to spill the beans. Likewise, Heeseung forced every single one of his friends into his living room.
"Ouuu, you little flirt!" Yunjin exclaimed. Currently, Yunjin, Winter, Hitomi, Yuri, and Minju were seated on your bedroom floor, while you dramatically flopped around on your bed. 
It was now that you explained to your friends your long-time crush on Heeseung, much to their pleasant surprise.
"And then what happened?" Minju asked, filing her finger-nails. "Did you profess your undying love for him?"
You groaned into your pillow. "I can't!"
"Why not?" Winter quirked a brow. "You guys literally kissed."
You let out another groan. "What if he doesn't like me like that?"
Your friends deadpanned.
Heeseung Lee didn't like you. He loved you. They would know better than anyone.
"[Name], honey, you're overthinking it," Yuri nudged you with her foot. "He gave you his jacket. I think that says enough."
"Well, what if I'm just getting ahead of myself and he's just being nice?"
"Girl..."
Heeseung had a similar reaction.
All of his friends stared at him like he just punched their grandmothers.
"You can't be serious right now, hyung..." Sunghoon said, pinching his nose-bridge.
All of his friends were piled onto one couch, while Heeseung laid out on the one across from them, almost like they were in a therapy session. 
"What if she just thinks I'm a good friend?" Heeseung used his hands to speak, theatrically moving them.
"What makes you think that?" Sunoo asked incredulously. 
Heeseung groaned. "[Name] tells Yuri Jo that she wants to marry her and they're good friends."
"Okay, and?"
"Well," Heeseung huffed. "What if [Name] kissed me because she sees me the same way that she sees Yuri?"
"Well, I'm good friends with Jungwon-hyung and I don't kiss him," Riki said matter-of-factly.
"Right..." Jungwon nodded his head slowly. "Hyung, do you really think a good friend would pin you against a wall and kiss you?"
"Do you think a good friend would kiss you three times and then call you cute like a bajillion other times?!" Jake chimed in.
"Let alone choose to keep your jacket?!" Jay sounded tired.
Heeseung clasped his hands together, thinking for a few moments.
"Yes."
All of his friends groaned in defeat.
"You're hopeless."
After a lot of urging and cross-communication between friend-groups, both of your friends managed to convince both you and Heeseung to confess to each other the next Monday.
"What if I faint the moment she says my name?" Heeseung catastrophized to Jay in the school bathroom. 
"Uh, I doubt that, hyung."
Heeseung texted you to meet him under the stairwell, and that was when he was going to confess. On your end, the moment that he texted that, you decided that you'd confess to him then.
When the time came, Heeseung headed out to the stairwell. His hands were clammy, and even when he wiped him on his uniform pants, he couldn't stop the trembling of his hands. What if everyone was instilling false hope in him? Gosh, Heeseung thought he was going to throw up. His stomach was churning, he was going to collapse if he saw you right now—
"Hee?" Your voice broke him out of his internal spiral. Seemingly, there was a halo around you, a light so bright that Heeseung was blinded.
"H-Hi," he stammered, straightening out his posture and clearing his throat.
Your hands were clasped behind your back, leaning forward toward him. "You wanted to talk to me, yeah?"
Heeseung couldn't bring himself to meet your gaze, his shoes suddenly becoming interesting. "Y-Yeah..."
The hallway where the stairwell was located was beginning to feel stuffy. Heeseung had never felt so nervous in his life. He was light-headed, barely able to even balance himself.
"Hee," you reached out to touch his arm, noticing his discomfort. "Let's go outside, okay?"
Going outside should have helped him cool down, but when you shrugged on his leather jacket to combat the cool air, Heeseung realized that there was no way in hell that he was going to get through this confession without dropping dead. 
The two of you walked around the school yard for a few minutes in silence. 
How should he start this confession? He had Sunghoon and Jake write out a script for him, and he spent the entire night memorizing it, but now in your presence he couldn't remember a single word. Should he have written a letter like Yuri Jo? Heeseung couldn't possibly contain himself.
"Hee," you finally said, disrupting the silence. "I have something to tell you."
Heeseung's mind wandered to the worst case scenario. 
You're going to tell him that you're moving across the world to marry the love of your life, aren't you? You're going to say that he's a great friend and that you just got a boyfriend, right? 
No, he needed to tell you his feelings first! If he didn't now, he'd never, and he'd burst into a million pieces!
"M-Me too!" he blurted, stopping in his tracks. 
You blinked at him, then smiled.
Oh, no! It's actually happening!
He could already hear your voice saying, "Hi, Heeseung, my boyfriend just proposed to me and you're invited to the wedding."
You sucked in a breath, parting your lips to speak.
He needed to tell you first! The little demons in his head kept replaying the scene of you asking him to be your groom of honor at your wedding with the love of your life next Saturday. He could hear the marriage officiant announcing, “I now pronounce you husband and wife” at your wedding, and he imagined himself sitting in that little wedding venue holding back tears.
Oh my god, he needed to say it now, or he'll never say it ever!
"Hee, I really--"
Heeseung cut you off. He squeezed his eyes shut, hands balling into fists.
"I like you, [Name]!" he yelled.
.
.
.
You stared at him in disbelief. Or were you flustered? Heeseung couldn't tell. With too much adrenaline in his veins, Heeseung threw away all the preparation and drafted scripts he and his friends made for this very moment.
"I-I.. I like you so much, I'm scared that I'm going to explode!" Heeseung continued shouting at you. He had no idea what he was saying. All he was doing was telling you the thoughts he'd had about you all this time. "You're so, so, so pretty and I can't believe that you're an actual, real, physical, person, and you make me feel so fucking stupid, I can't take it."
Your eyes were bulging out of your head at this point, your jaw dropped. 
"I've never liked anyone like I've liked you, a-and I just wanted to tell you this before you... you go off with someone else!"
Heeseung kept his eyes shut when he was done confessing, letting out a labored breath. There was no way that he could face you. The silence that fell over the two of you made Heeseung's heart sink to the bottom of his stomach. He squeezed his eyes in embarrassment. He gripped the hem of his shirt to relieve the bubbling anxiety inside him. Gosh, he was going to puke.
After a few moments, nothing happened. You didn't say a word. Did you just leave him there standing? Of course, you did. You were probably too kind and angelic to outright reject him. He was a fool to think that he had a chance with you—
Heeseung heard footsteps, and before he could react, he felt a pair of lips on his.
His eyes shot open.
You.
Were.
Kissing.
Him.
!!!
After he confessed!
Poor boy was so stiff, eyes wide.
Did that mean you liked him back?
You pulled away.
Usually, you had a reassuring smile on your face by default. Even during times where you were embarrassed, you almost never showed it on your face.
But this time, your entire face was painted with a flustered expression. Your cute lips jutted out in a mini pout, while your eyes were glued to the ground, avoiding his gaze.
A few pulses passed.
"I... I like you, too... by the way," you murmured.
Another few pulses passed.
You. Liked. Him.
Nonononono wait, was he dreaming?
You.
YOU.
The beautiful, angelic you. 
Liked him.
Without thinking, Heeseung stepped forward, gently grabbing your face.
"You're real, right?" he breathed. When glossy eyes stared back at him, Heeseung felt warmth spread across his chest. Your lips looked so appealing right now, he was craving them again. "I'm not dreaming, yeah?"
You blinked at him a few times. The corners of your lips quirked upward.
"Why, because I'm 'so pretty that you can't believe I'm real?' " your voice had a teasing tone in it, referencing his earlier confession. Heeseung chuckled, letting go of your face so that he could slide his hands to where they belonged: around your waist.
"Just kiss me," he mumbled, looking at you with lidded eyes.
You grinned. "Gladly."
With that, you smashed your lips onto his. Instead of the chaste, soft, kisses that you shared earlier, this one was different. You shoved your tongue into Heeseung's mouth, exploring all its crevices. Poor boy was so surprised that he squeezed your waist, letting out a small whine. The feeling of you smirking against his lips gave him butterflies.
You finally pulled away breathless, but gave him no time to breathe. You grasped his chin, giving you easy control. 
"You drive me so crazy," he murmured against the shell of your ear.
You pressed a kiss at the juncture between his neck and ear. "I drive you crazy?" you cocked your brow.
"You," you muttered. You began pressing kisses down his jaw. 
“Drive.” 
Kiss.
“Me.” 
Kiss. 
“So-” 
Kiss.
"Fucking-" 
Kiss.
"Crazy."
Before you could pounce on him with more kisses, Heeseung, red in the face, flopped over you, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. He let out a cute groan.
"What, are you getting shy on me?" you teased him, running your fingers through his hair. He shook his head against your shoulder, making you coo.
"I can't believe you like me back, that's all," he mumbled, muffled by your shoulder. 
You laughed. "How? I feel like I was so obvious."
Heeseung looked up at you with pink cheeks, frowning. "You don't even want to know how hopelessly in love with you I was."
You quirked a brow at him. 
"Yeah?" You pecked his forehead. "Try me."
Heeseung let out a breathy chuckle. He attacked your lips.
"How about I show you?"
FIN.
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eiightysixbaby · 6 months
Text
i love it loud
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word count: 6.5k+
pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader
summary: you get invited to corroded coffin’s halloween party with your best friend chrissy. you don’t anticipate on having much fun, but that changes when you meet eddie…
cw: 18+ ONLY - SMUT. alcohol consumption, a rogue billy tries to hit on reader, use of petnames, use of y/n (like maybe a few times), oral (f receiving), fingering (f), unprotected p in v - he pulls out tho!, brief description of reader’s costume but no mention of body type/etc.
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You didn’t want to go to this party. Not really. Your best friend had insisted you come with her, because arriving alone would, in her words, be social suicide. Being invited to Corroded Coffin’s Halloween party was a big deal, she’d said, even though you know she was only invited because she’s been going out with the drummer. Of course he’s going to invite his girlfriend.
You hadn’t even had a plan for a costume, and with only a couple day’s notice you didn’t have the time to prepare something good. The stores were all picked over as far as Halloween costumes go, and so you went with the most basic, half-assed option you could’ve possibly selected.
You’re dressed as a cat.
It feels silly, it feels low-effort and stupid and basic, but here you are with your fluffy tail and soft felt ears, black high heels and whiskers painted on your face. A pink nose to top it all off. You did think you looked good, you had to admit, but it definitely wasn’t the costume you would’ve preferred. You awkwardly adjust your stockings as you step up to the front door of the large house, feeling horrendously out of place.
You glance at Chrissy beside you, her hippie costume bright and colorful - an extreme contrast to your all black attire.
“Okay, just texted Gareth that we’re here,” she says, slipping her phone into her bag. “Don’t look so thrilled,” she says sarcastically, pouting at you.
“Sorry I’m not exactly excited to be at a party where I know no one,” you say.
“You know me and Gareth,” she replies, looking at you like she’s confused.
“I barely know Gareth. And don’t act like the two of you won’t be running off to bang the second you get a chance,” you smile at her, knocking shoulders playfully.
“Listen… his friend Eddie, the lead singer, is super hot. Maybe you’ll get more than you bargained for tonight.”
“I don’t know, Chris. There’s going to be a million girls at this party, do I really want to be another notch on some rockstar’s belt?” you ponder.
She doesn’t get the chance to respond before the front door is swinging open in front of you. The figure on the other side is… Peter Criss. More like, Gareth dressed as Peter Criss. Fully outfitted in leather and silver studs, hair spray painted black with white and black cat makeup on his face. You laugh a little as you take him in, and he shoots you a teasing glare.
“Hey ladies,” he greets, pulling Chrissy in for a quick kiss. “Y/N, I’m so glad you decided to come.”
“You know Chris always gets what she wants,” you reply with a laugh, and he laughs with you, agreeing.
He steps to the side, ushering you both into the large foyer of the house. It’s decked out in Halloween decor; bats on the walls, fake cobwebs, hairy toy spiders with light-up red eyes. There’s orange and purple string lights hung about, and you’re honestly impressed with the detail. The house is clean, aside from the stray cup or plate left behind from the current party guests, and the decorations are carefully placed.
“Holy shit, you guys really did it up for the party,” you say, eyes wandering to every corner.
“Oh yeah, that’s all Eddie. He loves Halloween. It was his idea for us to dress like KISS,” Gareth says with a playful eye roll.
“Don’t complain, you look so good in that outfit…” Chrissy says, trailing a finger down his chest.
“I’ll have to give you the official house tour,” he says to your friend. “You coming too?” he asks you, but you shake your head.
“Think I’ll get myself a drink,” you say, sticking out your thumb in the direction of the kitchen.
“Sounds good. There’s stuff on the counter and a bar out back by the pool, you can go wherever you’d like,” Gareth says with a smile, and it’s genuine. “Make yourself at home, say hey if you see the other guys around! You can’t miss ‘em, they’ll be dressed like me,” he adds, and you laugh, waving them off as Chrissy tells you to text her if you need anything at all.
You wander into the open kitchen, pleased with the selection of liquor that awaits you. If you’re going to be spending the night alone, you might as well get pleasantly drunk, you think to yourself. People are scattered throughout the room, talking with their circles of friends and acquaintances. There’s a couple different punch bowls filled with various concoctions, each one labeled with the contents. You take your pick of the poison, scooping the liquid up with a ladle and filling your cup.
You scrunch your face as you take the first sip, lips pursing as you adjust to the bite of the alcohol. You glance around the kitchen, taking note of even more decorations as you slink into a corner alone. They seem to fill the whole house, seeping into the living room and the dining room, any area that you can see. Gareth had said it was all Eddie’s doing, and you find yourself growing more curious about the man in question. You really didn’t know anything about Corroded Coffin, didn’t care much to do any research, you only knew what Chrissy told you.
You know that Grant, the rhythm guitarist, has rich parents, and that his dad bought the house for the band to live in while they’re recording their album. Chrissy always says Grant’s the nerdiest of the bunch, insanely smart and very friendly. You know that Jeff, the bassist, is apparently a sweetheart, a bit shy but would give you the shirt off of his back, and you know that Eddie…. well, you know that he’s supposedly “super hot”. Other than that, you’re drawing a blank. Chrissy hasn’t said much about him at all, now that you really consider it. Maybe he’s an introvert and doesn’t come around often, or maybe he’s a complete dick. He is a rockstar, after all. And there’s plenty of pretty women in his house right now, so… you can gather a few assumptions, to say the least.
You don’t get much more time to ponder the subject before you hear loud, raucous laughter coming in through the sliding doors to the backyard. Two figures stumble in, but in the dim light you can’t get a good look right away.
“I was made for lovin’ you baaaabyyyyyy!” a voice booms, and you don’t need more confirmation that it comes from another member of the band.
“How many times are you gonna sing that tonight?” the other voice counters, and you finally see two unfamiliar men walking towards the kitchen, dressed like other members of KISS.
The annoyed voice comes from the stand-in Gene Simmons of the evening, a frizzy black wig on his head and the signature makeup on his face, making him stand out. He sticks his tongue out obnoxiously at the other man, eliciting a laugh from him. Your eyes flit over, then, to the taller figure. Your attention is immediately grabbed — he’s intriguing right away and you aren’t quite sure why. Tall, slim, with a head of shaggy hair that diminishes his need for a wig for the costume. He’s dressed like Paul Stanley, a black star around his eye, surrounded by a face otherwise full of white makeup. He’s not wearing a shirt, at all, just a thick black studded collar around his neck and leather pants. Chunky heeled boots are on his feet, making him appear taller than just about everyone else in the room.
And if he’s dressed like the singer of KISS, then you can only assume this is Eddie. The singer of Corroded Coffin.
“Oh fuck off, Jeff. Have a little fun! It’s Hallo-fucking-ween, dude,” presumably-Eddie says, leaning into Jeff’s space.
“Sorry my idea of fun isn’t listening to your drunk ass sing KISS songs, Ed,” Jeff says, and the nickname gives you confirmation that this is, in fact, your guy.
Eddie just so happens to look up in that moment, his eyes falling upon yours unintentionally. He smiles at you, genuinely smiles at you, all while playfully rolling his eyes at Jeff’s comment. You giggle into your plastic cup, feeling like the two of you are the only people in the room for a moment. He gives you a teeny little wave, the slightest wiggle of his fingers, and you feel your heart rate increase as you return it. What is wrong with you? You were going to blame the alcohol, for the time being.
The moment is gone as soon as it came, Eddie’s attention getting redirected. You watch in fascination as they pour drinks for themselves, easily greeting the other partygoers who come up to them, eager to talk to the hosts. There’s a swarm of girls around Eddie in thirty seconds flat, and your heart deflates, much to your own dismay. Why should it bother you? He doesn’t even know you, and you don’t know him. Chrissy’s implication that you might hit it off with Eddie tonight is letting you get too in your own head, you decide, trying to shake it off.
You scoff, watching as a girl dressed like a devil leans on the counter into Eddie’s space, pressing her breasts together as much as she can. Her fake fangs are exposed as she laughs too loud at something he says, her bright red lipstick accentuating her mouth. You want to internally criticize her and her basic costume, before you’re reminded of your imitation of the most basic furry friend to ever grace Halloween.
As if on cue, someone comes up behind you and yanks on your tail, making you jump. Your drink sloshes over the rim of the cup at the sudden motion, splashing against the front of your outfit. You spin on your heel, met with the face of an unfamiliar man, which really isn’t saying much since almost every face here is unfamiliar.
“Can I help you?” you snark, flattening your lips in a straight line.
“Woah, calm down, pussy cat. Don’t have to bring the claws out,” the man says, smirking at you as if he has genuinely no clue why you’re bothered.
He reaches one arm out, flattening his palm against the wall behind you and leaning his weight on it, towering over you. He smells like cigarettes and booze, and you watch as his tongue pokes out to wet his lips.
“If you don’t mind,” you snap. “I really need to go wash the liquor out of my costume. Asshole,” you mutter the last part, ready to make your exit when the stranger grabs your arm.
“Going so soon? I thought we’d make friends,” he smiles at you, blue eyes piercing down at you as you grow wildly more uncomfortable.
“I’ll pass,” you emphasize, stomping the heel of your boot down onto his foot.
He yelps in pain, releasing your arm and allowing you to speed-walk out of the crowded kitchen. You can see various pairs of eyes on you as you scurry out, and you can hear your victim cursing you out through the bass coming through the stereo.
You high-tail it out the back door, heels clicking aggressively on pavement as you push through more people surrounding the pool. You finally stop to calm yourself down when you find a lull in the crowds, a spot where you can be relatively alone. You silently thank yourself that the stranger didn’t follow you, but what you didn’t realize is that someone else had.
You exhale, bringing your drink to your lips and taking a swig. Your now-wet top clings to your skin, aggravating you, but the last thing you want to do is wander back into the house in search of the bathroom.
“H-hey, um, are you alright?” a voice rings out directly behind you.
You jolt just slightly, not expecting company. Turning to face the other person, your eyes first land on those big, black platform boots. Eddie had followed you. Your gaze trails up his figure, leather pants and studded belt and bare torso, until you meet his eyes for the second time this evening.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” he says, “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I saw what happened in there and, uh, to be honest I don’t even know why we keep inviting Hargrove to these things—” Eddie rambles, as if Hargrove is a familiar name to you, as if he’s nervous to be around you — like he isn’t the star-studded host of this party.
“I’m okay,” you reply, cutting off his sentence, smirking a little. “Thanks for checking on me.”
“Oh, yeah, of course. I know these parties can get crazy, but… I always want to make sure everyone’s safe,” he says, his gaze softening as he says the last part. “I’m Eddie, by the way,” he introduces, holding out a hand for you to shake.
You immediately notice the big, silver rings adorning many of his fingers, your eyes lingering on them for maybe a second too long before you remember he’s waiting for you. You extend a hand, grasping his and shaking it.
“Y/N,” you reply. “I, uh, I’m here with Chrissy.”
“Oh, you’re Cunningham’s friend!?” he asks, lighting up at that. Excited as he says it as if you’re the celebrity here, not him.
You nod, smiling at him now.
“Damn, and she already ditched you to go screw Gareth, I’m assuming?” he jokes, and you laugh, feeling lighter by the second. Forgetting your less-than-pleasant encounter from moments ago.
“Yeah, how’d you know?” you say sarcastically, smiling wider when he snorts.
There’s a pause, you can feel him staring at you as you take another sip of alcohol. “Well, I’m a little offended she didn’t tell me that she had such a beautiful friend,” he says, and you feel your cheeks grow warm at his forwardness.
You duck your head, avoiding his eyes as your face scrunches in a shy smile. “Ah, there’s the rockstar charm,” you say, loving the sound of his laugh that comes in response.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he playfully asks, cocking his head as he leans forward to meet your gaze.
“How many other girls have you used that line on tonight?” you counter, playful but keeping a safe distance.
“Ouch, sweetheart. You really take me for that much of a player?” he stumbles back, clutching his chest as if he’s been wounded. Your eyes linger maybe too long on the tattoos littering his torso, the slight smattering of hair on his pale skin.
“Well, you are parading around your own party shirtless. Seems like a tool move to me,” you smirk, finishing off your drink with one last sip.
“Darling, you’re dressed like a cat. I don’t think you can come for my costume right now,” he flashes his perfect teeth at you, unable to contain his smile at your banter.
There’s a moment of silence, you staring out across the yard at the bright lights of the city down below, stretching vast and far. Then he speaks up again.
“I mean it. I think you’re really beautiful.”
“Thank you. You’re very pretty,” you say honestly, letting yourself give in to his flirtations.
“Is it the makeup? Am I gonna have to wear this every time I see you now?”
You giggle. “Every time? Are there going to be more times, mister rockstar?”
“I mean, I’d love to take the time to get to know you outside of a party setting, if that’s okay with you,” he smiles bashfully, and you can only assume he’s blushing under all of that makeup.
“Yeah. I think that’s okay with me,” you reply.
Conversation flows easily with Eddie, the less-than- pleasant encounter with the stranger and the spilled alcohol on your shirt long forgotten. He tells you about his life before the band started to make it big, how he always dreamed of being a rockstar. He shyly told you about how he used to parade around his home as a kid, playing his little guitar and singing songs he made up until his uncle was begging him to quiet down and go to bed.
You confess that you really didn’t know much about the band, other than things Chrissy had told you, and you apologize although he tells you it’s absolutely not necessary.
You both end up sitting in the grass side-by-side, talking so much you don’t even remember making the choice to sit, it just happened. There’s a lull in the conversation, his eyes searching yours before glancing down to your lips. He moves just slightly closer, his breath hitting your face with each exhale. You feel yours catch in your throat, anticipating his next move.
You don’t get the chance to see what that move is before the girl in the devil costume from the kitchen approaches. She instantly has her hands on Eddie, grabbing his arm with a red-gloved hand and pulling him to stand. “Eddieeee, come on! You have to come play spin the bottle with us!” she pleads, her voice too whiny to not be part of an act.
“I- uh,” he stumbles, looking at you with an emotion you can’t place.
The girl moves to stand in front of him, putting her hands on his chest now, starting to push him backwards. “Come on, it’s no fun if you don’t play,” she continues, her shrill voice grating in your ears.
You don’t like how close she’s getting, how unafraid she is to be touchy with him. Who even is she? Are they friends? Are they more than friends? She’s pushing him further away from you by the second, not once acknowledging your presence. You scoff, looking to the side, avoiding Eddie’s gaze.
Before Eddie can really do anything, he’s being shoved fully away from you. You don’t see the way he desperately looks to you for an out, simply bothered by the fact that this girl won’t leave him alone.
You wonder if you were right, if he called you beautiful just like he calls every other girl beautiful. You didn’t want to believe it, but, he’s about to go play a game with a bunch of drunk people where the whole point is to kiss each other, so. It’s not looking great for you.
You’d be lying, though, if you said your curiosity wasn’t peaked. You find yourself bored watching partygoers splash around in the pool, and you can’t shove down your internal need to find out what mister rockstar and the devil girl are up to inside. Your feet are carrying you before you can decide against it, leading you back inside, back through the kitchen where you pour yourself another drink, and then to the living room where you find a large group sat in a circle.
You hang back, just slightly, not wanting to make it too obvious that you’re watching the game, even though you aren’t the only one who came to spectate. To be completely honest, the first few spins you witness aren’t very exciting. You don’t know any of these people, so what should it matter to you if they kiss? You’re about to step away when the circle erupts with various ‘Ooooh’s and whistles.
“Come on, Eddie! You gotta do it!” a now very drunk Jeff screams.
To your absolute horror, Eddie had spun the bottle, only for it to land on the little bitch whose name you still don’t know in the devil costume. Eddie looks at the girl, who is very clearly eagerly awaiting a kiss from the singer of Corroded Coffin, but then he looks up at you.
You didn’t think he’d realized you were there, didn’t think he saw you lurking, but he looked at you too pointedly for it to have been an accident.
You swallow, suddenly feeling awkward amongst the silence of the room. Everyone’s watching Eddie, expecting him to get his kiss over with and move on. He stands finally, stepping forward. You almost want to look away, not interested in watching him lock lips with someone that isn’t you. But you can’t look away, not when he bypasses the anonymous girl and heads right for you.
“Um, I’m right here!” she says, her tone snarky and honestly annoying enough to make you want to slap her.
“Yeah, well I’m not kissing you, Tina,” Eddie says. “Spin the bottle. What are we, fourteen?” he asks, eyes still locked on you as he stands merely a step away now.
Your heart thumps in your chest, every bit of your nervous system attuned to him. Your mouth hangs slightly open, not knowing what to do or what to say.
He steps even closer, closing the distance between you. “I want to kiss you, that okay?” he murmurs, letting one hand rest so gently on your waist.
You want to laugh in Tina’s face. You want to point and laugh and rub it in, but that wouldn’t be the appropriate response here. You need to kiss Eddie, sooner rather than later.
You just nod, a smile playing on your lips. He leans his face closer to yours, hovering by your ear to whisper, “I’m sorry, about her. She’s… a friend of a friend who always ends up at our parties. Trust me, I have no interest there.”
The reassurance really isn’t necessary, you barely know Eddie after all, but it’s extremely appreciated. You feel your heart flutter a little, smug and satisfied all in one. And then his lips are on yours, not giving a damn who’s watching, not a care in the world for what anyone might say.
His lips are soft, warm against yours and the way he cradles the back of your head in his hands makes you weak at the knees. Your noses brush before you pull away, and the two of you giggle in unison like you just shared some exciting secret with each other.
Tina is dumbfounded where she sits on the carpet, watching you. You swear steam would be coming out of her ears if this was a cartoon. You give her a little wave and an all-too-fake smile before Eddie grabs your hand to lead you away.
Not a single word is spoken as he pulls you out of the living room, you’re silent until you reach the stairs to go up to the second floor.
“So you really don’t have history with Tina?” you playfully ask, pressing the issue just to be a pain, and he groans.
“Ugh, god, no. Like I said, she always ends up at these things and she’s all over me. But the funny part is, we went to high school together. She bullied the crap outta me,” he explains, and you can’t help but laugh. “Spread some nasty rumors on social media…” he shakes his head, smirking at the thought now.
“Of course,” you roll your eyes, “Now where are you taking me, rockstar?” you grab his waist once you’ve reached the top of the stairs, pulling him closer to you.
“To my room, because there’s no way I can handle any more interruptions tonight,” he says, his hands finding your hips, pressing his forehead to yours for a moment.
Another kiss is ghosted over your lips, open-mouthed and teasing, leaving you chasing after him when he pulls away and starts to walk down the hallway. He opens the dark wood door, gesturing for you to enter first.
The second he’s inside with you, his mouth is on yours, your back pressed to the wall as his hands grip your waist. He fumbles with the light switch behind you, providing a dim glow throughout the room. He wastes no time slipping his tongue past your lips, licking inside of your mouth and groaning when your tongue meets his. Your noses brush and you’re sure his makeup is getting smeared on your face, or vice-versa, and the thought makes you smile into the kiss. His lips work their way down to your jaw, nipping and mouthing at the skin before residing on your neck, sucking till it stings.
You hiss, arching your back into him, hands grabbing at his bare shoulders as your nails dig into the skin.
“Shit, sweetheart,” Eddie breathes, hands grabbing your face as he brings you in for another heated kiss.
He starts to walk backwards, guiding you with him towards his bed. His boots are kicked off of his feet carelessly, and you toe off your heels in tandem. He reaches the mattress, falling back onto it and scooting backwards until he’s fully on the bed. You follow his lead, straddling his lap and letting your hands roam his bare chest. He watches you like you’re an ethereal being, eyes big and round and completely full of desire. His hands wrap around to grab your ass beneath the fabric of your skirt, filling his open palms with the soft flesh and squeezing.
Your hands waste no time in finding their way to the zipper of his pants, tugging it down after undoing the button.
“Need these off, Ed,” you say, sounding more whiny than you’d wanted. Your face gets hot at the smirk he gives you in return.
“Oh, so we’re desperate now, huh?” he says, the cocky rockstar demeanor coming out in full-swing. It makes you embarrassingly flustered, your cunt throbbing for him.
All you can do is nod, your hand trailing over the bulge that waits for you beneath fabric.
“Fuck,” he curses under his breath, starting to shimmy his pants down his thighs.
You remove yourself from his lap, letting him undress — your mouth practically watering when his cock springs free and smacks against his stomach. He’s fully naked for you now, given that he already wasn’t wearing a shirt. All that’s left is the studded choker around his neck, and it makes you drool.
“Like what you see, baby?” he asks, a smug little grin on his face as he watches the way you take in his entire body.
You already noticed the tattoos on his chest and arms, but now you’re noticing the ones on his thighs. He’s unreal, so unfairly gorgeous and captivating. He’s perfectly sculpted, a sharp V carved into his pelvis that simply leads your eyes down a path to his perfect cock. It’s big — long and not too thick, veiny with a pink, leaking tip. He must catch your intrigued expression, because he laughs, a devious little sound that tells you he can’t have any pure intentions.
“Why don’t you lay down so I can get you ready to take this cock?” he purrs, slender fingers stroking up and down one side of your body.
You shudder at his touch, moving to lay down on his bed. You pull your shirt off before you do, leaving your black, lacy bra on display for the man beside you. Your tits rest perfectly in it, and Eddie’s sure to get an eyeful. His hands gently hold your hips once you’re situated comfortably, partially laying down with your back propped against his many fluffy pillows. He leans down, letting his lips graze over your jaw, your cheek, your nose, before finally pressing to your mouth. He brings one hand up, pulling your cat-ear headband off of your head, deciding it can’t be very comfortable to have on for hours at a time. It makes you breathe a little laugh into the kiss, remembering how silly you must look with your painted on whiskers and nose.
He doesn’t give you much time to dwell on it, his mouth pulling off of yours and starting to travel down your neck. He kisses your shoulders, your collarbone, sucking on the most sensitive bits of skin and making you whine as you wriggle beneath him. He finds his way down to your breasts, hands sliding your bra straps down your shoulders as you arch your back for him, giving him room to unhook the clasp that sits at your spine. His lips immediately attach to one of your pert nipples, sucking and swirling his tongue around the small bud. One of his large hands cups your other breast, the cold silver of the rings on his fingers a sharp contrast to your searing skin.
He switches after a moment, sucking the opposite nipple into his warm, wet mouth. Something akin to a growl leaves his mouth when your fingers tangle in his hair and tug, and it spurs you on to keep going. His lips unlatch themselves from your breast, his mouth moving down down down, trailing kisses everywhere it goes. Your cunt throbs when his mouth approaches the waistband of your tight little skirt, his eager hands hooking beneath the fabric and beginning to yank it down, along with your underwear.
He peppers kisses lower and lower on your body, his mouth following close behind the clothes that he pulls off of you, covering every inch of skin as it’s exposed to him. He discards everything onto the floor, definitely tearing your stockings in the process of ripping them off of you. Your mind is a blur as he hastily attaches his lips to your clit, slipping one finger inside of you with complete ease. You weren’t expecting all of the stimulation so suddenly, your body writhing on the mattress as he sucks your sensitive clit into his mouth.
“More, Eddie, need more,” you pant, knowing you’re probably being greedy but knowing all the same that he won’t deny you what you want.
He hums against your cunt, immediately adding a second finger inside of you. He curls the digits, collecting your sticky wetness and groaning at the filthy noises that his movements make. Your hands tug harder on his hair as you throw your head back onto the pillows, cursing at how good he feels. Going in, you had no idea how tonight would play out, but you certainly didn’t expect to be hooking up with the frontman of Corroded Coffin. Your head spins at the thought of how many other people would probably die to be in your position right now, and it only makes you more turned on.
“Want one more, baby? Need to make sure you can take my fingers before you take my cock,” he purrs, smirking up at you.
“Yeah, please, I can take it,” you reassure him, and he slips a third finger in.
His fingers are thick, no doubt about it, and they stretch you so deliciously you feel like you could cry. The silk sheets beneath you feel cold against your skin, easing the heat that floods your entire body. You grip them with one hand, the other still in Eddie’s hair as he flicks his tongue back and forth over your clit in the perfect rhythm. He doesn’t dare change his pace, not with the way you’re moaning his name like a siren song, drawing him more and more into you.
You’re rapidly approaching your release, that much he knows, and he wants to send you free-falling over that edge. The way you suck his fingers right in practically makes him drool, he can’t get enough. Loud, shrill moans of his name leave your mouth as he curls his fingers into that perfect soft spot inside of you, and Eddie couldn’t care less if the whole damn house can hear you.
“Gonna cum, Eddie, ohmygod—” you’re cut off mid-sentence, the air stolen from your lungs as you come undone for him.
You squeeze around his fingers, soaking him as your body trembles. He pulls them out of you, slowly bringing them to his lips, making sure your eyes are on him. He sucks the digits clean of your juices, humming contently around them. You ache for him, your body desperate to have him even though it’s only been seconds since he’d been pleasuring you.
He moves to hover over you, reattaching his lips to yours in a heated kiss. It’s somehow gentle and rough at the same time, a weird but enticing juxtaposition. He tastes like you and it drives you crazy as your mouths clash together, all teeth and tongues.
“Fuck, baby, hold on. Let me get a condom,” Eddie says, nearly breathless as he pulls away.
“No— want you to fuck me raw,” you mewl, reaching out to stop him as he goes to stand.
“Baby…” he says, looking at you with uncertainty. He never goes without a condom, and certainly doesn’t want you to feel pressured to forgo one.
“Please, Eddie. Just pull out,” you plead with him, and you honestly can’t believe your nerve right now. Begging the famous rockstar you just met to fuck you raw, as if you have all of this power over him. What you don’t know is that Eddie already wants to give you anything you ask for.
“Okay, alright, sweetheart. Whatever you want,” he says, leaning down to kiss your forehead before positioning himself on top of you.
He lines his cock up with your entrance, and you can feel the way you throb for him. You know you’re even more soaked than before, and you hardly worry about whether or not he’ll fit.
“You ready?” he asks sincerely. Big brown eyes searching yours for your approval.
“Mhm,” you hum, letting your eyes flutter closed when you feel him start to press in.
Moans leave each of your mouths in unison as he sinks inside inch by inch. Your nails dig in to the skin on his back, dragging down when he bottoms out inside of you. He hisses, breathing heavy as he tries to gain some composure. You feel so good around him, too good, and it takes all of his focus to not bust immediately.
“Please move, need you to move,” you whine, looking up at him with your big, pleading eyes.
He nods, “Okay, baby. Gonna give it to you so good, yeah?”
He starts thrusting, slowly at first, dragging his cock almost fully out of you before rutting back in. The air is forced from your lungs, your mouth open in a silent moan. His movements stay slow like that for a little while, giving you the friction you need but still teasing. Moans leave your lips as he slowly pushes himself all the way in, letting you fully feel the way he stretches your walls to fit him.
He starts to speed up then, setting a steady pace as he fucks into you harder. He does it so well, filling you to the brim and making you clench around him. You can feel every vein and ridge on his cock, the pleasure making your body erupt in goosebumps.
“Shit, feel so fucking good, sweetheart,” Eddie pants, his hips smacking against yours roughly. “Wanna try something different?” he asks, waiting for your approval which comes without hesitation.
He pulls out of you, making you wince slightly. He stands at the side of the bed, coaxing you to move towards him. You oblige, scooting right to the edge of the mattress. Strong hands grip your legs, hoisting your feet up onto his shoulders, exposing you perfectly to him. You feel more vulnerable like this, and it makes you antsy as you wait for him to slide back in. When he does, you see stars. The angle is perfect, his cock hitting spots it couldn’t before. You watch as he throws his head back, the muscles in his neck prominent as he clenches his jaw, a guttural groan escaping him.
“You’re so damn beautiful, so fucking gorgeous,” he says, looking back down at you with sincere eyes. “How’d I get the most perfect girl on the planet?”
And then he bends down, your legs still hooked over his shoulders, your body practically folded in half now. You nearly scream out his name, the lewd sounds of his balls slapping against your skin filling the space. He leans down to kiss you, his lips and firm against yours, muffling your pretty noises. He pulls away, letting out a smug little chuckle at the way you instantly moan for him, noticing the tears pricking in the corner of your eyes.
“Gonna cry for me, baby? My cock feels so good you’re gonna cry about it?” he teases, watching your brow furrow in concentration as you get closer and closer to release.
“You’re very — fuck — very fucking modest,” you choke out, trying and failing to bite back your whimpers.
He laughs again, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “You know you fucking love it,” he murmurs, teeth biting at your earlobe before he pulls away. “I can tell you love it, cause you’re suckin’ me in like you were made for me.”
You let out a whine at his words, pinching your eyes shut in pure ecstasy as he continues to split you open. “Fuck, Eddie, don’t stop,” you plead, your body jolting with every harsh thrust he gives you.
He grunts as he fucks you faster, watching in awe as your tits bounce on your chest. He can feel how soaked you are for him, can see your cream pooling around the base of him when he sheathes himself fully inside.
“You gonna cum for me again, sweetheart?” he rasps, leaning down to kiss along your jawline.
All you can get out is a wobbly “Uh-huh,” nodding your head to the best of your ability. His fingers dig in to the meat of your thighs, a dull ache from his harsh grip barely noticeable in the back of your mind. One hand moves from its spot on your leg to reach down and play with your clit, the pad of his thumb rubbing quick circles over it.
Your back arches off the mattress, your legs shaking as you cry out his name. A few more deep thrusts and you’re plummeting over the edge for the second time tonight, your cunt tensing up around him over and over. The way your walls flutter around his cock brings him dangerously close to release, and he pulls his cock out quickly before he’s pumping it in his fist. All it takes is a few strokes before ropes of his cum are covering your body, splattering over your bare chest and stomach.
You let your legs drop from his shoulders, aching as you stretch them out. You feel like you’re made of rubber, limbs wobbly as your feet drop to the floor.
“Holy shit,” is all you can say, staring up at his ceiling as he chuckles at you from the side of the bed.
“You’re so damn perfect,” he says, shaking his head with a sweet little smile. He stretches, muscles flexing as he raises his arms to the ceiling, cocking an eyebrow at you when he catches you staring.
“Says you…” you reply, pulling the sheets up to hide your face, suddenly shy.
“Let me get you cleaned up, yeah?” he asks, holding out his arm for you, pulling you up when you take his hand.
When you step out of the shower with him, after your body has been cleaned and every inch of your skin has been kissed by his soft mouth, he gives you his big clothes to put on. You change and brush your hair, letting his hands hold your waist as he tries to invade your space to kiss you even more. You can’t help but admire his face, even more gorgeous now that his Halloween makeup is washed down the drain.
You both shuffle out of the bedroom carefully afterwards, trying to gauge how much the party has died down, only to be met with a laugh from the opposite end of the hallway.
Your head shoots up, seeing Gareth and Chrissy stepping out of his room, looking wildly similar to you and Eddie; costumes off, makeup off, a few extra hickeys on Gareth’s neck. Chrissy’s mouth hangs open, her eyes flitting from you to Eddie and back again.
“I told you!!” she shouts, giggling before Gareth takes her hand, pulling her down the stairs with him.
You try to bite back a smile, heat creeping up to your face.
“What exactly did she tell you, sweetheart?” Eddie smirks down at you, pulling your body to his. His cocky expression gives you the hint that he already has an idea.
“Shut up, rockstar.”
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