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shinjisdone · 6 months

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When You Have An Secret Admirer - And Everybody Thinks It's Them (1; Heartslabyul)

A love letter was left at your door and now you are searching for that 'secret admirer' - everyone wants to help you out...but have their own reason for it. Yet now, it seems like there are quite a few misunderstandings on campus...and everyone thinks they have finally found that secret admirer.

Spin-off of the first 'secert admirer' series + form of headcanons

note: reader is gender-neutral but mostly mentioned in 2. pov; a series of everyone being mistaken for the secret admirer. headcanon will follow each char. own thoughts on the situation.]

"Hey...you think he could be the famous admirer of the Ramshakle prefect?"

2; Savanaclaw

3; Octavinelle

Ace Trappola

The first time Ace has heard of such whispers was when he was with you out in the hallways.

Students on the other side whispering amongst themselves, a clique subtly pointing at him...and eavesdropping on their suspicions...

"...You guys think its Trappola? He's always hanging around with the prefect ever since day one..."

Man, Ace was so close to spitting out his drink.

Did he just hear this right? Wait, wait, whoa, whoa, wait! He...didn't hear that just now, did he?

"Yeah, can't be anyone else. Have you seen how he looks at them?"

Oh no, he did right.

...Ha! Haha! Seriosuly? No way, does just...everyone in campus believe such crap? Haha, it can't be...

Though he tries to brush it all off, Ace quickly ushered you away from the hallways and anywhere where there wasn't a single soul. He couldn't bare to hear more.

But, seriously? Nah. No, no, no waaaay could...could Ace pull such cringy, gushy stuff. No one could seriously think he would even write a love letter, right?

Pfff, no. Ace isn't the type to even be capable of getting some notes for alchemy class right, or, or to get some flyin' mirror from somewhere, let alone steal roses from his own dorm. Have you seen how angry Riddle gets?

Totally in denial. Well, he is not that oh-so-great secret admiiiireeer, so what is there to deny? Nothing, that's what!

There are certainly a bunch of students that doubt he would and could do that...but others only believe it more.

The trickster Trappola. Your best friend who always looks out for you, always sticks with you even if he gets himself in trouble and seems to always look at you a certain way...

After all, guys tease those they like, right?

The whsipers get louder and louder throughout the week and Ace is visibly getting uneasy. You note and tell him how more fidgety and sweaty he seems recently but he brushes it all off with a scoff and a joke as usual.

He tried to think of a way to end this gossip...or at least escape it. But Ace will not ever think of avoiding you just for some stupid rumors. He is your friend, your best friend and he isn't gonna be a chicken and disappear into thin air just some idiots cannot tell the obvious - that Ace just isn't that romantic.

Would you like him to be more romantic...?

Alas, one day in the dorm, a few students approach him and directly ask him if he is the admirer. They may not have evidence but considering how the ace of hearts hangs around you like a leech, there is no other way that he doesn't like you.

Ace cracks an nervous grin and shrugs it all off despite pearls of sweat running down his face and tainting his jacket. Pff, whuat? Crazy such a claim, crazy he says! How deeply wounded he is by this suspicion!

Ace is honest and says, hey, he ain't the admirer. He ain't the romantic type either, he's just looking out for you, you know? Like the good classmate that he is.

A few believe that he is incapable of doing such acts and that it wouldn't fit his character at all. Though, that does not deter many to think that he does hold some feelings for you with how he is acting...

It just makes him more nervous.

Deuce Spade

Deuce coughed and cleared his throat the first time he heard such rumors at his club. Jack offered him water.

H-H-H-Huh??? WH-Wh-What, him? Him, Deuce Spade being your secret admirer?! Why would anyone think that?!

Genuinely baffled and surprised at this conclusion a few of his classmates came up with. How could he, Deuce, ever...be considered something close to a secret admirer?

But once he hears a few 'theories' his face is blooming a bright and deep red.

Constantly at your side? Protecting you in the smallest of ways like a hero? Giddy like a kid in a candy store when he gets praise from you? The thought of an ex-delinquent protecting and caring for someone being the ultimate proof that he is in love?!

L-L-L-Love?

H-Hold up! That can't be right! Deuce cares for you and you are his bestie but...! It isn't, it can't be...!

Too dumbfounded and embarrassed to do anything in the beginning. The thoughts and rumors of him even having feelings for you and people believing him to have done the things the admirer did, are constantly swirling in his mind. Day and night.

It's all getting too much...until only a handful of people approach him and ask.

Others back up in fear. "Hey, man, watch out! If you say anything wrong about his partner, the delinquent guy will beat you black and blue!"

WHAT

DELINQUENT GUY? P-P-PARTNER?!

Well, they are right, if someone were to hurt you, he would beat them up.

BUT ITS NOT ABOUT THAT RIGHT NOW.

With the biggest blush on his face and back straight as a candle, Deuce seems like an upright, studious boy who loudly corrects them, saying it's all not true! Y-You are just his best f-friend!

The gossip affects him so much that he comes running to you, lips in a nervous but tight line, eyes as big as a deers and face blooming like a rose.

"I AM NOT YOUR SECRET ADMIRER!"

Unwittingly he blurts out but softly tells you of the rumors right after. He just doesn't want there to be a misunderstanding.

He fiddles with his fingers, quietly continuing; "Because, uhm...if I did like you like that...I'd be more direct with you than that admirer could ever be."

Cater Diamond

Eh, what? Cater? And being a secret admirer?

Hah! That is almost cute and flattering! But, uh...well, a bit embarrassing, too...

Some argue of how he always calls you 'cute' or wants to take selfies with you...but he does so with everyone.

Yet Cater has a tendency to call you his 'favorite, cute juniour' just like Trey.

Cater is one actually able to laugh it all off genuinely - but at the same time he does not deny any of these claims. Yeah, you are super cute and have they seen these pics? They must have with how many hearts they got on Magicam~

He isn't gonna go around telling people that he fancies you but he is sure to casually tell them, no, he isn't the admirer. Very flattering (and bold) that you assume that though!

Will straight up go to you and say the obvious. He is not, in fact, your dear, darling admirer but that doesn't mean he doesn't admire you at all~

Trey Clover

Uhm???

Trey laughed sheepishly, hiding his blush under his hat.

This isn't...That's not right!

Everytime he'd hear a whisper, he unwittingly gets nervous. The thought of him doing the admirer's deeds...and even worse, people believing him to be them!

It's stress and drama he didn't ask for.

Although it is kinda a nice thought...while the actions of the admirer, the gifts and confessions of love are too embarassing for Trey, the thought of him making you fluster and blush is nice...

Very nice.

With a sigh, he shakes the thought of. He isn't them. No matter how much he wishes he was.

So with a sheepish grin and a bit of a stutter he clears his name. Riddle would have his head if he did any of these things!

With a ruffle of your hair he confesses. Don't worry, he isn't lovesick. He just likes you normally.

Riddle Rosehearts

SPITS OUT HIS TEA

Excuse him?! What did he just hear?! Doesn't matter if it was not meant for him to hear, off with your head! ITS OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!

So...absurd! There's no way such gossip is being spread in his dorm, is it?! Riddle already once had an awful reputation. There's no need for one made out of lies!

...Even if the image of him writing love letters and handing you gifts does fit him...Riddle would never steal from his own dorm!

He would never cause such a wreck as that "secret admirer" has. It's insulting to compare Riddle to them, lest even think he IS them!

Though he hears of the rumors, no one has the gall to approach him. That doesn't stop his anger as he gets more and more agitated everytime he even hears your name slip off someone's lips.

"The Housewarden totally favors them, after all..."

"He invites them to Unbirthday parties all the time."

"And acts like a gentleman then!"

Red, red, red. Riddle's face blooms in a deep crimson but it isn't blood rushing to his head in anger, it is a blush of embarassment.

Each one of them is right.

He cannot take his feelings being dangled in front of his face like that. It's all so, so true but he shall never admit it.

Riddle will have to clear his name it seems for all of this to stop.

It's difficult - not many believe him considering how agitated he becomes at the topic, at the mention of you.

Yet he managed to calm the crowd...all there was left was to tell you the truth as well.

"Im sure youve heard of it," he began dryly even as he tried to hide his blush. "But you know me and I would never callously break the rules like that just to...confess. No."

He then turned to you, his voice firmer and eyes softer. "If I wanted to court you, I'd do it in a way you deserve."

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twst x reader #gender neutral imagine #twisted wonderland x reader #heartslabyul #heartslaybul x reader #riddle rosehearts #ace trapolla #Deuce spade #Trey clover #cater diamond #secret admirer

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hairmetal666 · 1 year

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Eddie's at a party, lunch box in tow, and he's making a fucking killing.

He sets up shop in the crowded kitchen, but that doesn't stop him from spotting King Steve in the living room. Harrington's face is still fucked up from the fight with Hargrove, and he's tipping a cup almost vertically into his mouth. He's not too surprised when--the next time he spots the jock--he has a can of beer in each fist.

More customers flood up to him, and he can't help but be a little grateful for the distraction. Harrington is one unrequited crush he just can't kick.

Lunch box cleaned out, Eddie heads outside for a smoke. He's fishing his cigarettes out of his jacket pocket when he hears a snuffling sort of shuffle that sends his heart racing.

He edges forward, just enough to make out the heap of a person half-heartedly sitting up against the house. A person in fitted blue jeans, tight polo, and Member's Only jacket; swoop of chestnut hair catching in the flash of fire from Eddie's Zippo.

"Harrington?"

The guy startles, stability wavering, eyes blinking too much. "Munson?"

"You alright, man?" He asks, though he can already tell that Steve is most definitely not.

Steve shrugs. "Why do you care?" It's not mean, sounds genuinely curious.

Eddie gets it. He has no reason on earth to show concern about King Steve. In answer, he taps his boot against Steve's sneaker, giving him a small smile. "Not sure. But I'm here, so..."

"Just needed some air. Clear my head."

"How much have you had to drink?" Eddie asks.

"One or two,"

"Dozen?"

Steve laughs. "You're funny. Has anyone ever told you that?"

"I've heard," Eddie says, can't help but laugh a little too. "Wanna talk about what's going on?"

Eddie thinks that'll be a "no," but then: "Nancy dumped me."

"Yeah, big news."

"Ugh, people are talking about it?" Steve whines. It's really cute and Eddie hates himself for noticing. Hates himself more when Steve loses his balance, tips onto Eddie's shoulder, and Eddie doesn't tip him back.

Eddie can tell that Steve isn't fully with him anymore. He's a little afraid to leave the guy alone, so Eddie talks about the latest Hellfire campaign. Sober Steve Harrington probably has no idea what dnd is, but the drunk version is kind of a rapt audience.

He's just explaining about owlbears when Steve's voice, soft and sad, says "I just want someone to love me, you know?"

The admission renders Eddie speechless for a second, his chest fucking aching for the jock. He says "Oh, Stevie," knows he sounds too sad, is sure of it when Steve's nose wrinkles (it's cute; it's so fucking cute. Eddie hates himself for noticing).

Before he can backtrack, Steve slumps over, body going limp as he passes out. "Jesus H Christ," Eddie barks.

With a heavy sigh, and way too much fondness, Eddie stands. "Let's get you home, sweetheart."

He gathers Harrington up in his arms--dude is heavy--and carries him around to his van.

---

Steve wakes up, head throbbing and tongue fuzzy, with no idea how he got home and into bed. Can't really recall anything after he stumbled outside, aside from talking to Eddie Munson. But maybe that was a dream? Either way, he's home, not really any worse for wear. It's enough to let him forget all about it; what's one drunken party in a life full of them?

That Wednesday, he opens his locker after the final bell, and a Hershey bar falls out. He picks it up, flipping it over to see a note on the foil wrapping, "thought you might need something sweet to cheer you up." It's not signed, and Steve slips it into his backpack, knowing he's got a silly smile on his handsome face.

The little gifts continue to show up once or twice a week. Candy, plastic vending machine toys, sketches of the school grounds, caricatures of classmates and teachers. Sometimes they even come with a note in handwriting he doesn't recognize.

Along with the little treats, he starts seeing Eddie Munson kind of everywhere. And it's not like Steve hadn't seen him before--guy was hard to miss--but he was never around this often. Wasn't around this often and he and Steve had never shared a smile, a quick bob of the head, a quiet hello.

It isn't long before they're talking. Nothing much, nothing serious. Complaining about teachers, about classmates; sharing weekend plans. Only now Steve can't pretend to not notice the way Eddie dimples up when he smiles, the subtle muscles that bunch under the sleeves of his Hellfire Club shirt, the long litheness of his legs. Steve knows he's attracted to other guys, it's just that he didn't realize he'd be attracted to Eddie.

The gifts keep coming. Once, he opens his locker to find a plastic ring fashioned into a golden crown and a note that says, "made me think of you, Stevie." There's something about the "Stevie" that catches deep in his brain, but he can't make it connect to anything.

A few months later, Steve opens his locker and pulls out a drawing. This one--it's of him. He's gazing out into space in a way that managers to be dreamy and wistful. The Steve in the drawing is lovely, and it makes something clench deep in his gut, that someone sees him like this.

Steve tries to be more aware of the people in his surroundings, to figure out who his admirer is. He's not very good at it, even as more sketches of him--all depicting him as a gorgeous, ethereal thing he definitely isn't--show up in his locker. Especially when, so often these days, the person he sees the most is Eddie.

---

The presents in his locker continue into April, and would probably last until the end of the school year, but Steve's got a migraine starting. He keeps aspirin in his locker, gets a hall pass out of English to get some.

When he reaches his locker, though, someone is already there, with the door open. Someone in ripped black jeans, heavy black boots, a black leather jacket, and patch covered denim vest.

"Munson?" He asks. His heart beats so hard it reverberates in his ears, making it hard to hear.

Eddie jumps back, hands fluttering, face flushing bright red. "Ste--Harrington! I--uh--," he's backing up, his hands held out from his body, like he's pushing Steve away even though they aren't touching.

"Were you--?" Steve tries to ask, but the words won't quite come. There's familiar warmth low in his stomach, a twisting that has nothing to do with his impending migraine.

"I wasn't doing anything, I swear," Eddie says. He's breathing hard, eyes too bright, and Steve thinks he might be about to cry, but then the metalhead is turning away, starting to run.

"Eddie, wait!" Steve calls, chasing after him without much thought. "Please!"

Eddie doesn't stop until after they've crashed out one of the side exits, are alone outside.

"It was you? Leaving the--?"

Eddie nods, presses his hands to his eyes. "Sorry, I'm sorry, Harrington. I just--"

"Don't be sorry," Steve begs. "It's been--I liked it."

"Even now that you know they're coming from the freak?" Eddie spits. He still hides his face behind his hands.

"It's sort of been the best part of my year, if I'm being honest."

Only now does the metalhead remove his hands, blink back at Steve, dark eyes wide with shock. "Really?"

"Yeah. It made me feel-- important, I guess? Like, maybe someone saw me as something more than King Steve."

Eddie smiles now, looks down at the pavement. "I just didn't want you to think that you weren't--" he stops then, presses his mouth tight.

"Didn't want me to think what?"

"That you weren't loved, Stevie."

The statement hangs between them, Eddie's face pinking again, as the words wrap their way around Steve's heart. Loved. That he's loved. It clenches at every part of him, and he surrounds himself with the truth of it, what all those little presents were saying without words.

"Eddie, I--" he's overwhelmed by the gesture, the meaning, the reciprocal buzz in his chest, because Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson, loves him, and this fact is turning Steve's world on it's head in the best way.

"I'm sorry, Steve, really. Please don't hate me, or--or--"

"It means so much to me," Steve says, his voice a little broken. He reaches a hand out, slow, telegraphing the movement. "Can I?" He whispers.

Eddie nods, and Steve strokes the skin of his face with his thumb. "Thank you."

The metalhead nods, leaning into Steve's touch, they shift close, until their foreheads meet, until they share the same air. They stand that way for a while, long enough that they hear the bell ringing, and only then does Steve break their quiet. "Eds?"

"Yeah, Stevie?"

"You wanna hangout some time?"

Eddie laughs. "Yeah. I really, really do, sweetheart."

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #ficlet #one shot #secret admirer #fluff #a tiny bit of angst #friends to lovers #feelings realization #feelings confession #pining eddie munson #oblivious steve harrington #mutual crushes #high school au #eddie is in love with steve

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averyakuma · 3 months

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Secret Admirer

Pairing - Alastor X fem! Reader

Plot - Fluff, building up friendship, secret admirer, physical contact? 🫢

A/N - I’m either gonna cringe so bad at this prompt or really like it 😁 also I cannot sleep it’s almost 2am 😪😢

It’s has been only a couple of months ever since Charlie brought you in to stay and work at the Hazbin Hotel, and let’s say you felt home sweet home.

Even though you were still adjusting to the new place over all, it was definitely better than staying with roommates who wouldn’t even pay for their part of the rent, you were scrolling on your phone, slightly tilted to the couch arm. You were bored out of your mind, you finished all your tasks, and it didn’t look like the others needed help with their jobs. You couldn’t help but think about a special someone in mind, Alastor.

At first, you and Alastor seemed to hate each other, but the more you both got to know each other, it wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be. You put down your phone on your side and turned it off, thinking deeper. Of course, he’s such a tease with his sinister smile of his, but you thought it was charming.

When you were done thinking about this ‘deer’ of yours, you felt a pair of eyes on you. You looked around to see if anyone was there except for husk because obviously he was working at the bar, but nobody else to be seen. You shrugged it off. As you were about to switch apps, someone had snatched your phone out of your hands, it was Alastor.

“I already told you my dear, no phones allowed in this hotel.” He held your phone with his two fingers, like it was something disgusting or smelly. You sighed while looking up at Alastor, as it was already the fifth time this week he had done this. He took your phone, gave you a lecture, and then make it disappear. “Why do you care so much? Plus how long have you been watching me? I thought you were up in your radio tower.” You said as you stood up, crossing your arms.

Alastor was slightly stunned for you to know how he was watching you from afar, as your secret admirer it was kind of hard to keep it in. “Well dear, we don’t want the V’s to get to us y’know, plus your eyes are glued to it, why not focus your eyes on me instead?” He tilted your head to look up at him. You slightly gulped with nervousness, but shook it off immediately.

“Whatever, I’m gonna go to my room, bye Al.” You scoffed as you sat up, walking to your own room. Alastor watched you walk away, sighing once out of his sight. He didn’t mean to make you annoyed at him, but it was just the honest truth.

You were obviously tired of Alastor doing this. As you slammed your door behind you, you plopped down on your soft bed, groaning in your pillow. You turned your head to the side to look at your clock on your bedside, with a picture of you and the others hanging out with each other, and having genuinely good time. You picked it up and smiled at it, and put the picture frame back.

After a few hours, you heard a knock on your door. You turn your head to ask, “Who is it?” No response. You sigh and open the door , you look down to see a little gift box. You pick it up and turn around, still having the door opened. You look at the tag that says, ‘From Alastor’ You smile at it, opening the box to see a letter and your souvenir.

You open the letter to read,

To my dearest,

I apologize for taking your phone, again.. I’m just saying all this and that because I don’t want the V’s to ruin the hotel, I hope you understand.. I let a souvenir for you so it hopefully distracts you from your electronic.

-Alastor

You smiled warmly again and hugged the souvenir and letter, appreciating it. You felt a pair of warm hands wrap around you from the back, making you stunned. Alastor snuggled his head into your neck, his smile cracking a little. He muttered, “I’m sorry, I hope you can forgive me” and snuggled closer, tightening his grip. You never seen him like this before, after all he was the Radio Demon.

“I forgive you.”

Pecking his cheek.

AGGHHHHH THIS IS SCTUALLY SO CUTEE

#hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor the radio demon #radio demon #fluff #snuggles #secret admirer #alastor x reader #oneshot #headcanon #alastor x female reader #character x reader

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introvertedx10 · 1 month

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#funny #lol #funny post #lolol #hilarious #comedy #secret admirer #its true

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mysicklove · 4 months

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i can imagine reader making little yuji snacks for school and sukuna would just steal them for himself

100%. happens until mr. nanami sends u an email saying that yuuji has been sharing food with megumi. when u find out, u force sukuna to prepare his lunchbox for the next couple weeks AND made sure that he wrote little note’s exactly as u did. yuuji comes home with the biggest grin on his face, and small handwritten notes that says things on the line of “i poisoned your food, brat” or “better enjoy this sandwich, it may be your last” LOLOL. poor megumi is traumatized at the notes while yuuji acts like he won the lottery

#💌 - love letters #secret admirer #big brother au

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maapllee · 2 months

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All The Stars~

BAKUGOU X SECRET ADMIRER PT.1

A/N: This idea has marinated in my head for wayyyy too many weeks, so here you go. There will be a part 2 to this.

P.S: Not proofread. Sorry for any mistakes.

ALL THE STARS~ PT.2 | ALL THE STARS~PT.3

It was the second day of school after the summer break. You peeked out from behind the wall at the lockers- your crush's locker. Your stomach grumbled in pain- ah, the sacrifices you make for love. Maybe this was a stupid idea, why would Katsuki fucking Bakugou reciprocate the sickening feelings you harboured towards him? You were better off staying his secret admirer.

Bakugou was the last person you'd imagine a puppy dog romance with. He surely wasn't worth skipping lunch for. What were you thinking anyway, hoping his love for you would blossom? Well, that's all it would be. Hope. You told yourself. Not that it would matter, the gifts inside were unsigned anyway.

Sighing, you turned to walk away- maybe you could convince Lunch Rush to let you have a peck or two before class started. Walking into the hallway, you scratched the back of your head as you felt a headache come on. Looking up, you saw Bakugou, Kirishima and the others walking towards the lockers. Scrambling, you ducked behind the staircase- Holy fucking shit. This was it. They hadn't noticed you, luckily. Not yet, at least. Your knuckles were white from grabbing the wall as you stood on your tippy toes, trying to get a closer look at his expression.

That idiotic blonde was screaming at Denki for electrocuting his lemonade or whatever- at least he saw that coming; what he didn't see was the hellish amount of confetti falling onto him as he opened his locker. The rest of the Bakusquad looked with their mouth open as you cowered behind the wall, blushing. You were grateful no one had noticed you yet. "Ooh, looks like someone's got the fancies for Bakubro ;)" Kaminari said, almost emoting in surprise, along with Kiri.

"What the actual fuck is this?" Bakugou grimaced, stepping on the now confetti-covered floor. He rummaged around his locker, pushing the confetti around to uncover boxes stacked on top of each other next to his textbooks. Pretty pink boxes adorned with ribbons, must I add. A neon orange sticky note taped to the topmost box stood out in contrast with the monochrome textbooks and grey metal of the locker. Bakugou had half a mind to throw it all away or blow up the entire locker. It wasn't worth the hassle anyway.

Denki snickered, peeling off the note that read 'High protein chocolate~' "Woaahh, real thoughtful, ain't it?" Kirishima said, elbowing Bakugou in the stomach. "I wonder who it isss~~" Mina piped up, opening one of the heart-shaped boxes to reveal chocolate-covered strawberries. Popping one in her mouth, she sighed, placing a hand on her cheek while relishing the flavour. "I wonder how they got all that confetti into your locker."

You took a deep breath in, relaxing your shoulders. One step at a time- You walked towards Bakugou. "I wonder who's masochistic enough to have a crush on Bakugou, let alone express themselves, hahaa-" you laughed, interrupted by a sharp jab on your ribs. "Aahh that hurt, y'know?" You sulked, rubbing the sore spot. "What kinda coward leaves this unsigned?" Bakugou grumbled, tearing up the note and resuming rummaging through his locker for his textbooks for Present Mic's class.

Katsuki Bakugou was not a kind man. You more than most people, knew that well. But Bakugou didn't mean to push you out of the way as he made his way out the hall. He didn't mean to bruise your chest. He didn't mean to hurt you.

#bakugou #bakugou x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #katsuki x reader #self insert #katsuki bakugo x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bakugou fanfiction #secret admirer #bakugou x secret admirer #bnha x secret admirer #mha x secret admirer #secret admirer reader

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opendirectories · 10 months

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#open directories #secret admirer #message #admirer #shy

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winterrrnight · 4 months

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secret admirer (rafe's pov)

PAIRING: high schooler!soft!rafe cameron x high schooler!fem!reader

SUMMARY: the reader has a secret admirer who drops letters, flowers and some other little souvenirs in their locker.

WARNINGS: so much lovesick rafe, fluff and fluff and fluff, extremely cute moments between the two

EDITH SPEAKS: and it's here!!! let's completely ignore the fact that it's been months since the original post :p please make sure you've read the original one first, because it's a bit more detailed and includes what rafe's letters say (you can find the original fic directly linked in my navigation or through the series masterlist!). I hope you all really enjoy this; this is a big piece of my heart in the form of writing 💓 please like and reblog and comment all your thoughts!!! 💘💘

navigation || requests || join my taglist || series masterlist

I walk in the school gates after my soccer practice, still in my sweaty clothes from the intense training. I look at the lockers on my left, carefully seeing the numbers on each of them so I don’t miss the one I’m looking for.

I finally find the one I’m looking for. Through one of the three little slits in the middle of the locker, I slide in my envelope. It has a letter and a little daisy in it. She’s like one; so delicate that I want to protect her from the whole world and only want her to be mine.

Because I do. She comes in my dreams every night, where she so delicately holds my hands and kisses my skin. I feel so lightweight that I will just melt right in her touch.

I look around the hallway, making sure no one sees me. When I notice no one, I take in a deep breath of relief and walk out of the school.

She needs to know how much she means to me. She needs to see how much I appreciate her.

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

I now try to send in an envelope as often as I can. I send one in every few days, and try to mix it around with the little souvenir that accompanies the letter. So far, I’ve sent her flowers, chocolates, and a small bracelet which I made for her.

But today, I woke up so late, I had to miss my soccer practice. My clothes aren’t on properly, and I didn’t even have any time to do something to my hair. I look like I just rolled out of the bed.

I have to be so discreet each time I put in the letter in the locker. I don’t want anyone catching me. That’s all I am: her secret admirer. The one who admires her from afar. The one who sends her little letters to remind her how beautiful she is, and how she deserves the whole world.

I have put in the letter without anyone noticing. I’m now standing right behind the turn of the hallway, where I have a clear look of her. She’s opening her locker. I notice a bright smile on her face when she sees the letter.

Suddenly, the bell rings, cutting through my thoughts. I notice her cursing and rushing to the class, the unopened letter in her bag. I have the same class as her: it’s English and there’s no way our teacher will let us in the class.

I rush to the class too, and by the time I reach, she’s already at the door, the teacher giving her an earful. Just as I stand right behind her, our teacher notices me.

“Oh looks like we have another late comer,” He says, glaring at me. She realizes my presence, and turns around to look at me. We make brief eye contact, and I feel my cheeks heat up. We’re standing close to each other, so close that I can hear her breathing.

“I’m so sorry, I swear I set an alarm but it didn’t ring and-” I start to ramble, but the teacher cuts me off.

“DETENTION! Both of you!” He suddenly yells at the two of us. I watch her flinch, and just for a second, I have the urge of breaking the teacher’s face. He signs two detention slips and hands those to us, and then he dismisses us by closing the door on our faces.

She looks down at the slip at her hand. She hates getting detention. She’s the nice, intelligent student of our grade, and she tries to stay out of detention as much as she can.

She looks up to me and we make brief eye contact again. Oh her eyes. I find myself drowning in them each time I see her.

“Shall we go?” I ask her, wanting her to look at me with those beautiful eyes of hers. But she doesn't lift her head up, and only gives me a nod. We both start to make our way to the detention classroom.

When we reach inside, we only see our PE teacher sitting. He’s too busy reading his magazine and doesn’t realize we both have walked in until we sit down.

“Just two of you?” He looks at us, and she nods in response. “Well that's going to be a waste of my time.” He shuts his magazine close and leaves it on the desk, starting to make a beeline for the door.

“I’ll be here in an hour to let you both out. Don't do anything dumb, you're being watched.” He says and quickly leaves the room, me and her being all alone.

A silence wraps around the two of us, and it feels very serene. I pull out one of my books to read, but I falter at keeping my focus on the words because of her sitting next to me. I can’t help but steal a glance of her after every few seconds, and I swear with each passing second, she just gets more beautiful.

When she opens her bag, she pulls out the letter. I intake a sharp breath, and watch her open the envelope and read the words written on them. A smile graces her lips as her eyes wander over the words, and I feel my heart skip a beat.

“What’s that?” The words leave my mouth so quickly, I don’t realize I’ve spoken them. She snaps her head towards me.

“Nothing,” she says, focussing on folding the paper back again and putting it back in the envelope.

“Looks like a love letter, someone's been writing you love letters?” I pose the question, wanting not to show I’m the one who wrote it.

“Maybe?”

Why is she not as happy as I thought she would be?

“What do you mean, maybe?”

She sighs. “I’ve been receiving these letters which have poetry in French written in them. They usually come along with a little gift, like a small flower or some chocolate. But, there’s no name on the paper whatsoever, so I have no way of knowing who it is, if it’s legit or if someone is playing a prank on me.”

“I don’t think it’s a prank, you know.” She looks back at me, her eyes wide as they sink into mine.

“You don’t?”

“Someone maybe likes you a lot, and is, I don’t know, scared to admit it to you.” I say, shaking my head.

“But, why do you think it’s not a prank? And how are you so sure it is an actual love letter?”

I feel myself almost starting to get riled up; angry because why does she refuse to accept something like that?

“Why is it so hard for you to believe that it can be an actual love letter? That someone actually likes you a lot? You're an amazing person, don't decline the thought of someone being your admirer so easily.” I blurt out, and just the second I finish speaking, I realize I’ve said too much.

I look away from her the next instant, and try to direct all my focus on my work, ignoring the heat rising in my cheeks.

I hear her whisper a small thank you, and as much as I try not to, I steal a small glance at her, her head bent down as she's looking over her school work.

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

With the incident at the detention, I decide I have to send her letters every single day, with more gifts in them, my love hidden in each one of them safely, but surely.

I see her opening her locker and finding the letter. I included a daisy chain which I learnt how to make from Sarah, more chocolates and two new bracelets.

I had to stay up overnight to finish making the chain and the bracelets, but it’s all worth it.

It’s for her.

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

It was one of the first days of last summer, when I was biking around, waiting for some of my friends to meet up with me. They all had decided to meet up at a new place which I had never been to. Taking different roads and turns, I found myself in unfamiliar areas of the island.

As I continued to bike, I found a big field which I didn’t even know existed. Curious, I got off my bike and went inside the field, and found out it’s actually a huge strawberry field. Strawberries were growing on low lying plants, a bright red color making them pop out from the green of the leaves.

I was completely amazed by them. I followed their path to find a huge opening in the field with a huge tree in the middle. But before I could take any steps further, I saw her sitting under the shade of the tree, protecting herself from the bright summer sun as she was eating the strawberries. She looked so serene; sitting cross legged and biting into those strawberries, sighing as their sweet taste completely encompassed her.

Since then I always see her going on the little road which leads to the huge field, biking her way to it. Now that strawberries are back in season, I have decided to put some of those in her letter next time, and even spend some time there as I try to write some new letters to her.

I decide to go around at least 2 hours before her usual time, so she doesn't see me there at all. With my notepad, my fountain pen, ink bottle and my basket, I find myself in the strawberry field again, taking a deep breath to inhale the sweet smelling air surrounding me.

I sit under the tree, taking my notepad and my pen to begin writing, but, much to my dismay, I don't feel inspired and no words come to my help to write something. Even with a big inspiration right in front of me, I just can't think of something to write.

Frustrated, I leave my notepad under the tree and decide to gather some strawberries. I make my way in between the plants, trying to pluck only the ripest of the ripe strawberries.

Having to walk around in the dirt for so long results in dirt over my face and my clothes, but that doesn't matter to me.

“Just a few more,” I whisper, bending down at one of the bunches of strawberries to pluck them. I look at my basket, which is quite full, but I know I can get some more.

I find myself satisfied with my collection as I look at my full basket. The strawberries shine under the evening shade of the sun, the golden rays making them glow.

I start to walk back out to the tree, but just as I come back out, I spot her looking at me.

Oh shit.

I spent way too much time than I intended and now she's here.

“Oh, hey,” I say awkwardly, as she looks back at me with the same confusion as me.

“I didn’t expect to see you here, what are you doing here?” She questions me.

I can’t tell her why I’m here. I have to make something up.

"Nothing, just... just getting some of these strawberries. I've heard they're really good," I say, walking towards her. I try my best to exude confidence, to show her I’m firm in what I’m pretending to do here.

“How did you... how did you find out about this place? I come here almost every single day and I never see you here. Why suddenly today?”

I see it.

I see the hunger to know everything in her eyes.

I know she has seen my notepad and my pen, just lying there under the shade of the tree.

I know she suspected it when I said too much during the detention. She's set on knowing the truth about everything, about me being the one who drops little words of love in her locker each day, and proving her own assumptions right.

I'm standing silently in front of her, trying to find the right words to start with, and she's looking at me expectantly, waiting for me to start speaking.

“Why do you have that notepad with you, with that fountain pen?” She prompts.

We’ve come too far.

It’s time I tell it all to her.

“For you. It's all for you. It's all always been for you.” I whisper. “These,” I say, motioning to the basket in my hands, “these are for you too.”

"But... why me?” She mutters, her eyes directed towards everywhere but at me.

"Because," I walk closer to her, and with all the confidence in me, I place my finger under her chin and gently push it up so she can only look at me. I feel my hand almost shaking from getting to touch her. “I want you to know how special you are. You deserve nothing but love, and this is just me showing you that.” I move my hand towards her cheek, placing it comfortably. When I see she doesn't show any signs of discomfort, I feel myself starting to get relaxed, my heartbeat taking control over its speed. I feel her cheek radiate heat through my hand.

“But-” she starts, but I cut her off.

“No buts. I told you this before too, why are you not willing to believe that you are so worthy of being loved and appreciated? That there is someone who’s ready to do this all for you, but that wouldn’t be special now, would it? That’s what everyone does. And then my purpose of showing you that I’m not like everyone else and how I will shower you with love every single second of my life is defeated. I will bring you the moon, all you have to do is just ask.”

I say it.

I say it all in a single breath.

Every single emotion I experience when I see her is out in the open for her to see. I feel vulnerable, as if my protective top layer has been scratched away, but not roughly. It’s peeled off carefully, like we peel an orange for a loved one.

But for some reason, she doesn’t seem completely satisfied with all I have to say.

“Why me?”

I sigh, knowing we're both about to take a trip down memory lane.

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

I was playing in the sand all by myself, trying my best to make a castle out of it, but my attempts failed me. I was bored; sitting all alone in the sand pit with no one with me. I watched everyone else in the playground, running and laughing with their friends, while I was left all alone.

My attention was directed towards the swings, and a huge smile graced my face when I saw it was empty. It was nearly never empty, always being hogged by the rest of the kindergarteners. I rushed to it and sat on one of them, starting to swing back and forth.

I had just started to enjoy the swing, when a huge group of bullies made its way towards me.

“Hey, give us the swing!” Greg, their leader, demanded. I felt myself getting scared, almost trembling, but I didn't want to give the bullies the satisfaction that they had made me scared.

“No!” I said, tightening my grip on the swings and trying to glare at them; to show they didn't scare me. But that only seemed to anger Greg more, because with just one motion of his head, all of his friends charged towards me. They pulled me away from my swing and threw me on the ground with a loud thud, and I screamed at the pain inflicted to me. I started crying as I helped myself up with all my strength to see Greg laughing at me as he sat on his swing.

I felt lost. No teacher came up to help me, despite there being many in the playground to oversee everything. I sat up properly, sniffling, and I noticed my bruises covering my knees.

But suddenly, I felt the sunlight being blocked in front of me, and I looked up to see you.

You were standing in front of me, a gentle smile on your face as you let out your hand for me. My eyes were wide seeing you being so gentle towards me. I took your hand and you pulled me up, and led me to your teacher in your classroom.

I remember her being shocked at my condition. She took me away from you and started to apply an antiseptic on my knees, which spread a burning sensation. I whined at the feeling, wanting it to end at that instant.

She very carefully applied band aids on my wounds, and gave me a little pat on my cheek, and called me a ‘strong boy’. She left me, and you came in just the next second, taking me to your table in the classroom.

I saw you curiously as you opened up your bag and rummaged through it. You pulled out a lollipop, and handed it to me.

“You are so brave,” you said, and I felt my heart racing at your comment.

“Thank you,” I said, taking the lollipop from your hand.

It was strawberry flavored.

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

“From that day, I've never stopped looking at you. As we grew older, I knew you were the one I wanted to be with, and I wanted to reciprocate all that you've done for me. It's not just the lollipop, throughout all the years you've been there for me when no one else was, I just don't want you to think that your efforts go unappreciated.” I finish.

She's looking at me with wide eyes, her breathing getting heavier.

She knows why she means the whole universe to me.

She knows why I would travel to the other side of the world to get her her favorite kind of flowers.

“Rafe,” she starts, but tears start to blur her eyes. I move my thumbs to her cheeks to quickly wipe them off, before they fall off her face.

“This is nothing compared to what you've done for me, those chocolates, little verses of poetry, bracelets, they don't amount to the things you've done for me in any way. But I just want to show you how amazing you are, and how you deserve the nicest things in the world.” I whisper.

Before I can process what is happening, her lips are pressed against mine, my eyes shut close as I feel her so close to me. My lips move against hers gently, and I feel her pull me closer to her with her arms around my neck.

She pulls away and gently rests her forehead against mine. My eyes are still shut, and I'm afraid if I'll open them up, I'll wake up from the most serene dream I've ever had.

"Je t'aime. Aujourd'hui. Ce soir. Demain. Pour toujours. Su je vivais mille ans, he t'appartiendrais pour tous. Si je vivais mille vies, je te ferais mienne dans chaacune d'elles." I whisper, taking in a deep breath to let the moment settle in me.

“I love you. Today. Tonight. Tomorrow. Forever. If I were to live a thousand years, I would belong to you for all of them. If I were to live a thousand lives, I would want to make you mine in each one.”

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

TAGLIST: @runningfrom2am @saccharinesammie @maybankslover @totalswag @madelynie @chenslucy @ietss @elle-mp3 @viawritesstuff @wallsdreams @tahliac11 @sadfury @newsies-pape-girl @jamesbuckybarneswify @xxxlaura @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @callsignwidow

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mj-thrush-gxn · 4 months

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Sophomore Slump

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hopelessrromantix · 10 months

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Can I have top reader fucking Steven somewhere like a alley or bathroom and he is trying really hard to be quiet but it's very hard because reader is fucking him so hard and good that he can't help but make noise. And can I be🦑 anon if you dont mind.

No YOU took like a year for this request....... shh

Have this as an apology 🦑 <3

“Pleasepleaseplease”

“Please what, Steven?”

If he was honest, he didn’t know what he was begging for. Did he want you to stop? Keep going? He hadn’t really thought that far ahead.

“Please what?” You said firmly, pausing your thrusts inside him. It was an easy decision from there.

“Please fuck me.” He asked, trying to keep his voice as low as possible.

The museum’s bathroom was clear for now, but that could change at any moment. And Steven really wasn’t ready to explain anything in case someone came looking for him.

“Was that so hard?” You asked, sliding out slowly, prompting a high pitched whine from Steven. You slapped his ass in response.

“Don’t want anyone to hear you, sweetheart, do we?” You questioned. He shook his head rapidly, half-distracted by the feeling of your tip lining up with his hole again.

He choked back noise when you pushed in, the only sound escaping was a high whine that slowly died down.

Usually that would’ve helped in keeping quiet, if the sound of your hips hitting his ass wasn’t so loud.

“Slow down, slow, please! Someone’s gonna hear!” Steven reminded, hoping you’d actually listen.

He got no such luck.

“I don’t hear anyone right now, do I?” You asked, the smirk in your voice audible. “Just keep quiet and take it.”

You thrust into him deeper, hitting a spot that made his moan, prompting him to quickly cover his own mouth. He was barely paying attention anymore though, too focused on the feeling of you fucking him to be reasonable.

“Getting loud there, baby.” You reminded. “You want someone to hear you like this? Whoring yourself out at work?”

Steven shook his head rapidly, but another thrust hit deep, forcing out another small moan. You laughed at him, practically forcing him to cum against the stall’s wall.

“Please cum inside? Please? Wanna feel you fill me up.” He begged, fully knowing he had a good hour before you had to go home. “Just wanna feel you cum,” His begging got repetitive, the soft sounds of his plea echoing through the bathroom. Looks like he didn’t care much about being quiet anymore.

You leaned into him, your chin settling in the crook of his neck. “Just because you asked nicely.”

You gave a few more thrusts, slamming him into the wall, forcing out another moan. Cum dripped down his cock slowly as he felt you cum inside him as deep as you could manage.

You took a second to pull out of him, doing so slowly (against Steven’s wishes).

You pulled up his boxers, staining the fabric with the cum slowly dripping down his legs.

“I can fill you again when we get home,” You reassured, slapping his ass, and prompting a shudder from him, both in terror and delight.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

#secret admirer #dom male reader #top male reader #male reader #x reader #letters from roman #letters to marvel #letters to steven grant #steven grant x reader #steven grant x male reader #sub steven grant #steven grant smut #moon knight x male reader #moon knight x reader

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shinjisdone · 7 months

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When You Have An Secret Admirer - And Doubt Them

A love letter was left at your door and now you are searching for that ‘secret admirer’ - but you doubt it's true. Perhaps you don't believe it yourself or are trying to push the obvious infatution under the rug...whatever your reason may be, your dear classmates do not believe you.

Been feeling sick so here's a spin-off of the spin-off of your classmates replies when you say:

"I don't think anyone would like me like that..."

Raising his brow, he scoffed. "Ya don't get it. Listen, the only reason someone would go out of this daaaarn big way is either 'cuz they're a total idiot dork or have a massive big crush on you. And lucky you! For you both option are the case!" Sweat rolled down his jaw as he winked. -Ace

"Uhm," His mouth became dry and his eyes avoided yours. "I-I don't think - I mean, w-why wouldn't they? Like, the roses and chocalates...the notes and...mirror, I guess...that's all romantic. Y-You're a great person and...I'm sure that admirer thinks so, too." He wishes to say more but his tongue was tied. -Deuce

"Whuat? Of course they do! Have you seen the talks and Hearts on MagiCam? Some totally envy you!" His hand lowers to his pocket but decided against fishing out his phone. Instead, he threw his arm around your shoulder. "C'mon, juniour! Have a bit more confidence in yourself! Y'know, if it wasn't for your admirer, I would have long sent you these lovey-dovey stuff. Maybe in a different way though, haha!" -Cater

A sheepish chuckle escaped him. "Oh, come on. Don't be like that. It's clear as that day that someone fancies you and there's nothing wrong with that. You get your senior's allowance to indulge in the attention!" Laughing, he hoped he could ease the tension through his lies. -Trey

He cleared his throat. Something like this wasn't his forte. "I...am not an expert in...love and courting - Well, what I mean is that anyone can see that you are very much admired by someone. You are...a very great person so of course you'd be liked. When someone goes out of their way to break several rules like that, their affection must be greater than the Queen's for her little King." -Riddle

Clicking his tongue, he rolled over to his side. "Why are you making a fuss about that? You're gonna break your little head over this, herbivore. Why don't you stop this belittling and confront that little admirer yourself and find out? If you have the guts to go into the lion's den, then you can go and ask a coward that, too." -Leona

"Huh," For a moment, he avoided your gaze and the corner of his lips twitched. "Well, I dunno. Why shouldn't anyone? If no one liked yer guts, then they would have looooong ripped you off or something - good thing I was there all the time but nothin' happened even when I wasn't there - what I mean is, no, you are likable, dummy. Shihishi..." He cackled nervously. -Ruggie

"I wouldn't know anything about that." Quickly clearing his throat, he tried to hide his flushed face, "As in...I don't know if I would agree with you. Someone wouldn't just do this for fun...I don't know anyone, in and outside of NRC, who would do this for fun, so..." He scratched his neck and hoped you'd catch his intentions. -Jack

"Wha," Sheepish laughter rang, "Oh, why...of course you'd be! Why wouldn't you be...why wouldn't they..." His hands reached for the papers on his desk as he failed to sort them, "If there are any doubts...Monstro Longue can also provide solutions for that. But only for doubts...after all, you are l-likable..." -Azul

"Nonsense. I think you are quite charming. Or, could it be that you are playing the humble one? Trying to fool the rest while you are indulging in all the love your admirer provides?" A smarmy giggle. "I jest. But even so, that would make you even cuter." -Jade

Cackling rung. "Huuuh? Actually, yeah, you're right!" He giggled and squeezed in closer into your personal space. "You are such a lost cause, Shrimpy...ya should stick with peeps like me and Jade! Rather just with me, yeah? That admirer-schmirer has been gettin' on my nerves recently and I barely got any time to squeeze you...give up on this landpeople mambo-jambo and stick with me~. -Floyd

At first he blinked in confusion yet his shining grin came a second after. "No way. You're so great! And so interesting and fun and cute!" He almost seemed like his usual self until he noticed who you two were talking about. At that, his grin vanished. "Oh...well, if I can see that, then the admirer totally too! Maybe even more than me since they shower you in so many gifts..." -Kalim

"Well, obviously not since you got a good old secret admirer like from a rom-com." His smile crooked, he hoped you'd at least chuckle but he quickly corrected himself. Best if he doesn't continue to be this nonchalant. "I'm just kidding...though not about you likable. Give yourself more credit...you deserve it." -Jamil

"Huh? What's with that...self-pityin' party - I mean, as in, that ain't true. Yer a...fine and dandy person, I mean - why wouldn'tcha be??? That kinda talk is only gonna bring you down and yer better than that. Far, far, better. Hell, you got a flyin' mirror-" -Epel

Laughter echoed and you weren't sure if it was mocking at first. "Cher Trickster, could it be that these grande professions of love are not enough?! How can you still not see that you are the apple of someone's eye? Not even I could top that! Tell me, my dear, shall I be your second admirer to prove to you how lovely you are?" -Rook

He raised a brow. "Bring me my phone for a second. Should we go over the amount of attention I get from millions of people and compare them to the over-the-top admiration of your one and only admirer? They went out of the way to insult me to compliment you. You are someone's diamond, potato." -Vil

For a moment you wondered if he even heard you. Staying still as a candle, he tried his best to avoid your gaze while his face was flushed red. "...W-W-W-W-Wha-What do you ask m-me that...??? I-I mean, if there is someone unlikable here it would be m-me...y-y'know...?" He hoped you get what he means. -Idia

"According to data I collected requested by big bro - I mean, happened to collect, there is a 0000000.01% chance that you are unbelievable, unequally unlikable." -Ortho

"You think so?" He scratched his chin, "That kind of mindset is not going to get you far. In fact, I believe you do not understand how much comfort you bring by your mere presence. If you doubt it, I can always remind you of it." -Malleus

Laughing, he slapped his knee. "Seriously? You get the exact cookie-cutter version of a highschool secret admirer sweetheart! I read those in old-school manga! And you still doubt that?" He sighs, "Trust me, be a bit more confident. Amazing things can happen if you let them." -Lilia

"Hm? But...you are being admired. By afar, by someone who truly seems to treasure you. You are like a treasure if you see it that way...ah, nevermind me. Please, believe in yourself more. I do." -Silver

"Ugh, really now?! IF I can see it, then you should see it too! It's like you are covering your own eyes! You! Are! An! Object! Of! Affectioooooonnnn!!!" -Sebek

holy shit im never doing something like this in one post again hhuuuuuaaaaaaahh

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hitlikehammers · 2 months

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a Valentine's-flavoured cuddly-loose-lipped-secret-spilling-hopped-up-on-cold-medicine!Eddie

(and his ever-devoted boyfriend Steve who he's been crushing on since high school but that part's a secret was a secret)

for @thoroughlycollected: featuring the (actually kind of horrible) way schools would sell carnations for $1 or something for Valentine's Day to anonymously deliver to your crush

It turns out that Eddie under the influence comes in a variety of flavors.

High Eddie is languid, touchier than he’s normally prone to which is fucking saying something, and weirdly philosophical. He talks about alternate universes beyond the Upside Down as a meta-something concept. He theorizes how maybe he died in another dimension but some weird particle-subversion-something-something-whatever couldn’t survive re-sublimation in the Right-Side-Up and honestly when the big-brain bullshit skirts the edges of Eddie’s mortality Steve is here for all of none of that part, because Eddie’s heart was beating under Steve’s hands the whole goddamn time, sometimes maybe coaxed by Steve’s hands but from the moment Steve found him and Dustin to the moment he let go at the hospital he didn’t not feel Eddie’s heart beating, and he knew that not least because he would have come apart at the seams if that’s happened, he would have crumbled entirely for losing, or almost-losing, or thinking even close to losing the potential, the promise between them they’d barely skirted but that’d rooted heavy and at home in Steve’s chest already and fuck, fuck—

When Eddie philosophizes in general usually Steve just hangs on his every word, mesmerized by the beauty of him top of bottom, inside and out: somehow all Steve’s. But when his philosophizing leans toward that Steve’s own heartbeat does some weird shit that the weed can’t claim whole credit for and he grabs Eddie hard every time and kisses him until he’s dizzy with it, until they both are, until Eddie’s reduced just to blinking for at least five whole minutes and by that point High Eddie’s on to another topic altogether.

Which is for the best.

By comparison: Drunk Eddie is a lovelorn bastard, a little bit teary with it sometimes even, but always clingy and a touch extra possessive, sappier than he gets on even his most sappy days. One time he told Steve that no, he couldn’t let him go to take a piss because, and Steve remembers this word for word: there’s stardust in my body that’s in your body and that shit’s like magnets, Stevie, like magnets or whatever so my heart’s like pulled to your heart and if you go away without me ever you’ll rip my heart out—because like, a guy remembers that kind of declaration shouted into his ear over the music at a bar that’s safe enough that they’d get away with the excuse that Eddie was plastered, for the way he was hanging on Steve, but thank fuck the lighting was shitty enough that no one could see the flush on Steve’s cheeks, and thank fuck even more that no one could see his magnet-heart and how pounded something wild for the way Eddie draped over him and pressed full against his chest and nuzzled under his chin and made the kind of declarations that Steve had kinda been searching and hoping for all his life.

Drunk or not.

But then there’s another flavor, a specific one: and that’s medicated Eddie. And that Eddie, that cough-medicine-soaked-to-the-gills Eddie?

He’s an adorably giggly little fuck, is what he is.

“I’ll feel better by Saturday,” he lolls his head over to Steve’s shoulder where they sit beside one another, Eddie properly bundled in three blankets with a Sprite in hand. “Pinky-promise,” he slurs a little, but it might just be the stuffed-up nose doing the heavy lifting on garbling his words, and then fuck, of course the dipshit reaches up to seal the deal like the absolutely irresistible goofball he is, and always: snot-coated and all.

“Just rest up, babe,” Steve pulls him close with an arm around around his shoulder, dropping a firm kiss to his forehead: still warmer than Steve would like, in all honesty: “forget about Saturday,” and he means that with his whole chest, because fuck reservations and flowers and boxes of the chocolates Eddie likes best from the city—his boyfriend is sick, his boyfriend is hurting, and there is kinda not a single more important thing than that, than attending to that and making it hurt even the slightest bit less of he’s able, if it’s in his power.

“But we had,” Eddie sniffles heavily, loud and almost painful-sounding; “we had plans,” he whines, and turns toward Steve with overbright-eyes, far too watery:“our first,” he says it like it’s a heartbreak unto itself, bottom little quivering, and fuck.

Steve smiles though he hurts for Eddie right now so hard, want to take all the aching into himself it to spare this beautiful man for a fucking second, just he reaches and traces lilting patters around Eddie’s eyes, his browbone, his jaw, slow down to press soft at his lips:

“You not planning on having many more?” Steve asks soft, a little playful, a little leading: he likes to hear it, and often: that Eddie’s in this as deep and true and Steve is. For the long haul.

“All the more,” Eddie sing-songs sniffily, which is both pathetic and adorable, tugs at Steve’s heartstrings and the corners of his lips alike; “alllll of the more, Stevie-baby,” he draws out in promise, crosses his heart uncoordinated for feeling fuzzy with his cold and being fully cocooned in blankets and again: adorable and pathetic and perfect.

The man’s fucking perfect, even when he’s all stuffed-up and curled sick on the couch.

“Got you the best presents,” he adds on dreamily with a little chuckle, the high-pitched airy kind that float in the air between like bubbles; “so much better than all the other ones,” he adds kinda petulantly, pouts full around the words and maybe it’s the cough medicine, or the fuzziness Steve knows well comes with both the cold itself and the remedies to help alike; he brushes his lips against Eddie’s forehead just to be safe and Eddie giggles a little and leans full-bodied into Steve, unbalanced for the swaddling of most of his frame and that just makes him laugh all the more: he’s no more feverish than he had been, which was admittedly barely, just more than Steve liked, but: yeah.

Yeah, that’s…he kinda guesses it all could combine to have Eddie spewing kinda nonsense, and he probably should just smile and pull his boyfriend closer in his arms and cuddle him some more but he’s both curious and concerned, which turns out to be a potent mix, so:

“Other ones?”

“Mmm,” Eddie hums long and warm as he snuggles up to Steve a little closer, and Steve stretches an arm around him wholly, settles him flush to his chest: “but shh, don’t tell, okay?”

And Eddie sounds breathless, which piques Steve worry alongside the bright flush he finds on Eddie’s cheeks when he looks down: his eyes are fairly clear and…no, forehead’s still the same temperature, not clammy or anything, and Eddie’s just preening as he lazily tips his face up to receive more kisses, mostly unaware that Steve’s attentions serve any other purpose than loving on him.

And , well, no: they really don’t, it’s just the love’s multi-layered here, just now. It’s love, and it’s devotion, and it’s dedication to Eddie’s general wellbeing all wrapped into one. So: yeah.

“Swear,” Steve decides to play along, hoping for clues as to just how loopy Eddie’s ended up for one end of the sick-stick or the other; “what’s up, baby?” he draws circles over the harsh jut of Eddie’s clavicle, little massages that Eddie eats up with a dimpley grin as he sighs, back to the dreamy-tone again:

“Flowers.”

Steve buries a little smile into Eddie’s tangly tresses, because like…

“You got me flowers?”

No one’s ever really gotten Steve flowers.

“Noooo,” Eddie giggles and shakes his head under Steve’s chin as he buries closer into Steve’s chest, stretches Steve’s already mostly unbuttoned shirt out to damn well nuzzle the fuzz of curls beneath, and he makes this fucking…soft little half-whine that’s almost a purr, that vibrates straight through Steve’s ribs and his heart goddamn flutters, fucking hell—

“But that’s a great idea, can you remind Eddie tomorrow?” he pulls back with those fucking button eyes so big, as he talks about himself like he’s another person with such innocence then chuckles, burrowing against in Steve’s chest:

“I’d love to buy you good flowers, the nice kind, not the ones in a ten-gallon bucket sitting getting brown,” and his voice is all frown but…adorable, fuck, he’s such a fucking adorable drugged-up sicko, Steve can’t really handle this shit.

“And it was so sad,” he sniffles against Steve��s chest, and hell if Steve knows if it’s congestion or something like…mounting? Because he’s so sad? “The white ones, because they got brown so fast and, and,” and his words get caught up as his lungs rebel, as he sneezes, shakes from his core and Steve’s hands grab for him, tighten around him fiercely and Eddie gives into that protective instinct in Steve like clockwork, magnetic and automatic and Steve loves him so goddamn fucking much.

He presses his lips to Eddie’s temple as Eddie catches his breath and groans a little; kisses his over-warm skin just because.

“Carnations,” Eddie sniffles once he gets his bearings back enough; “are symbolssss,” he draws out long like a sloppy hiss; “of devohhh,” and he coughs a little, and pouts at being interrupted so he huffs heavier on the last syllable: “shun.”

De…devotion? Fucking…carnations?

Shit, Steve hasn’t seen a carnation, at least not knowingly; not since—

“And white ones mean pure,” Eddie rambles, all nasally but indignant anyhow, somehow; “so white carnations would be pure devotion,” and Eddie untucks himself from Steve’s chest for a second to look at him straight on with a little wobbly grin.

“You didn’t even notice, did you,” Eddie says, and there’s no sadness in it; but fuck, Steve…

Steve might fucking, like, start fucking crying.

Because he knows exactly what Eddie’s talking about, now.

“I noticed,” because it was the fucking carnations, the last time he thought about them: Hawkins High School, where they decided to hold up the horrible preteen tradition of anonymous flowers delivered for Valentine’s Day, so three people could be reminded they were the top of the fucking food chain with a pile of crushed flowers still dripping from their buckets of water, the little colored-paper tags soggy with the writing unreadable, while the rest of the school got to feel less-than when they got nothing, and Steve got more than his share even in the years after he toppled from on high in the social hierarchy, but they’d never mattered to him, they’d kinda made him feel uncomfortable. Except—and he could never explain it, but it was predictable, it happened every fucking year—in the collection of reds and pinks there was always one that stood out, all on it’s own.

A white one; Steve never even caught that they’d gone brown at the edges.

“Every year I noticed,” he exhales, and breathes Eddie in from the top of his head because, because—

Every year? Meant…meant every year. Freshman on up.

“My heart used to do this thing,” Steve murmurs against Eddie’s scalp, kinda; and yeah, it’s basically doing the same goddamn thing right now, a little trippy and dizzy and just…it’d scared him a little.

He recognizes now it’s how his chest feels when what he’s doing, where he is, who he’s with, who he holds inside tight close with him: it’s how his chest feels when what he’s doing is right.

“When I saw the white ones,” Steve whispers, and kisses against Eddie’s hair again, and again, because god; “only one person ever sent those.”

“Sometimes I’d have to run, like, hide in the gym showers so no one would know it was me,” Eddie matches his whisper, almost conspiratorial as he reaches out for Steve hand and Steve’s more than happy to meet him, to grasp tight, so tight; “hated gym, did you know that?”

“Oh, I had no idea,” Steve deadpans as he nuzzles Eddie’s hair, while Eddie goes back to nuzzles his chest, and Eddie’s breathing starts to even out and Steve thinks maybe he’s asleep, but then—

“Stevie?”

“Yeah, baby?” Steve wraps his arm around Eddie a little tighter.

“You’ll remind me about the flowers?” he asks, so goddamn soft; “wanna buy the best white carnations you’ve ever seen in your whole life.”

And Steve promises, yeah, of course—except: he kinda thinks maybe he already got the best ones years ago, again, and again.

He won’t discourage more of the very best, though, so long as Eddie’s the one next to him, handing them to him face to face, no hiding anywhere, just: them.

Pure devotion.

✨ ao3 link here

permanent tag list (comment to be added): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson

♥️

divider credit here

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #fluff #established relationship #established steddie #domestic fluff #valentine's day #sickfic #but like: eddie's a sniffly-cuddly-bundle-of-cough-medicine #and steve is a doting and caring and adoring boyfriend about it #secret time: eddie's been crushing on steve since high school #high school carnation sales #secret admirer #happy ending #or: happy-SAPPY ending #stranger things

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starlumin · 4 months

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Secret admirer

#my art #experimenting with style #saw #saw franchise #sawposting #adam stanheight #lawrence gordon #chainshipping #saw movies #I quite like how it turned out #secret admirer

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morlao · 4 months

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Secret Admirer

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■ friends to lovers

■ Isaac Garcia x fem!reader

Valentine's Day or in other words: that real fun time of the year where boys buy roses for their crush and (since most of them give the roses anonymously) girls try to find out who the rose is from. It was always really funny, especially when it involved one of your friends. Last year Kiley was the lucky one. She was invited on a date, a blind date, and she came home super excited, telling you and your friends that it was a guy from the Football team.

This year you are sure it would be Jackie. You and Skylar have a bet about who would make the first move. He says Cole, you say Alex. Your chances of winning are quite high since you and Kiley are telling Alex for weeks that this would be the perfect opportunity for him.

Jackie herself doesn't seem so sure about getting a rose at all. When you meet up with her in school she and Grace are talking about it. "No Grace, Cole is with Erin, he for sure won't get me a rose!" "Bullshit." "Grace!"

"Oh, come on Jackie," you sigh, joining Grace's side, "I'm pretty sure you'll get at least one rose today." The blush that starts to rise to Jackie's face makes your grin even wider. "And you know that too", you tease her.

Jackie clears her throat, grabs her backpack and stands up. "Okay, time for class, we can talk later" You know exactly that she is just trying to avoid this topic but nevertheless you nod. "Yeah, classes", you murmur with absolutely no motivation.

Slowly you start walking into class. Of course there are already a bunch of roses lying on some of the desks. The girls stand around them and whisper excitedly, while sometimes stealing glances towards the boys. You walk to your place and... Wait, there is a rose on YOUR desk. For a moment you stand there, confused and in disbelief. You have never received a rose before. You also have no idea who might have put it there. Maybe the boy put it on the wrong desk by accident. It for sure isn't meant for you. You would have noticed if someone had a crush on you, wouldn't you? At least if the boy showed it as obvious as Cole and Alex did concering Jackie.

When you are finally able to break free of your paralysis you slowly start walking towards it. Only then do you notice the little note that was attached to it. Your heart starts to race as you see that your name is written on it. It is no accident, the rose is really for you! You take a look around, searching for any suspicious behaviour, but nobody seems to act strange. With your fingers trembling you unfold the paper and stare at the few lines that were written there by computer.

"Y/N, I've been in love with you for quite a while now. I hope you like the rose."

Of course you couldn't wait for the lessons to end. As soon as the bell rings, you storm out of the classroom, nearly bumping into one of your classmates, and run to the cafeteria to meet up with your friends.

"Guys, I got a rose and a note!"

Immediately they all gather around you, almost ripping the note out of your hands as each one of them wants to read it. "Do you have any idea who it could be?" Jackie sounds super excited. "Nope, sadly not. Could be anyone." You try to think about whether someone acted strange around you. Nothing unusual.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Isaac walks up behind you and tries to get a look at the note. Hastily you try to cover it with your hands. Yes, he was one of your closest friends and yes you trusted him with your life but you also knew that he could be a real pain in the ass especially when it came to boys.

The last time you mentioned that Cole was cute he complained so loudly that all the girls were crazy about Cole that the whole cafeteria heard it. You had never felt so embarrassed in your whole life. Also the next week Cole kept walking up to you with his arrogant grin, asking if you would like to come to his place that night. It took several weeks for him to stop.

Quickly you snatch the note away from him. "Nothing, just..." "You got a love letter!" "No that's not..." You sigh as you don't know what else to call it. It is right, it is a love letter. "Okay, yes I got a love letter and I also got a rose. Don't ask who it is, I don't know." Isaac looks at you, his dark eyes sparkeling as he teases you. "Who do you want it to be?"

You feel all your friends' eyes on you. A very good question. Who did you want it to be? A year ago you would have immediately answered Cole. But now... of course you still think that he is very attractive - nobody would deny that - but his behaviour and the rumors about him making out with numerous girls even though he seems to be with Erin, made you change your mind. You wouldn't want to be with someone who plays you like a toy and gives you mixed feelings or even a roller coaster of emotions.

If you were completely honest, lately you catch yourself often thinking about Isaac. Why didn't you notice before how handsome he actually is? Maybe because you knew him practically since kindergarten. He had always been one of your best friends, it would be weird to see him as more. Or wouldn't it?

You blush as you notice that your friends are still staring at you, waiting for your answer. What should you say? Your eyes dart across the room and the first one you see is... "Er... Dylan. Yeah... I think I might have a crush on Dylan."

Isaac's shoulders tense. "Dylan?!" He almost spits out the name, then he rolls his eyes murmuring something about bad taste in men before walking away.

Kiley looks at you, ignoring him completely. "Do you think the note could maybe be from Dylan?" You shrug, as you didn't really care if it was him or not. "That's the worst about it... I have absolutely no idea who it could be."

The following days you all do your best to find out more about your secret admirer but it seems to be impossible. He really did his best to stay anonymous. Isaac still seems to be upset. You don't really get it, because as far as you knew you did nothing to piss him off. Nevertheless he still avoids you during break and sometimes you catch him glaring at you or your friends from across the room.

On top of that you slowly start to regret calling Dylan your crush as Kiley tries her best to be a good friend and gives him little hints in order to find out if he likes you too. All you could do is watch and act like you were excited about it when in reality you couldn't care less.

Almost two weeks have passed and you still have no idea who your secret admirer is. Valentine's Day was over so no more notes and no more roses. What if he disappeared until Valentine's Day next year? You would have to wait the whole goddamn year and that only for another anonymous note? And what if he didn't like you anymore next year? You would probably never find out who it was!

Frustrated you bang your head against the kitchen table. Jackie had invited you to the Walters' house for a girls night. Probably she wants to distract you from racking your brains over who it could be. But as she is just as curious as you, the topic comes up again and again.

"I asked my classmates. Nobody saw who left the rose", you tell her. "Do you think it's someone you know? Maybe someone you're friends with?", Jackie asks. "Why do you think that?" "Well, it was written by computer. Maybe the person feared you would recognize the handwriting." Your eyes widen. Why didn't you think of that?

A quiet laughter makes you turn around. Isaac has entered the room. He grabs a glass of water and grins at you. "Are you still trying to find your secret lover?"

"Yes, I do and I won't stop until I know who it is." Your voice sounds determined even though you have no idea what else you could do.

"He could have at least left a hint", Jackie sighed, "Why send someone a rose without the intention to maybe go on a date together?" Isaac shrugs. "Maybe it was just a joke."

You glare at him across the table. "Thank you so much for encouraging me, idiot!" Again he shrugs and walks out of the kitchen again, murmuring just as loudly so you could hear it "Well, if you are into popular Football guys, you should get used to being played."

You don't know what to say. Why is he being such an idiot? Jackie takes your hand, smiling softly. "Hey, forget about him. Maybe he's just stressed." You nod and smile at her even though you don't think that being stressed gives him the right to let it out on others.

A few days later as you walk up to your locker with Jackie you see another note stuck there. Again it had your name written on it. Jackie squeaks excitedly as you take it and unfold it.

"Meet me at 8 on the Football field."

Your heart skips a beat. He wants to meet you! That is your chance of finding out who it is. But as you continue to think about it, also a feeling of nervousness starts to appear. Do you really want to know who it is? What if it is someone you don't like or aren't attracted to? Maybe it would be better not to destroy the illusion of your secret admirer.

Jacky looks at you in disbelief as you tell her your doubt. "No way, you're going!" Her voice allows no contradiction. "You were trying to find out who it is for weeks and now you don't want to take this opportunity? You go there, otherwise I'll drag you there! Your choice."

Okay, sounds like you had no other option. You will go there.

You can't wait for your classes to end. Your eyes are fixed upon the clock and you tap your foot nervously. When finally the bell rings, you are upon the first to storm out of the classroom.

Your friends are there to comfort you during waiting for it to finally be 8 o'clock. Grace lists tons and tons of names who she thinks it is, not noticing that she makes you even more nervous by doing so.

At 7:55 you stand up, gather all your courage and make your way to the football field. It's already getting dark and nobody's there. You stand there waiting, your eyes darting around in search of someone.

Times goes by, it's 8:05 then 8:10, 8:15. Your nervousness fades and instead you start to doubt. Are you maybe really getting fooled? What if it was really just a joke? You are just thinking about leaving when you finally notice a figure walking towards you. Your heart starts racing and as he comes closer you finally see who it is. You stand there in disbelief. "Isaac?!"

The boy smiles shyly at you. "Hi, Y/N." "You... are you... no that's not possible!" You don't know what to say. It seems like all the words had just disappeared from inside your head. Was this a joke? Isaac rubs the back of his neck nervously. He can barely look you in the eye. "Are you disappointed that it's me?"

You had never seen him this shy or nervous before. He always seemed so... relaxed and cool with everything. It had to be a joke, it had to be a joke! Every second that you remain silent is pure torture for the poor boy standing in front of you. He clearly seems to take your silence as a "yes". "I know I'm not the hot and charming Cole Walter or fucking Dylan!" His voice cracks and he tries desperately not to show how hurt he is.

You finally manage to get out more than just a stutter. "It was you? The rose was from you? This is not a joke?" Isaac looks at you, torn between sadness and confusion. "Why should this be a joke?" Your face burns with embarrassment. "You're one of my best friends... I never thought that you'd have feelings for me."

Isaac lowers his head and his dark hair falls into his eyes, covering them almost completely. "You're amazing, you're smart, beautiful and the best friend someone could wish for. How could I not fall in love with you?"

Would it feel weird to kiss him since you had known him for so long? You had thought about it before, never seriously though, he was only a friend after all. But now... the thought of it doesn't sound as weird as you thought it would. Slowly you walk towards him. "Why did you never tell me?"

Isaac bites his lip. "I wanted to, I really did, but then you stood there in front of me and I panicked. Also I didn't want to ruin our friendship."

With a small smile you grab his hand and he looks at you, clearly surprised. "I want to tell you a secret", you whisper and lean towards him, your heart racing in your chest. Just before his lips touch yours you confess: "I lied when I told you I hoped it was Dylan. Actually I hoped that it was you."

You can see from the look on his face that he didn't expect that. "Really?" "Really." A huge smile crosses his lips. He cups your face with his hands and pulls you towards him, smashing his lips onto yours. His kiss is passionate and warm, sending a tingling sensation through your body.

As you pull away from each other he looks at you with the brightest smile possible. "If I had known that, I would have confessed years ago!" You roll your eyes laughing and pull him in for another kiss.

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#my life with the walter boys #isaac garcia #secret admirer #isaac garcia x reader #walter boys

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