#secret admiration
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Note
Do you think you could write about an artist reader who reveals their latest works has had their crush as their muse as a roundabout way of confessing? Idk I had this vivid idea of love at first sight and only painting in the colors of their love, staying up for nights on end practically obsessed with capturing what they feel and see but keeping it hidden till it all bursts out.
Brushstrokes of a Hidden Heart
Tags: Dan Heng x Reader, Sunday x Reader, Aventurine x Reader, Artist!Reader, Love at First Sight, Unrequited Love(?), Secret Admiration, Confession Through Art, Obsessive Love(?), Vulnerability, Slow Burn, Angst, Fluff.
Warnings: Mild angst, Self-doubt, Unspoken feelings, Emotional vulnerability, Possible unreciprocated feelings, Intense focus on personal emotions.
A/N: didn't know which fandom you wanted it from, so I did it for HSR đ
Dan Heng sat in the dimly lit cabin of the Astral Express, the rhythmic hum of the train the only sound that accompanied his solitude. He had always found solace in the quiet, preferring it to the bustling noise of crowds or the endless chatter of others. Yet, tonight was different. His mind was clouded with thoughts of you, the artist who had been a silent but ever-present figure in his life since the day he met you.
The first time he laid eyes on you, it was nothing more than a fleeting momentâone he hadn't thought much of at the time. But it was strange, wasn't it? How that moment stayed with him, replaying in his mind like an image he couldn't shake. He had never been one to dwell on emotions, and yet something about you made him want to linger, if only in the shadows, far away from the spotlight.
Dan Heng didn't understand what had changed. He wasn't someone who sought out attention, let alone affection. And yet, as he watched you work from afar, sketching, painting, your every movement seemed to haunt him. His heart would beat just a little faster whenever you were near, though he could never bring himself to speak those words aloud.
He found himself drawn to your art. The way you captured the world around you, the strokes of your brush that seemed to tell stories even without words. There was a certain intensity in your workâan emotional rawness that he couldn't ignore. He often found himself admiring your paintings when you werenât around, noticing how every canvas seemed to glow with your feelings.
It was late into the night when he stumbled upon your most recent piece. His heart skipped a beat as he studied it, entranced by the use of colorâvibrant, soft hues blending together in ways that felt⊠familiar. It wasnât just a painting. It was a confession, a revelation.
The subject of the piece was unmistakable. It was him.
You had painted himâhis profile, his features, his soulâcaptured in every brushstroke. But it wasnât just the image that left him breathless. It was the colors, the warmth that spilled from the canvas. The shades of blue, gold, and soft pinks spoke of longing, of something deeper than simple admiration. It was a language he understood but had never expected to see expressed so vividly.
He didnât know what to feel. His initial instinct was to run, to distance himself from this vulnerability you had so willingly shared through your art. But something inside him stopped him. He couldnât tear his eyes away from the painting, and he certainly couldnât tear himself away from you.
The confession was out now, laid bare in the colors of your love. The quiet admiration, the unspoken feelingsâit was all there, framed on the canvas in front of him.
Dan Heng sighed, a soft exhale of air escaping his lips as he stood before the painting. For the first time, he allowed himself to feel the weight of what he hadnât dared to acknowledge. And maybe, just maybe, he could find the courage to speak those words too, to paint his own feelings for you.
But for now, he stood still, his gaze locked on the painting of the one person who had quietly captured his heart without him even realizing it.
Sunday sat in the quiet of his room, a flickering candle casting soft shadows across the walls. His fingers drummed lightly on the desk, a slight frown on his face as he looked at the painting in front of him. It was a recent creation of yours, the artist he had come to know and admire, even though he had never once admitted it aloud.
It had begun innocently enoughâyour work, a collection of serene landscapes, abstract expressions of peace and stillness. But as he continued to observe you, there was a shift. Your art had changed, taken on a more personal tone. It wasnât just about capturing beauty anymore. It was about capturing something much deeper, something you didnât quite show anyone else. The passion in your strokes had transformed, and Sunday couldnât ignore it.
The latest piece was a reflection of his own face. His figure was painted in muted hues of silver and violet, colors that mirrored the ones that seemed to haunt him in his dreams. But it wasnât the likeness that struck him the most; it was the emotion woven into every brushstroke. There was love in the way the colors swirled, an emotion so tangible it seemed to bleed from the canvas.
It was as if you had captured every fleeting moment of their encountersâthe way he smiled at you with a hint of warmth, the way his gaze lingered a moment too long. You had woven all of it into this painting, turning their quiet moments into something that felt like poetry, like a love song without words.
For a long while, Sunday simply stared at the painting, his thoughts a whirl of confusion. He had always believed in the Sweetdream Paradise, a world where people could escape their pain. But this⊠this felt different. It felt real, like a dream he didnât want to escape, one he wasnât sure he was ready to face.
Was this your way of confessing? The idea that someone could love himâthe person who had always distanced himself from true connection, who had always preached the merit of a painless, perfect worldâseemed impossible. And yet, there it was, in front of him.
The painting was more than just art. It was a message, a way of saying what neither of them had yet dared to speak aloud. You had used your work to tell him what was in your heart, and now, he had to decide if he could find the courage to do the same.
The weight of the moment hung in the air, heavy with unspoken words. As he reached out to touch the canvas, a sense of longing surged within himâsomething that hadnât been there before. Perhaps, in this moment, the dream of escape no longer felt as appealing as the dream of something real. Something tangible. Something he could finally reach for.
He closed his eyes, allowing himself to imagine a future where the colors of loveâyour loveâwere the only ones he ever saw.
Aventurine sat in his private study, the dim light of the lamps casting shadows on the roomâs elegant furnishings. His fingers idly turned a deck of cards as he gazed at the newest painting displayed on the wallâa work of art that had both mesmerized and unsettled him. The colors, the brushstrokes, the way your soul seemed to be embedded in every layer of paintâhe had seen many paintings in his time, but none like this.
The subject was unmistakable. It was him.
But this was not a simple portrait. No, this was far more. It was raw. It was a confession wrapped in the hues of the artistâs emotions. His face, framed by dark shades of green and gold, looked almost serene, yet there was something deeply intimate about it. The delicate touches of rose and violet reflected a softness that made his heart beat just a little faster.
He had always prided himself on being able to control everythingâevery move, every decision, every game he played. Life, to him, was a high-stakes gamble, a game of strategy and manipulation. But here, with this painting, everything felt out of his hands. This wasnât a game. This was real.
Aventurine had always been surrounded by beauty, charm, and a sense of power, but there was something different about this. It wasnât the typical adoration or fascination he was used to; no, this was loveâtrue, unfiltered love. And somehow, it was aimed at him.
His gaze lingered on the painting, every brushstroke sending a jolt through his chest. He wondered if this was your way of confessing, of revealing the feelings you had hidden beneath the surface. He hadnât expected this, not from someone like you, someone who had always remained so distant, so reserved. Yet here it was, in full viewâa revelation he could no longer ignore.
He had been careful with his emotions, always keeping them locked away behind a facade of confidence and control. But this⊠this painting had cracked that facade wide open. He couldnât deny it any longer. The truth was there, laid bare on the canvas, just as much as his own heart was.
Aventurine smiled, a rare, genuine smile that softened his usual playful demeanor. Maybe, just maybe, this was one game he wasnât so keen on playing alone. Perhaps it was time to place his betânot with cards, but with his heart.
And when the time came, he would show you that his feelings were not a gamble, but a certainty.
#x reader#honkai star rail#hsr#honkai star rail x reader#hsr x reader#hsr aventurine#aventurine x reader#hsr aventurine x reader#aventurine x you#dan heng honkai star rail#dan heng x you#dan heng x reader#dan heng#hsr dan heng#sunday x reader#sunday hsr#hsr sunday#sunday#artist reader#fluff#love at first sight#unrequited love#secret admiration#confession through art#obsessive love#slow burn#angst#self doubt#intense focus on personal emotions#emotional vulnerability
38 notes
·
View notes
Text
Kabru has a secret admirer in the castle!
#running from my responsibilities (drawing armour) by imagining post canon Kabru fashion#minor spoilers in the tags!#royal advisor Kabruâs office is probably overflowing with gifts from foreign dignitaries eyeing him up for marriage#and sacks of perfumed letters from Melini citizens#Marcille would be so sick of it#Laios also has his fair share of proposals#Yaad is like ⊠boys spare us all and pick a suitable candidate already#well Yaad thereâs a saying that goes two birds one stone#anyway lol#someone might have suggested to Laios âhey Kabru works so hard. you should show your appreciation.â#Laios (blushing sweating): uuuh how do i do that#Marcille probably: i hear itâs customary to give your royal advisor flowers the same colour as their beautiful blue eyes#Laios: well if you say so#but he starts having second thoughts bcs what if the gift is too romantic#so then Laios is like oh i know i just wonât sign it (:#fool proof plan Laios good job#totally not taking into account that Kabru can recognize his penmanship at a first glance#so at their next meeting Kabru is like âi wonder who my secret admirer in the castle is đâ#and Laios sweats so hard he falls out of his throne#doesnât Kabru of Melini have a nice ring to it#better yet âŠ. Kabru Touden#much to consider#dungeon meshi#dungeon meshi spoilers#kabru#kabru of utaya#labru#if you squint#wasabi doodles
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
girl who i know nothing about
who has caught my eye, everything about you at first glance has blown me away
girl who looks like they feel invisible
hand braided necklace that probably comes with story, id love to hear it with my legs swinging while im entranced with your passion and voice, if only i could sit you with you but,
i see you sitting there fidgeting, occasionally brushing your
hair of highlighted brunette silk that i could get lost in. no matter how many times you check it, it still frames your face and your
button nose, perfect for eskimo kisses. i can only imagine, especially with,
a smile so sutble but yet so powerful but most importantly so sincere that i want to see it everyday. a smile that could warm a heart.
but theres something i think we have in common becuase i see you listening to everything with lips sealed. not knowing how express yourself becuase no one has showed you how to. but in all of this fantasizing, secret admiration, i have no clue who you are, and nor do you for me. im just a stranger who is just assuming
i wish i was and id love to but im not the person whos confident enough to tell you all of this or even give this to you in person. but from one broken hearted person to a stranger, i hope youre able to find someone who makes you feel confident like id like to do for you.
0 notes
Text
secret admirer
859 words
Steve watches a lot of people. He sees girls as their eyes linger on him. He sees some boys do the same.Â
If Tommy caught them, heâd probably do what he always does; humiliate them, hit them. Heâs always been a bit protective of him. Steve doesnât know why. Heâs known Tommy since middle school because their lockers were next to each other since they were assigned alphabetically. Itâs been like that every year since then, too.Â
Sometimes he wonders what his best friend would do if he stopped averting his gaze from places it shouldnât be yet always strays to.Â
More and more lately he finds himself watching someone in particular.Â
Steve has to be careful. He canât let his gaze linger and he has to make sure his face stays neutral, almost as if heâs looking through him and not at him. He forces himself to laugh when someone cracks a joke about The Freak as if Steve isnât one himself.Â
He knows heâs a hypocrite - a coward. He wishes he could be more like Eddie. Just be himself and not care about judgment or criticism.Â
Itâs his biggest dream and greatest fear.Â
Steveâs seat in the cafeteria conveniently (strategically) puts Eddie directly in his line of sight. Aside from the singular elective they share, itâs the only time Steve gets to see him. Heâs only been watching him since school came back after winter break and heâs captivated.Â
He wishes he had somewhere to expel all of the thoughts he hoards in his brain like a dragon does gold. (Something Steve only knows because he - like a stalker - saw a book Eddie was carrying around for a week or so and checked it out of the library himself as soon as it was available. On the log card inside the cover, E. Munson was written a few times along with some other names.)
He gets an idea on Valentine's Day when he opens his locker after last period and a couple of pieces of paper fall to his feet. Steve watches as Tommy picks one up and coos, âSomeoneâs got an admirer.â
âYeah, yeah.â Steve rolls his eyes and snatches the paper. He doesnât necessarily care what these girls have written to him, but he feels weird letting anyone else see something that was intended for his eyes only.Â
Tommy only snickers and pats him on the shoulder a few times in approval. Steve puts the valentines in his backpack to look at when he gets home. He zones out as Tommy starts talking again - something about taking Carol Perkins to Bennyâs.Â
At home, Steve reads the cards with a furrowed brow. He doesnât want to be ungrateful given these girls are putting themselves out there and making a move on someone they like. Itâs just.Â
He feels completely detached from it all. None of the messages are personal. They could have been given to anyone.
He - somewhat guiltily - throws them away.Â
The next day, Steve excuses himself during morning practice and slips a piece of paper into a beat-up locker.
Eddie youâre really pretty i wish i could tell you to your face -H
He signed the note with his last initial to be a bit more inconspicuous and perhaps give him some plausible deniability lest he be found out. Heâs sure heâs being too precautious - paranoid? - but it gives him peace of mind nonetheless. He couldnât imagine the dreadful things that would happen if someone traced this back to him. Heâd have to run away.Â
Heâd have to kill himself.Â
As much as he wants to, Steve doesnât hang around Eddieâs locker to see his reaction. Though he does think about it all morning. They donât have class together until later in the day. When the lunch bell rings, Steve has to force himself to make his way through the halls at an acceptable pace and pats himself on the back when the cafeteria is mostly full when he strides in.
He takes his place at the table where all of the more athletically inclined people tend to congregate and takes a deep breath.
When he chances a look, Eddie is already at the head of his table. He seems quieter than normal. Steveâs always been good at reading people and he can tell the difference between a good quiet and a bad quiet. Eddieâs quiet in a bad way.Â
He languidly flips through a book with a faraway contemplative look.Â
Steve looks away with a ghost of a frown on his face.Â
He tries again the next day.Â
Eddie i like your hair is it as soft as it looks? p.s. you didnât look happy yesterday, sorry if it was my fault -H
That day at lunch, Steve doesnât look at Eddie as frequently as he usually would, which is unfortunate.Â
Eddie has taken to scanning the lunchroom with narrowed eyes. His arms are crossed over his chest and despite him being affronted, Steve canât help but think heâs kinda cute.Â
He smiles to himself and tries to listen to his friends for once to aid in avoiding Eddieâs gaze.
two
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#you can pry secret admirer fics from my cold dead hands#is this worth a part 2?#suicide mention#just one line
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
I want something Steddie to start here:
Eddie
Iâm sorry. This is the last letter. I know youâd hate me if you found out who I really am, and I donât want to see that. I donât want you to know who youâve been telling your secrets too. You wouldnât want me to know them. You wouldnât want to know me.
Iâm so so sorry. Goodbye - X
He read it again and again when he got home, but Eddie couldnât figure out what heâd done or what heâd said that made them end it. Sure, it was only letters, and Eddie didnât know their name, or what they looked like. He didnât even have a guess about who it was. A guy. Thatâs all he knew. But theyâd been leaving letters in his locker since the second week of class. Two months in, when Eddie was losing his mind for having no way of replying, his secret writer told him he could leave a letter in a copy of the Hobbit in the school library. Since then, it was every other day, sending, then receiving. A slow motion conversation. It was his third go at his senior year, and the letters were one of the bright points.
The joy of a great campaign session could only stretch so far. His new sheepies were excellent, most of the worst assholes at school had graduated, and even if the teachers hated him, Eddie had taken the classes twice already. He knew what they wanted him to write in their homework.
Other than suffering through the freshmen talking about their beloved idol, Steve Harrington - despite the guy being a loser who was repeating his senior year - his life had been pretty great. The notes made everything a little bit brighter.
And now? Yesterday was sort of horrible, and he'd been excited to pick up the next note this afternoon. Mike caught the flu, and took down Jeff and Gareth. The session was already going to be a one shot, but down that many players, Eddie complained all week that they'd have to cancel entirely. Instead, Dustin dragged Harrington in with him. Horrible. The guy had never played before, and was so awkward and uncomfortable the entire time that it tanked the entire session. Eventually he called time. Ended the one shot without a conclusion. Pretty explicitly explained to Lucas and Dustin why.
Explained to Steve that he should have refused Dustin's demands. That he would never fit in with them. That he knew from the minute the guy walked in, that it was doomed. That there was a reason he hated jocks, and stayed away from them.
His bad mood was made worse by the way that Dustin and Lucas defended their idol, while Harrington himself picked up his things and silently left.
Eddie was so damn excited to pick up X's note, and see whether the guy had gotten the hobbits out of the Shire in Fellowship.
Instead.
#steddie#theres a bunch of lovely secret admirer fics right now#and I love them#and my brain was simmering#angsty secret admirer au
895 notes
·
View notes
Text
i really like to think that Heavy admire Medic
Edit: naaah I forgot to paint the white part of the heavy shirt XD
529 notes
·
View notes
Text
brought to you by the fact that Shawn references Phineas and Ferb like three times and Lassiter`s canonical war against squirrels
#psych#psych tv#lassie squirrels war and shawns whatever it is with raccoons theyre soulmates can you hear me#simp is also what lassie is for shawn#(and vice versa)#carlton lassiter#shassie#carlton watches the episode where candance DOES bust the boys and he tears up because he thinks about what if he DID bust shawn#I cant decide if lassies fav is candance (same struggles + he admires her surveillance skills ) or perry (secret agent!)#psych fanart
779 notes
·
View notes
Text
can you see the stars in your dreams (and do they have a lot to say about me) - Part 16
Or: a secret Admirer AU
PART 1 || PART 2 || PART 3 || PART 4 || PART 5 || PART 6 || PART 7 || PART 8 || PART 9 || PART 10 || PART 11 || PART 1 || PART 13 || PART 14 || PART 15
Aside from bathroom breaks, Eddie doesnât leave his room for two days. Friday bleeds into Saturday, bleeds into Sunday, and Eddie wallows in it. Wayne knows him well enough to not bother him, but Wayne also knows him well enough to barge into Eddieâs room Sunday morning without even knocking.
âUp, boy,â he says gruffly, turning Eddieâs overhead light on. âYour eggs are getting cold.â
Eddie groans, and tries to roll over to bury his face back into his pillow, but Wayne grabs him by the ankle and yanks until he goes tumbling out of the bed.
âWayne!â
âI ainât asking,â Wayne says, storming out of Eddieâs room without closing the door.
As is his right, Eddie whines and rolls around on his floor for a minute until he can finally find the will to get up. Clearly knowing that it would take Eddie a minute, Wayneâs just plating eggs and potatoes as Eddie walks into the kitchen, still clothed in only his boxers and the same shirt heâd been wearing when Carverâd kicked his ass on Thursday.
They settle across from each other at their dingy table, Wayne letting him get a few bites of breakfast in him before the interrogation he knows is coming begins.
âWhat happened?â Wayne asks, pushing his own plate away so he can focus on staring Eddie down.
Eddie swallows his bite of potatoes, throat suddenly dry. But, he wants to tell someone, he wants to tell Wayne, who, no matter how Eddie fucks up, is always in his corner.
âIâve been getting these letters,â Eddie starts, using his fork to play with his food so he doesnât have to meet his Uncleâs eyes as the whole sordid tale comes out.
He tells it like he experienced it: thinking it was a joke at first before getting wrapped up in the letters, finding out it was Chrissy, trying to connect the living, breathing girl to the words on the page.
And then, Harrington, strong and sure as he defended him from Carver, taking care of his wounds in the aftermath, lying to him for months until he couldn't get away with it anymore.
Wayne just listens without interruption while Eddie talks about Jeffâs betrayal, the fear in Chrissyâs eyes, the defeated slope of Harringtonâs back as heâd walked out the door, going god knows where with his car still at the quarry where heâd left it.
When Eddieâs finally done, Wayne hums and pulls his now-cold food back in front of him, picks up his fork and starts to eat. Eddie watches him, gobsmacked.
âWayne?â Eddie asks, moving his hand up and down in front of his Uncleâs eyes, checking to see if the old man can even still see him. âThatâs all youâre going to say? Hmm, and then back to breakfast?â
Eddie scowls as he forks another potato into his mouth, chewing as he continues his tirade. âWhere are your wise words, old man? Why the hellâd you even make me get up if this is all I was going to get?â
Wayne hums again, clearly just to piss Eddie off, then finally answers, âyou needed to eat.â
Eddie stares at him, mouth hanging open half-masticated potatoes on full display for anyone to see. Not that anyoneâs going to because Wayneâs gone back to polishing off his breakfast.
âThatâs it?â Eddie demands, throwing his fork down in a huff.
Wayne sighs, like Eddieâs the one being unreasonable here and finally puts his fork down to meet his nephewâs eyes.
âFinish your breakfast, and we can talk.â
Eddie whines, but dutifully scarfs down his plate, never breaking eye contact with his uncle, like theyâre in a stand-off. And in a way, they are.
Once done, Eddie tosses his fork across the room into the sink just to prove a point, leans across the table and glares at Wayne. Because heâs an asshole, Wayne takes another sip of his coffee, maintaining eye contact, before finally opening his mouth to speak.
âYou like this boy?â Wayne asks.
Eddie sputters and stalls out. âYouâIâwhat?â Eddie asks, fisting his hands into his greasy hair.
âIt ainât an unreasonable question,â he replies. âYouâre talking about the kid like heâs a knight in one of those little games you like so much.â
âIâno I wasnât!â Eddie cries, cheeks burning at the implication.
âMmmhmm,â Wayne replies, eyebrow raised as he drinks more of his coffee like what heâs saying is of no importance at all.
âWayne,â Eddie says, leaning over the table to clutch at his shoulders, ribs protesting at the pull. âIâm not gay.â
And that, out of everything, is what gets Wayne to put his mug back down and take Eddie seriously. âYou ainât?â Wayne asks, eyebrow raised. Eddie shakes his head, eyes wide. âYou sure? Thereâs an awful lot of men in leather on your walls.â
Eddie squawks, sinking painfully back into his seat. âThatâs Metallica.â
Wayne squints at him. âIs that one of them code words yâall use to stay safe?â
Eddie stands up, chair screeching against the linoleum floor. âItâs a band, Wayne!â Eddie cries, at a loss for what the fuck is happening. âIâm not gay!â
Wayne looks up at him, both eyebrows raised enough to scrunch up his forehead, wrinkling his mostly-bald head. âWell, alright then.â
Eddie stares at him, brain buzzing with even more questions than heâd had before. How long had Wayne thought he was gay? Why? What did he do?
Was he really okay with it?
Eddie turns on his heel and marches out of the kitchen and back to his bedroom without another word. He slams the door and collapses onto his bed, gut squirming with all the thoughts churning in his head.
***Â
Chrissy isnât surprised when Eddie doesnât come to school on Monday; she is surprised when Steve does. Heâs got bags under his eyes and Robin Buckley super-glued to his side, but heâs still there.
She canât help the way she runs into his arms, leaving Jeff behind without thought. Steve catches herâhe always does, pushing his hands beneath his letterman jacket to grab at her waist and pull her in. They sway there in the middle of the hallway, all their classmates jeering around them.
Chrissy doesnât care; sheâs spent the entire weekend thinking about the crushed look in his eyes as he walked out of the Munson trailer without a backwards glance
âYouâre okay?â she asks, face pressed into the soft fabric of his t-shirt.
He runs his hand up and down her back as he responds, âI will be.â
She pulls back to smile up at him and reaches up to brush a floppier-than-usual lock of hair behind his ear. âWalk me to class?â
He links their elbows, and does just that, Jeff and Robin falling into line behind them, Robin prattling on about some movie marathon her and Steve had had at her house over the weekend.Â
Chrissyâs just glad he wasnât alone.
Steve sighs, shoulders slumping as he says, âIâm sorry, Chris,â he says, not looking her way. âI shouldnât have dragged you into my mess.â
She stops abruptly enough that Robin stumbles into them and bounces back, cutting off her stream of words mid-babble to squawk at them. Chrissy doesnât acknowledge her, too busy standing on her tippy toes so she can grab Steveâs shoulders and yank him down to her level.
âYou listen to me, Steve Harrington,â she demands, looking into his big, bewildered eyes. âYour mess is my mess, okay?â
Heâs still just staring at her, eyes wide, mouth hanging open, so she digs her nails in hard and says, âforever,â with as much finality as she can muster.
He keeps staring at her, looking like heâs about ready to burst into tears in the middle of the hallway. Finally, he says, âcome over tonight?â more a demand than a question.
She drops her grip on him and nods, content.
Chrissy doesnât ask questions when Steve leads her over to Robin in the cafeteria. Itâs easy to take that last, final step into social suicide with him at her side.Â
They fall into their usual routine that nightâthey watch trashy TV neither would admit to liking to another living soul, and paint each otherâs nails.
The lack of letter writing sits like a dead body between them.
âHe wonât tell anyone,â Chrissy says, tightening her grip on his hand when he jerks. Chrissy keeps carefully painting his nails, her favorite pink, not looking up at his face. The color suits himâitâs not fair, but everything does. âHe promised.â
Steve doesnât ask for clarification, they both know who sheâs talking about. âYou believe him?â
She thinks about that torn, guilty look on Eddieâs face and replies, âI do.â
She finishes his pinkie and settles his hand down on her own knee to dry, knowing from previous experience that if she gives it back, heâll ruin all her work running his hand through his hair.
âThatâs good,â he mutters, looking down at his own hand, tilted so far forward that even when she looks up, his hairâs flopped too far into his face to see his eyes. âIt still hurts.â
Chrissy sighs. Sheâd seen this coming all those months ago when sheâd helped pen the first letter. Had seen the writing on the wall like it was she herself that was writing it. But, sheâd helped him anyway, hoping to salvage his safety, if not his dignity.
She can only hope she has.
âI know,â she replies, biting her lip against apologies he wonât accept. âBut, weâre in this together, okay?â
Steveâs fingers twitch on her leg, but he doesnât pull away. âEven with you and Jeff?â
âYou figured that out, huh?â she asks, and thatâs what finally gets him to look up at her with a raised brow, making her laugh.
âI mean, you told me you were going to ask him out,â he starts, before leering over at her. âAnd you two arenât exactly subtle.â
âTell that to Eddie,â she replies, wanting to swallow the name back down once it comes out of her mouth, but itâs too lateâitâs already been said.
Steve smiles wryly as he says, âwell, heâs not exactly the most observant, is he?â
He has her there. Steve himself, no matter how hard he tried, wasnât subtle with his affections: the compliments, the stuttering over his words, the blushing. But none of it had done more than make Eddie give Steve suspicious looks, like there was some sort of game he wasnât in on.
There was, but even without knowing he was playing, heâd still beaten Steve.
âNo, heâs really not.â
Steve hums, picking up his hand to check if itâs dry before moving onto painting her nails. He picks his favorite yellow for her, even though he knows it washes her out. She holds out her hand and doesnât complain.
âI really like him,â Steve says, quietly enough that itâs barely audible over the murmur of voices coming from the TV.
âI know,â she whispers, watching the flickering sadness on his face by the illumination of the Harringtonâs big television screen. âI love you. You know that, right?â
He pauses in painting her nails to meet her eyes, smiling for real now. âI know,â he says, stroking the skin on her wrist with the free fingers not holding the nail polish applicator. âAnd you know what? This was all worth it if I got you out of it.â
And then he just goes back to painting her nails like that wasnât the most romantic thing anyone has ever said. Eddie Munson can fuck himself; Chrissyâs going to be buried in Steveâs letterman jacket and thereâs nothing anyone can do about it.
***Â
Eddie doesnât go to school on Monday. Heâs too busy rereading the secret admirer notesâthe notes Steve Harrington left himâlike if he reads them in the right order, itâll all snap together in his brain in a way that makes fucking sense.
And it does, sort of. Itâs like sorting out a bunch of puzzle pieces after finally knowing what the shape of the puzzle even is. Some parts of the letters just jump out of the page, the longer he looks. In the end, he processes this the way he processes everything: he makes a list.
  Proof that Steve Harrington is my Secret Admirer:
  1. Iâm not trying to bully you.
  2. I wish I was brave enough to tell you. Brave like you.
  3. I know you donât like them, but I like sports.
  4. My favorite color is yellow, like the sun, and sunflowers, and all those happy, bright colors.
  5. But my eyes? Theyâre brown, but nowhere near as pretty as yours.
  6. I tried playing the piano again, and Iâm a little rusty.
  7. Do you hate all of them, or just the bullies?
  8.  You laughed, but it wasnât your real laugh like when Mr. Danver accidentally said âorgasmâ instead of âorganismâ.
A jock afraid of Eddie labeling them as a bully? Check. Favorite color, the same one Steve Harrington had painted his nails all those weeks ago? Check. Rich enough to have a piano thatâs just not played? Check. But the most damning part of all: Chrissy was never in Mr. Danverâs class with him last year, but Harrington was. And Chrissy? Her eyes are bright, translucent blue.
The longer he looks at those two incriminating bits of evidence, the stupider he feels. It was never her, and from the looks of it, they hadnât put much effort into pretending it was. It was always Harrington from that first, forever-lost letter that theyâd stuffed in his locker.
And the longer he pours over the letters, the less he can picture Chrissy sprawled on her bed, writing each letter with a shy flourish before spraying it with a puff of her favored scent. No. Itâs Harrington, frowning down at the page because words have never come easy to him; itâs Harrington sleeping with Eddieâs letter placed gently beneath his pillow; itâs Harrington whoâd made Eddie smile like a schoolgirl with her first crush.
And now that he thinks about it, wasnât it Harrington whose eye he kept catching from across the cafeteria? Harrington whoâd stutter over his words around Eddie, but still told him he was a good storyteller?
Harrington who wanted to go to his show. Chrissy hadnât even remembered Corroded Coffinâs name.Â
Harrington hadâof course he had.Â
And he can picture that, too now. Harrington in the crowd in his stupid polo with his bright yellow nail polish, sticking out like a sore thumb in the gruff crowd at the Hideout, beautiful brown eyes trained solely on Eddie.
He can still feel the way his pulse had ratcheted up when they were in the bathroom, Harrington between his spread thighs, palms warm against his tender ribs, sucking all the oxygen out of Eddieâs lungs with how close he was.
Itâs too much.
âHello?â Jeffâs mom sounds curt over the phone, already fed up with Eddie calling before heâs even said anything. Eddie doesnât care; he canât when he needs Jeff this badly.
âCan I talk to Jeff?â he cries out, hand shaking around the receiver as he listens to her grumble, but she still shouts for her son to come pick up the goddamn phone.Â
âHello?â
Eddie should wait until heâs sure Jeffâs mom is no longer in hearing vicinity, but he canât, too wound up tight to keep from blurting out, âam I gay?â
Thereâs a moment of silence that Eddie can barely breathe through before Jeff says, âuhh, Eddie?â in such a bewildered voice that Eddie sort of wants to punch him.
âYes, yes, itâs me,â he says, words spilling out over each other. âAnd Iâm sorry about what I said, and youâre sorry that you kept secrets from meâwe can do that later, Jeff!â
âUh, okaââ
âNow, am I gay?â heâs panting by the time heâs done, not having taken a single breath during his tirade. Heâs waiting for Jeffâs confirmation or denial, but all that comes down the line is his quiet breathing. âJeff?â
âUh, shit, weâre doing this? Okay.â Eddie can almost picture the fed-up palm Jeffâs rubbing against his face, as if itâs somehow Eddieâs fault that Jeff is taking so long explaining the squirmy nebulous feeling in Eddieâs gut. âI donât know man, why do you think youâre gay?â
Then, Eddie does what he should have done all along, and spills everything to Jeff, from the first letter all the way up to Steve Harringtonâs bitchy little speech in the quarry as he put himself bodily between Eddie and Jason Carver.
ââand then he kneeled between my knees like thatâs a normal, straight guy thing to do and just like, put his hands in my shirt!â Eddie whines, long since having settled onto the cold linoleum of his kitchen floor. âI mean, what the hell?â
âI think youâre forgetting one important fact, dude: Steveâs not straight.â
âWhich brings me back to my question!â Eddie replies, trying for breezy and landing on whiny. âAm I gay?â
Jeff hums down the line like heâs really thinking about it this time. âWell, when he was touching you,â he starts, like that already doesnât have Eddieâs face flaming, âwhat did you feel?â
Eddie puts himself back into that moment, thighs splayed pressed open by the heavy weight of Harringtonâs body, Harringtonâs big, warm hands running over his skin, his worried golden brown eyes roving over Eddieâs face.
âI felt like I was on fire,â Eddie whispers, feeling that same heat now pooling lower in his gut.
ââŠin a good way?â Jeff asks.
Eddieâs brain goes static, full of too much to differentiate good from bad, if thatâs a distinction that ever existed at all. Eddie makes a questioning noise in his throat, knees twitching restlessly where theyâre crossed in front of him.
âOkay, okay, uhhâhmm,â Jeff hums across the line. âDid you want to move closer or away?â
Eddie closes his eyes and thinks, imagining that trapped, warm, overwhelming feeling of being caged in by Harringtonâs body. âBoth?â
Jeff hmms again, clearly trying to think it through. Eddie canât blame himâthis is the most confused heâs been in his entire life, and Jeff doesnât even have an all-access pass to his brain to try to pick answers out ofânot that itâs currently doing Eddie much good.
âDo you want to try kissing a guy?â Jeff asks. âIâd do it, if it was for you, dude.â
Eddieâs nose wrinkles, lips puckering in disgust, âew, youâre like my brother.â
Jeff laughs at him and replies, âso you donât want to, not because Iâm a guy, but because weâre like brothers? Sounds pretty gay, dude.â
âOh.â
Jeff doesnât say anything; heâs always been good at sensing when Eddie just needs a minute to think. But this time, he doesnât think a minute will cut it, so he continues with a, âhey Jeff?â
âHmm?â
âI really did mean it, you know.â He squeezes the phone tighter against the side of his face, like that will help his sincerity ring down the line. âI am sorry, and we should talk about it, but I canât yet.â
Jeff still doesnât reply, but his breathing is steady and sure down the line, settling Eddieâs anxious heart down to a little flutter.
âIs that okay?â Eddie asks.
âYeah, dude,â Jeff replies gruffly. âSo, youâll still call me?â
Eddie smiles. Heâs missed Jeff, is the thing. Theyâve been so distant lately, and no matter how well Eddie and Gareth get along, heâs no Jeff. âOr accost you at school, whichever comes first.â
That makes Jeff laugh; Eddie lets the sound warm him. âOkay, but Iâm serious about the kissing thing!â Jeff replies, âCome over and I can plant one right on yââ
Eddie hangs up on his friend, feeling more himself than he has in days. No matter what happens, he has Jeff.
PART 17
#koko's steddie secret admirer au#steddie#my fic#jeff is the real mvp here putting up with all of eddie's issues#well. him and wayne
407 notes
·
View notes
Text
"My brother had many fans, but only one special secret admirer. They sent each other super corny letters all the time, even during our guard shift.
He suddenly stopped talking about this person. There was no more letters.
I wonder if they ever met at some point..."
#xtale#timeline x#cross#xtale!sans#xtale!papyrus#secret admirer#ugly drawing because I got sick and I'm in bed rn :(#enjoy this mysterious saint valentine's story#stay tuned#21 years
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
The note shows up in Eddie's mailbox cubby on Valentine's Day.
It's nothing fancy, loopy cursive handwriting on lined paper:
"I know this is probably silly but I can't go another day without saying it, and today seems appropriate for this kind of confession. Seeing you in the morning is the best part of my day. You're so gorgeous it leaves me breathless. I hope you don't mind if I don't leave my name. Just wanted you to know that you're beautiful."
His eyes fill with tears that he blinks back, a goofy smile stretching his mouth wide.
"You good there, Munson?" Robin Buckley asks.
"Oh, yup, yeah, all good." He laughs. "Just got one of those 'you're my favorite teacher Mr. Munson!' notes."
He squeezes the letter to his chest before slipping it in his pocket.
---
The worst thing about Eddie's new job is that someway, somehow, Steve-fucking-Harrington works here too. PE teacher, JV basketball coach, of-fucking-course. Once a douchebag jock, always a douchebag jock. What makes it all worse is that he's still the prettiest guy Eddie's ever seen.
---
The first week of March, there's a commotion in the hallway that has him rushing out of his room, ready to breakup a fight. He finds Harrington already there, holding Dustin Henderson and Will Byers by their shoulders. Troy Walsh and James Dante stand across from them, wearing matching snarls.
Of course Harrington is picking on little nerd kids; he knew it. But before he steps forwards to break it up, Steve speaks, voice low and angry. "You want to tell me what happened here, Troy?"
"Byers tripped. He really should watch where he's going," Troy says. James laughs.
Steve's glare goes even more icy, more disdainful (it's so fucking hot, Eddie hates it). "You want to take that again? And try being honest this time, or you're suspend from the team."
Troy splutters for long enough that Eddie finally notices Will's stricken face, the sketchpad and snapped colored pencils littering the linoleum.
"I saw you take those things from Will, and unfortunately, I'll have to call your parents and you will be responsible for purchasing a new sketchbook and pencils. You're also benched for the next four games."
The boys shout, but when Steve raises a hand they quiet immediately. "You want to complain more, or do you want it to be five games?"
"No, sir," they answer before scampering off.
Harrington faces Dustin and Will. "You boys okay?" he asks them.
"We're good, Mr. H," Dustin answers.
"Glad to hear it." Steve begins collecting Will's ruined belongings, stops to study one of the drawings.
"This is really good, Will."
Will flushes. "Thanks. It's my character for dnd,"
"Dnd? That's that game that El and Max are always talking about? With the character sheets and the dice?"
"Yeah!" says Dustin. "You know it?"
Steve's smile is a little bashful, and it tugs at Eddie's heart in a way he has to ignore. "Not much. Just from what the girls have said. You want to tell me about it?"
"Really?" Their eyes light up.
"Really. You can stop by the gym during lunch. Only if you want to, though."
"Cool," says Dustin.
He pats them both on the shoulder, and they hurry away, leaving Steve and Eddie suddenly alone.
Eddie should head back to his class, hasn't been needed in this situation at all, really, but before he can disappear, Steve spots him and his eyes widen.
"You need something, Munson?" Steve's cheeks go a faint pink.
He shakes his head, feels wrong-footed. "Uh, that was really cool what you did just there."
"They're really good kids," Steve says. "I know them a little. Used to babysit El Hopper." He slides his hands into the pockets of his khakis and, seriously, fuck Harrington for looking like that in a pair of Dockers.
"Babysitter, Harrington? Never thought I'd see the day. Or that you'd be the one defending a bunch of nerds," Eddie says. He means it teasing, but Steve's face warps into a frown.
"Y--yeah, I guess. I mean. I'm trying not to be that guy anymore, and Robin's really helped--"
"Shit, man, I'm sorry. That's not what I meant, at all--"
"--I feel terrible about all that shit I pulled back in school. That King Steve stuff? I was awful and you didn't deserve--"
"Steve!" Eddie cuts him off. "I forgive you. For everything." He looks down at his shoes. "For all I didn't want to believe it, you really have changed."
They're both pink faced now, avoiding each other's eyes. "Thanks," Steve says. "I should get going, but--for the future-- I really wouldn't mind--um--trying to be friends."
The grin that passes across Eddie's face is huge. "Yeah, Harrington, I'd like that."
Eddie has to run to make it to his classroom on time. He passes Dustin and Will and the rest of their gaggle of friends, rushing them along, but forgets all about it as he steps in front of his third period juniors.
---
He and Steve are...friendly now. They chat, they joke, they share smiles that have Eddie's heart beating too fast even though it's not like that. Turns out Steve is kind and funny (a little bit of a bitch too, but in a way that ties Eddie's stomach in knots), and a hell of a teacher.
---
His freshman are in small groups, peer-reviewing an essays, when Max Mayfield catches his eye. She's one of his favorite students and absolute trouble.
"What's up, Mayfield." He asks.
"Are you friends with Mr. Harrington?" She asks.
He chuckles. "Sure, Max, we're friendly enough. Why?"
She narrows her eyes, like she knows he's not being totally honest. "Oh, nothing. He just talks about you all the time."
He's blushing horribly and Max, and all of her friends, smirk up at him. "He does?" He chokes out.
"Mmhmm," Lucas Sinclair says. "Says he thinks you're really cool."
"Definitely one of the best teachers here," Mike Wheeler adds.
Eddie rolls his eyes. "Okay, very funny, guys. How're your essays going?"
They answer, but before Eddie goes to help another group, Will says, "he really does like you, Mr. Munson. A lot."
El nods earnestly up at him. "It is true," she says. "I know him."
"Thanks, kids. I'll keep that in mind." He gives them a smile, tries not to let their words get to him. When he reaches the next group, though, he notices his hands are shaking.
---
Gifts start turning up in Eddie's cubby. It starts with a bag of oatmeal chocolate chip cookies from his favorite bakery. There's a small note that says "from your secret admirer," on the packaging. Every two weeks or so, something new shows up in his little mailbox; a woven friendship bracelet, a yellow rose, Hershey kisses, a delicately painted dnd figure that gives Eddie a small crisis because it's his own bard character, an Iron Maiden cassette, a bag of dice that almost brings him to genuine tears.
Eventually, he gets another note. This one is typed and reads: "I would love to have coffee with you 11am this Saturday at the Cafe on Main Street."
---
He walks into the cafe at 10:50am, wearing his favorite pair of ripped black jeans and a burgundy button-down, his hair pulled into a loose bun. He doesn't recognize anyone there.
Eddie gets in line, studies the menu, and the little bell above the door rings. He whips towards the sound to find none other than Steve Harrington in little wire rim glasses, a butter colored sweater, and jeans the man must have painted on, Jesus Christ. Honestly, the whole thing is enough to give Eddie a coronary (and to, embarrassingly, chub up in his own tight jeans).
"Steve?" He asks. He's overwhelmed with the (stupid, stupid) hope that it's been Harrington all along. "What are you doing here?"
"Henderson asked me to meet him. He around?"
"Uh, no?" Eddie feels heat creeping up his throat.
Steve shakes his head, as though he expected as much. "You alone? We could grab drink."
"I can't believe this." Eddie hides his face in his hands, knows it's gone horrifyingly crimson.
"What's wrong?"
"My secret admirer told me to be here now, so we could meet," Eddie's misery slices through his words. "I'm such an idiot."
"I--your--what?" Steve stammers.
He gathers himself enough to look Steve in his hazel eyes and ask, "I'm assuming it wasn't you leaving notes and gifts for me at work?"
And he expects Steve to say no. To laugh and ask why he'd ever do something like that, but instead, instead he flushes a deep red. "O-only one note."
"What?"
"I, uh," Steve clears his throat. "I left you a note. On Valentine's Day. I--we weren't friends yet, and I wanted you to know how much I liked you. It's --uh--it's pretty silly, huh? Robin's--"
"Steve," Eddie interrupts. He's going to tell Steve that he reads the note often enough that he has parts memorized; that it's the kindest thing anyone has done for him, but what he says instead is, "Dustin Henderson told you to meet him here at 11?"
"Yeah. Said he had something to show me."
Eddie remembers running into Will and Dustin and their friends that day in the hall, the weird conversation in class, the dice and the miniature. Something must click for Steve at the same time because his mouth drops, blush getting somehow deeper.
"Oh my god. Henderson! I'm gonna kill him. They figured out I had a crush on you."
"They WHAT?" Eddie says, loud enough that several looks are aimed their way.
"I'm so, so sorry, Eddie. Holy shit, this is so humiliating. You have to believe me, I had no idea they were doing this. God, I'm really starting to think it is possible to die from embarrassment."
"You have a crush on me," Eddie says instead of any of the dozens of helpful things he could say.
"Um. Yes?"
Eddie takes a deep breath, straightens his spine, and asks, "You wanna have coffee with me?"
"I'd really like that." Steve's return smile is so beautiful, it makes Eddie weak.
---
Eddie Munson is making out with Steve Harrington in the backseat of Steve's BMW. He and Steve spent the day together. They've kissed for so long that the sun has set, both of their lips are swollen, their skin red from stubble, and Eddie is nowhere near ready for the night to end.
Steve breaks away, gently pulling their mouths apart, but arms still tight around Eddie. "Hey, what kind of gifts were they giving you anyway? The kids?"
"Oh," Eddie blushes. "Uh, cookies, a dnd mini, lots of candy, a set of dice."
"Oh my god," Steve says, he pulls a little more away. "Oh my god, I'm going to kill her, Jesus Christ."
"Who are are you killing, sweetheart?"
Steve groans. "Robin. She was helping them. We found a set of dice at this little bookstore and she told me to get them for you, and--" he breaks off with a helpless, frustrated noise.
Eddie doesn't mean to, but he starts to giggle.
"It's not funny!" Steve says.
That only makes Eddie laugh harder. "Your best friend," he squeaks. "And a group of literal children set us up. That's hilarious, Harrington."
Steve's mouth drops and for a second Eddie thinks he'll be upset, but then he's giggling too, his whole face crumpling into it.
Steve pulls Eddie close once the laughter subsides, his eyes trained on Eddie's lips.
"We could pretend we didn't get together," Eddie manages to say.
"What, like, make them think they failed?"
"Yeah. We could tell them I got stood up, but you and I hung out. Had a bro day."
Steve giggles again, and it's the best sound Eddie's ever heard. "I'm absolutely on board with this plan, but you should definitely kiss me some more."
"Oh, yeah?" Eddie asks, his voice low. "And what'll I get out of it?"
"Why don't you get over here and see."
As if Eddie could turn down an invite that enticing. He slides a hand behind Steve's head, drawing him in, and they're kissing like they never stopped. It only been a few hours, but Eddie knows--without a doubt--he's already head over heels.
#steddie#steve x eddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#ficlet#oneshot#fluff#mutual pining#matchmaking#secret admirers#pe teacher steve harrington#english teacher eddie munson#kinda doing a parent trap thing#in which robin and the party parent trap eddie and steve#it's also the part of clueless where they do matchmaking with the teachers#first date#the party#robin buckley#platonic soulmates#rough winds do shake the darling buds of may but thy eternal summer shall not fade#phat did you write that
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
858 notes
·
View notes
Note
Does baby bro yuji get jealous over sukuna and readers affection towards each other (kissing, hugging, etc.), or is he generally unbothered?
Love this series btw <3
he doesnât mind itâŠto an extent. he likes seeing you guys affectionate with another, but also after like 2 minutes of it, he is 100% trying to include himself too. gets super whiny when sukuna tries to leave him out and will paw at you until he gets praised and coddled too.
he sees you two cuddling on the couch? he is running to insert himself right in between you two. kissing one another in greeting or goodbye? he is closing his eyes and tilting his face until you press a kiss to his cheek. he sees you combing through sukunas hair? he is grabbing your other hand and placing it on his head to pet him too
there are a couple of exceptions to that tho. one is when is when sukuna locks the door on the two of you. yuuji will knock and cry at your door until you let him, not liking the idea of missing being cuddled (even if thatâs NOT what you are doing). the second is when he is laying with you and sukuna kicks him out of his spot. gets the boy so worked up (+ surprisingly angry) because he was so comfortable, and he nearly has a temper tantrum until Sukuna places him back in your lap, pinches his cheek, and tells him to calm down.
the both of them are incredibly physically affectionate, so there r always going to be moments when the two of them fight for attention lololol. but yuuji is usually reasonable for a toddler, sukuna is not.
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Yan Secret Admirer đ
Yan secret admirer and you went to same high school. The day he saw you he fell for you immediately and have been looking after you from afar as he is too shy to confess his feelings to you
Yan secret admirer making sure no boys come near you and if someone did next day mysteriously they just disappear
Secretly paying for yours meals, keeping gifts such as your favourite flowers, jewelery you liked, your fav snack with notes
he spends money on you like crazy as money is not a issue to him. His parents are god level rich
You knew you had a secret admirer by all this gifts and stuff you keep getting. But who is this person? you have no idea
yan secret admirer who has secret cameras installed in your room
whenever he can't see you in person from afar he just watches you through cameras
His favourite thing to do? Watch you
After you finished your college you took a job at a company
Guess what? Your company just get purchased by a global company suddenly
And now he is your ceo
If someone bullies you they get fired
Your paycheck increases every damn month why? Because the ceo thinks you are very hardworking
Even if you just come and sleep in the office still your paycheck increases because according to him no one is more hardworking in this company than you
You are the employee of the month every month. Period.
And as a gift for your hardwork for the company you get diamond, rubby, emerald jewelery or a Europe trip or a yatch trip with him as a boss - employee bonding time
Soon you figure out that the secret admirer is none other than your ceo but you can't run away from him as he reminds you of the contract you signed with the company for your job which now suddenly implies if you quit work before the time you have to pay a huge sum so you just do the damn job while ceo pampers you with everything
He even has a huge mansion get built with a huge garden, greenhouse, fountains, swimming pool, library, huge french windows just like the house ideas pins you have kept saved in your pinterest. And even got the dog you wanted and the engagement ring ready as you have always wanted. Thanks to all the pins you saved in your pinterest and the notes you have kept saved in your phone.
He is all set to ask you to marry him. And no is not a option. And even if you said no he has his security team ready for plan B which is kidnapping you and marrying.
Requests are open!
For more yandere readingï»ż:
#yanblr#irl yan#yan blog#yandere#yancore#yandere thoughts#yandere x reader#soft yandere#yandere boyfriend#yandere x darling#yandere community#yandere ceo#yandere husband#Yandere secret admirer#yandere x you#yandere x yandere#yandere x y/n#obssesive#obssessed#obsessive yandere#actually obsessive#obsessive thoughts#obsessive love#possesive love#x reader#yandere smut#oc yandere#oc fic#yandere art#dom yandere
559 notes
·
View notes
Text
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
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
secret admirer part nineteen
254 words
one two three four five six seven eight nine ten eleven twelve thirteen fourteen fifteen sixteen seventeen eighteen
Eddie out of all the things i love like about you, your smile is my absolute favorite iâm talking the real one - not the one you use to put on a show i mean, call me cheesy if you gotta but itâs the truth i donât think thereâs anything i wouldnât do for that smile to be aimed at me -H
Eddie has a problem. Really, he does.
He canât keep doing this. As much as he likes the notes, itâs not fair to Tommy if he accepts the notes just to feel good about himself even though he couldnât care for the boy. And Eddie canât keep up whatever the hell he thinks heâs doing with Steve. The guyâs Tommyâs best friend, for Christâs sake!
No one makes him laugh like he does, though. And no one is that nice to him.Â
Eddie used to think Steve was better than Tommy simply because at least Steve didnât bother him. Indifference made him better, then. Now, itâs just him. Just Steve.Â
Unfortunately, Eddie has a brain. One that loves to make him look at things realistically.
As much as he likes Steve Harrington, nothing will ever come from it.Â
Maybe Tommy isnât as bad as he thinks. Maybe he wants to be better. Hagan likes Eddie, and no one has ever done that before, either. If he can be sweet in the notes, he can be sweet out of them. Whenever heâs ready, that is.
Eddie knows what he has to do. No more flirting with Steve.
twenty
tag list (closed)
@sofadofax @noodle-shenaniganery @queenie-ofthe-void @friendlyneighborhoodgaycousin @devondespresso
@dreamingtheimpossibe @plutoshelm @jaywhohasthegay @scarlet-malfoy @hotluncheddie
@dreamy-jeans137 @justdrugsformethanks @estrellami-1 @travelingtwentysomething @sleepy-steve
@wheneverfeasible @bisexual-and-broke @lil-gremlin-things @n0-1-important @xxbottlecapx
@tinyplanet95 @dannys-guilt-ridden-cockroach @theohohmoment @corvus-perplexus @hippieg1rl420
@blurryjoji @bookbinderbitch @arthurianace @dragonmama76 @thesuninyaface
@tillystealeaves @p0lybl4nkk @sageclipse @mugloversonly @chameleonhair
@thedragonsaunt @yesdangerpls @sanctumdemunson @slv-333 @loguine-linguine
@resident-gay-bitch @anaibis @moomkin77 @thrashbatx @salchica
@flustratedcas @ajeff855 @nerdyglassescheeseychick @pearynice @imaginary-maggie-waggie
sorry if i missed anyone!!
#guys stop name calling the boys#they don't know they're being dumb!!#yall#i have like negative free time#literally wrote this at work#đ€#steddie#eddie munson#tommy hagan#steve harrington#stranger things#secret admirer
424 notes
·
View notes
Text
your body isn't your own
#monkey d luffy#koby one piece#eustass kid#killer one piece#described in alt text#my art#my comic#secret modern au#art is concept ect#here i wanted to see how much i could implied with as little dialogue as possible. worked best in the first comic tbh#luffy is intersex in this AU now! (and a cis man) it's smth i had considered multiple time but never settled on until now because#i wasn't sure what to do with it but with how the plot evolved it makes a lot of sense and fixes some parts.#it's funny! he was meant to have some undiagnosed vague hormone disorder but i decided it's likely pms/pmdd (and maybe smth else#he's got a lot going on) and you kind need an uterus for that sooo.#genderwise he went through various flavors of gnc cis guy to genderqueer to ??? but now i'm thinking cis guy is best.#* VICE admiral btw. this what happen when you write comic past midnight
663 notes
·
View notes