you and suna have been dating for a little over a year and have no plans to ever reveal your relationship to the public. you are both popular twitch streamers, so thousands of eyes are watching the two of you, literally. âare you dating anyone?â is a common question you both get on social media. this question is always deflected or ignored. itâs been like that even before you started dating suna. you saw how social media destroyed your other friendsâ relationships. people would either assume things or pray on their downfall out of jealousy. one of the worst was to be completely invalidated as a content creator and be labeled as someoneâs girlfriend/boyfriend. you decided that the public did not need to know about this part of your life in order to protect your mental health.
you told suna early on into your relationship that you would prefer if it was kept private. while he was a bit sad that he canât properly show everyone what an amazing significant other he has, he respects your decision and understands your reasoning. if it meant protecting you, then it was worth it. however, it sucked having to sneak around and never go out to different places for fear of someone catching you. he wanted to hug and kiss you whenever and wherever he wanted. now, he is only limited to doing intimate gestures in secluded areas or in your shared apartment.Â
eventually, enough was enough. the paranoia got too much to bear. this arrangement was having a negative effect on your relationship with him, the one thing you wanted to avoid. there has to be another way you two can go out together without rumors spreading, right? you and suna sat down and crafted an elaborate plan in order to be able to be seen together in public. after thorough research and several conversations with your streaming mutuals, you can bring this scheme to life and eventually spend as much time as you want with your boyfriend.
phase one: the third-wheel. you go out to dinner with suna and bring in kozume kenma (AKA kodzuken) to make a group of three because who would third-wheel a couple for dinner? it has to just be friends out together! you would post this on your instagram story and everyone would lose their minds. three big twitch streamers interacting with each other?! when worlds collide!
phase two: collabs. suna asked kiyoko shimizu and miya osamu to help you with this scheme as well. you would all do collabs with each other and establish this image of a group of friends. sometimes you play genshin impact with kenma and suna plays valorant with shimizu. other times you would play fall guys with the whole group. then, you sneak in a collab with suna. the public doesnât suspect a thing.
phase three: group outings. you, suna, kenma, shimizu, and osamu would plan to go out together to various places and take pictures to post on social media. you attend conventions with them and go sight seeing together. your audience goes wild at the thought of you being with so many of their favorite streamers and wish you the best. you decide to post some group photos and include some photos with only suna or only kenma. suna does the same with you, shimizu, and osamu. you keep the number of people in each photo random to keep suspicion at minimum.
final phase: solidifying friendships. you, suna, and the rest of the group opened up instagram questions. the question you all answered was âwho are your best friends?â. your list, in order, was yachi (your irl bestie), kenma, and suna. sunaâs list, in order, was osamu, shimizu, and you. you both kept each other at third place to mess with people. if you are that low on each otherâs list, then you must only be friends. at this point people started shipping you and kenma, while others starting shipping suna and shimizu. some people liked the idea of you and suna together, but it wasnât as common.
your plan is working, so you can start to get away with spending more time out with suna. you would go out for lunch, visit the beach, and attend big events together without too many people suspecting anything. you found some comments that were like âdo you think theyâre dating?â but then you would see some replies to them denying it saying âthey already stated multiple times that theyâre only friends. if you hang out with your friends often, does that mean youâre dating them?â and it puts a big grin on your face. mission accomplished.
you both havenât been very sloppy. you made sure to always mix in some one-on-one time with other friends in the group to keep rumors at bay. after all, if most your photos consists of alone time with suna, that would raise some eyebrows. while this set up had an ulterior motive, you grew close to the group and gained more meaningful friendships and connections. it was a win-win situation for everyone involved.
you still canât freely show public displays of affection, but at least you can finally go out to different places with your boyfriend.Â
_______
suna is close to ending stream when he happens to catch a message in chat,
chuupetlover10: are you dating y/n?Â
papermill7: ooo iâd like to know that too!
ây/n? theyâre just a really close friend of mine. please donât spread rumors. anything having to do with my relationships is private. thank you.â he firmly responds.
the people in chat apologize and the other people in his community are defending him saying to respect his privacy and friends. he feels relieved to have such a supportive community.
âthank you all so much for your support. i have to head off now, but i will be streaming again next friday! see you all then.â he waves to the camera and ends the stream. he double checks to make sure the stream is actually off and shuts down his PC.
suna walks out into the kitchen to see you cooking instant ramen. he sneaks up behind you to wrap his arms around your waist, making you jump. you relax once you realize itâs him and he nuzzles his face into your neck.
âhey rin, is stream over? how was itâ you ask while petting his soft hair.
he hums and turns you around to stare at your beautiful face. he canât believe how lucky he got. if only he could show the world...actually, maybe itâs a good thing your relationship is private. he gets to have your beauty all to himself.
âit was good, but some annoying people asked if we were dating again,â he pouted.
âeh, thatâs chat being chat, i guess,â you sighed, âdo you think they suspect anything?â you asked.
âno one suspects a thing,â he replies leaning his head down to give you a kiss.
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âŚ. perhaps a harry x reader blurb to spare 𤲠i will take anything u want to give me. fluff or smut or both or neither â¤ď¸â¤ď¸â¤ď¸â¤ď¸ u rock and my name is also evelyn so i feel bonded to u
u've absolutely made my day with this evelyn :((( i hope you like what i've concocted bestie, she's kinda all over the fucking place, but nonetheless, i hope you enjoy <33
wc: 2k
cw: not much, super fluffy, mildly (perhaps majorly) suggestive. not suitable for ramadan!! not proofread. lmk if i missed anything pls!!
Spring is here.
Fucking finally.
All the seasons were lovely to Y/N, each offered something the others didnâtâcouldnât. But spring was different. Special.
Like him.
Like Harry.
Perhaps thatâs why her love for it blossomed like the tulips lining her bedroom window; there was something about seeing her usually soft boyfriend get ten times softer as leaves started to sprinkle branches, blades of grass flashed a vibrant green once more, and the sun kissed the earth that got to her tender heart.
It was especially difficult to not melt when heâd planned a small outing for them, centered around the perfectly warm weather. Instead of waiting until nightfall and driving to some stuffy restaurant (although their dinner dates were never anything less than exquisite), they walked hand-in-hand down the boulevard in broad daylight, gentle wisps of wind the only thing surrounding them, as well as the quiet conversation of other passersby.
They didnât talk. They didnât have to. They were perfectly content to relish in the mere presence of one anotherâsoak in the rays of sun, and warmth. Love.
Thumbs gave mindless, delicate strokes against the back of palms, rucking up rings, kissing knuckles in apology, and putting them back in place, just to repeat it all over again. The knitted fabric of Harryâs cardigan is soft when it brushes against Y/Nâs bare arm (she decided that it was absolutely perfect weather to slip on her favorite flowy sundress, cinched at the waist and flared at the hips, printed with obnoxiously serene-looking flowers and hummingbirds, with a square neckline that farmed the intricate necklace Harry bought her for their second anniversary quite stunningly), but his hand in hers was softer. Better.
Said hand tugs on hers, urging her away from the beaten path and into the ravine of tall, never-ending treesâwillows and oaks; sycamores, birches, and maples, too. She resists, no less. Looks down at the cobblestone beneath her soles, and the cute kitten heels that (in her humble opinion) tie her whole spring-era look together.
She pouts.
And then a head of chocolate obscures her view of the pristine, white triangle toes. A hand placed both respectfully and salaciously on her ankle, coaxing her foot to slip from its confines, makes her breath catch in her suddenly dry throat.
Her kind eyes glaze over, ever so slightly.
âYâdonât haveâtââ
âI want to, Bellissima.â
Her shoe slips from her foot with a soft clatter on the ground when he manages to pry her sole from the earth, but it barely registers in her brain. In fact, everything else seems to fade away into the lovely spring that encompasses them when Harry guides his hand further up, along her fleshy calf, and leans in to place a chaste, staggering kiss to the bridge of her foot.
She wobbles, but they both know itâs not because sheâs been left to balance on one foot.
Harry smiles, faintâthe crater in his stubbled cheek is nearly invisibleâand nudges his nose along the smooth skin of her leg.
He works diligently (as diligently as one can when removing a shoe) to rid Y/N of her footwear, relieving her of any worry or pain.
He looks pleasantly boyish when he looks up at her, smiles all cheeky, and winks for good measure. Kneeling on cobblestone in a worn pair of jeans, suede, dirty Adidas, and a vintage band tee that smells of stale coffee, Chanel No. 5 (one of many preferred perfumes of Y/N), and sex no matter how many times they run it through the wash; the green of his seafoam eyes twinkling in the sunlight, sunnies pushing his hair back, and yet one rogue curl still bends and twirls with the wind, falling in a perfectly aesthetic spiral when it settlesâŚ
Soft. Boyfriend. Hers.
Her Harry.
He stands to his full height, and theyâre much closer than sheâd thought they would be, but sheâs certainly not complaining. Where before she stood at (about) Harryâs collarbone, now her head barely reaches the underside of his pecs. Her neck strains to keep eye contact as he slips his free hand back into her awaiting palm, the latter of which occupied with their stuffed picnic basket, and now her precious kitten heels.
âNeed me to carry you?â He asks, ready to suffer at least a weekâs worth of back pain if it meant heâd keep that love-struck, glowy, adorable (subby, stupid, filthy) look on his girlâs face.
Y/Nâs eyes widen subtly, though enough for Harry to notice, and he canât help but have to stifle a chuckle at her bashful demeanor.
âNo, thank you,â she squeaks, and now sheâs the one tugging his hand, urging them into the abyss of greenery, away from the hustle and bustle of the city.
The grass feels soft, ticklish, between her powder pink painted toes; she feels her lips stretch into a small grin because of it. They walk idly until they find a soft patch of vividly green grass directly under a tree, kissed fleetingly by the rays of sunlight peaking through the gaps of branches and leaves.
Harry lets his hand fall from Y/Nâs (and canât help but feel slightly colder because of it) to unpack their picnic basket. He grabs the signature red gingham picnic blanket from its place in the basket, releasing its folded form with a flourish. The material floats gracefully through the air until settling on the grass, near gingerly with the way it stops at just the very tips of the blades.
He kicks his chin toward the blanket in invitation as he settles on top of it himself, beginning to remove the contents inside their basket. Sandwiches, fruits, veggies; assorted cheeses and meats, cake, and, arguable most important, wine. He wastes no time in popping the cork from the rouge, pouring a generous amount into each of the pinot noir glasses heâd carefully tucked in the picnic basket.
Y/N kneels onto the blanket, walking on her knees until Harry is within reach, and his incessantly grabby hands are (surprise, surprise!!) grabbing her. He hands her her wine glass and sets his off to the side for the time being, sliding his bear palms up the full of her thighs, the swell of her bum, small of her backâŚ
She shivers as they pet down again, nails biting at her hips to grip and pull her into his lap.
âToo far,â he grumbles, nuzzling in the space where her neck and collarbone meet. He peppers soft kisses along the strong bone, inhaling the natural, overwhelming scent of her. His girl.
Y/N goes easily, sipping slowly at her red wine while her free hand comes up to his hair, fingers threading through the fluffy tendrils. She snatches his sunnies away when they block her half-hearted scalp massage, muttering delicate apologies when the bend of them gets stuck in his hair and he hisses at the sting.
âSorry, Baby,â she winces herself, chucking the damned glasses onto the blanket when sheâs gotten them loose, kissing along the crown of his head to soothe any ache.
She sips more, tart grape hitting her tongue, sugary plum sliding down her throat, strawberry slicking her lips. Sheâs borderline greedy with the way she downs it, but theyâve got nowhere to be. Only here. Just here. Now.
She twists in Harryâs laps to grab one of the homemade BLTs, offering the half she wonât stuff her fat gob with to Harry, which he politely accepts. They munch quietly, sharing soft smiles and love-sick kisses in between bites. Conversation is sparse, but not bad. Never bad. If anything, the weight of their words is heavier because theyâre so few and far between.
They both like it that way, anyhow.
When their feast has dwindled down to nothing but a few fruits and cakes, Harry fishes his phone from his pocket, and reaches in the picnic basket to grab his trusty pair of wired headphones. Hooking them up to his phone, he looks expectantly to Y/N. She raises her brow, never one to move unprompted.
Harry smirks, âCome, Bellissima.â
Her heart flitters, her stomach flutters, and her eyes round out (Harry tries not to think about how fucking easyâ). She crawls back to him, in a way that is unnecessarily intimate and innocent, and simultaneously astoundingly nasty, but he tucks the image into the deep, deep, dark recess of his mind so he doesnât get arrested for public indecency. Saves it for later (call it his spankbank).
He tucks a loose strand of her hair behind her ear before handing her and earbud, and lying down on his side. She follows, the two inserting the device into their ears at the same time. Her head instantly floods with staggered strings and piano, static, and then bass. Saxophone and acoustic guitar being delicately plucked, followed by a heady, gentle voice, similar to Bowie (but never as iconic).
âAbout You,â she whispers to him, her lips quirking.
Harry nods. Smiles, âThe 1975.â
As the music progressesâthe subtle vibrato of Matty Healyâs croon, the crescendo of each instrument and sound blending together to create one beautiful, extravagant, mind-bending symphonyâY/N swears she can see all five oceans in his eyes. The clear, breathtaking reefs, the lines that separates it from the rest of the water, dividing the calm from the chaos, the serene from the danger. She sees the deep, the unknown she wishes the dive further into, explore and discover, treasure for nothing but her own heart. And the seafoam that crashes up against the shore, the way it bubbles with joy and glistens in the light of the sun at the horizon, ever so fleeting as it washes back down the grains of sand.
She sees it all.
âSâpretty,â she mumbles, scooting closer as much as she can.
Harry wraps the arm not tucked under his head around her waist, pulling her closer. His eyes flit dazedly between her two.
She may see the ocean, but he sees the sky. The constellations, laid out for him beautifully, his for the taking. His.
He nods, âSâpretty.â Bumps his nose childishly against hers, smiles softly, triumphantly, when it scrunches up. His eyebrows pull together in the center, and he huffs a breath through his nose, âSâfucking gorgeous, Stellina.â
His mouth is on her before she can ask for a translation (thereâs only some many Italian pet names a girl can recall) tongue prodding at the seem of her lips until they give way and he can slide the wet muscle against her own. She tastes of their shared wine and vanilla buttercream, and he tastes of fresh peaches, mozzarella, and tangy balsamic vinegar. And yet, somehow, it mixes together to create something new, something better, arguably. He fits her bottom lip between his two, nipping and sucking at the plump flesh, pulling breathy whimpers and faint moans from his lover. His grunts and groans in response are no less self-deprecating (they were both, admittedly, getting extremely hot over a couple of third date level kisses).
Neither paid it much mind, however. Especially not when Harry flips around so heâs lying on his back and sheâs pressed firmly against his torso, bellyâs melding, chests grazing. Y/N canât stifle her soft gasp at the heavy weight of Harry against her inner thigh, but she canât reprimand him, for she is no betterâthereâs a puddle in the gusset of her panties.
âHarry,â she whines, lashes fluttering when his hands find the swell of her bum and squeeze through the flimsy fabric of her sundress.
âG'na take y'home now, Bellissima,â he husks against her open mouth, tongue flicking at the swollen mess. âFuck you the way y'deserve for being such a good girl todayââ She bristles, rocking into him and crying out softly because of it. ââand if y'keep it up, weâll go to thaâ cute little flee market y'keep tellinâ me about, yeah?â
Sheâs being bribed with his (impeccable; divine; otherworldly) cock and her love for all things vintage.
âCan we go to the botanical garden, too?â
Harry snorts, issues a teasing spank to her bum that makes her squeal, but smiles, nevertheless. âSure, Baby, whatever y'want.â
(Impeccable; divine; otherworldly) Cock, a flee market, and a botanical garden?
Sheâs in heaven. In happiness. In full bloom.
She fucking adores spring.
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Goldenheart headcanons for when they have only started dating and were awkward as hell
(because I am a trans bi teenager who wants to experience mlm love yet can't because I'm afraid to date boys due to my dysphoria)
I noticed you people like when I make long posts like these and I love them too so I think I can share some hcs of mine about this stage of their relationship bc I have a lot honestly :]
- they started dating when they were around 16yo
- none of them actually had feelings for each other before puberty hit and they were like "damn my bestie is kinda fine- WHAT"
- Bal fell first. Ambrosius fell and broke the floor under him bc boyyyy did he fall HARD
- Bal navigated his feelings like "Ugh okay I guess that's what happens when you're friends with a handsome guy everyone has a crush on. That'll pass. That's part of puberty. Stay calm" meanwhile Ambrosius screamed in his pillow and freaked out and cried only to pretend nothing bothered him. It was hard to pretend when you literally study at the same academia/school/whatever and see each other every day bc you're best friends
- during the mutual pining era the PE lessons were DIFFICULT. Especially when they were put up against each other
- they look like friends who had no problem hugging/brushing each other's hair/being close physically in general yet when the feelings appeared, the things which used to be very easy turned torturous
- Ballister was the one to ask if Ambrosius saw that their friendship changed. Ambrosius couldn't hold it in anymore and mumbled through his confession so fast and awkward Ballister has only understood phrases like "I really like you" and "romantically I mean" and "you're very cool and that'd be sick if we became boyfriends"
- Bal turned his face to the side and muttered something like "yeah I think it would"
- and so they became boyfriends!!
- has something changed in the way they behaved around each other? Yeah but also not really. They were still besties and the physical contact became A LITTLE easier now that the sorta relationship they had was clear between them, but they just couldn't help but blush while touching each other
- their first kiss was a mess dudeđđ
- Ambrosius wanted it to go as smoothly as possible so he watched romantic movies and practiced kissing with his hand (embarrassing? Yeah I now) but when it was time to finally show off his skills he panicked and pressed his lips to Ballister's for a few seconds then his nose almost bled out bc of the nerves (not me projecting on Ambrosius but that's literally what happened to me when I had my first kiss)
- Ballister seemed calm about this whole thing but it doesn't mean he was. When they had their first ever date he brushed his teeth extra clear just to make sure he'd smell good during their first kiss. Bro was THRILLED
- basically Ambrosius was overthinking this and Ballister was... Also overthinking I'M SORRY THESE TWO ARE HORRIBLE
Now the headcanons are for the time when they've been dating for like more than a few months and have kinda got used to each other in this new ~romantic~ way
- Bal's way of flirting wasn't really obvious since he doesn't look like a guy who can come up with romantic compliments on the spot, however I think he touched Ambrosius if he wanted to express his feelings for him. Stroke his bleach-damaged hair, make their pinkies intertwine, put his head on his shoulder and nuzzle into him - this or he'd infodump new history/physics/chemistry facts he learnt
Bal: Okay, did you know that [some really complicated science stuff I cannot describe in words because I'm a literature major]
Ambrosius, heart-eyed, no clue what he's talking about: Wow that's really interesting anyways do you want me to change my surname to Boldheart-
- Ambrosius looks like a total theatre kid so I think he often flirted with Bal by quoting some love poems they had in their curriculum. Of course he quoted their analogue of Romeo's monologue under Juliet's balcony why do you think he wouldn't
- Having said that, whenever he quoted something which referred to a woman, he changed pronouns and general words bc he's attentive like that. Sometimes it got absurd tho. "Manservant of the moon" instead of "maid" like dudeđđđđ
- Ballister tried his best not to laugh but also not to pass out bcuz of the amount of praise his boyfriend gave him which was actually a lot. My man is as much of a mess as Ambrosius is let's not forget that
- one day Ambrosius quoted something which was not from the curriculum but instead from Bal's favorite book. I think Bal liked adventure books about knights which sometimes included romance and I imagine the dialogue going:
Ambrosius: "And even if I had to turn against the whole world to follow you-
Them together: "-I would do it with no hesitation-"
Ambrosius: "Because you are my world, Sir Redsword"
Them: *staring at each other*
Bal, all blushing: ...that's not from the books our teacher told us to read
Ambrosius, also blushing madly: Yeah but I figured I like some variety
- That's when Bal knew this guy was his forever soulmate
- Bal used to be taller than Ambrosius for a long time of their early years but then Ambrosius got late height boost or idk how it's called. Basically dude went from 5'5 to 6'1 overnight and I know Ballister was PISSED
- these two totally kissed in the janitor's closet when they needed some privacy I'm telling you (not even in a "steamy" way although I think some sort of tension existed - cmon they were late teens bro do you really think puberty is nice to teenagers???).
- why would you get a private space where you can explore this side of your relationship safely when you can have a literal closet with racks and mops and buckets, am I right
- Ambrosius tried writing poems for Ballister they SUCKED
- Ballister still saved each and one of them. One day, he'll sort through his things to move to his own place after the wall comes down and find these yellow checkered sheets of paper, full of bad rhymes and silly words. He'd bring all of them to his (and Ambrosius's) new apartment
Okay now the last hcs which I honestly have no idea how to call but umm â¨what people around them thought about their blooming romanceâ¨
- Queen Valerin understood something was up on the spot. Like, for a straight woman, her gaydar worked flawlesslyđ it was enough for her to see them hide the fact that they held hands to go "I know what you are". She was pretty supportive although she did ask Bal on their one-to-one meeting to "use protection" like all moms dođ
- The Director also knew something was up but her reaction was more like "Sir Ambrosius will grow out of it". As you know, he never did LMAOO
- Todd was hilariously oblivious despite teasing Ambrosius like "HAHA LOLLLL GOLDENLOIN WHY R U ALWAYS WITH THIS COMMONER GUY ARE YOU IN LOVE WITH HIM OR SOMETHING". He did it in a cishetero "haha gotta mock my homie for being gay" yet DID NOT REALIZE his homie was, indeed, gay
- some cadets could pick up on it, some didn't
- anyway I think the general public knew nothing about it bc if they did that'd be a scandal worse than Henry the 8th's when he created a new religion bc his loins were on fire thanks to Anne Boleyn
ALSO GET THIS LITTLE PIECE (which I don't really like bc of the coloring choices) OF THEM :D
I swear Ambrosius isn't yellow irlđđ I'm myself asian I now better than that
That's about it I guess! Lemme know what you think (if you wanna use/adopt these hcs, feel free to do whatever you want with them! Just tag me so I could see it wjsjjajaj!!!!) ;3
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