preppin’ kuni for the 24 hour stream ♡
"does my eyeliner look even?”
relationship | streamer!kuni x gn!reader synopsis | right before the big 24 hour stream that kuni was going to do because he lost a bet with his chat, he needed some help fixing his iconic red liner. content | fluff! cw | plenty of kuni swearing (i can’t NOT make him swear) a/n | Definitely going to have a part 2, but not sure if I want to write out the stream portion! def the post stream. part 1!
“You ready for this?”
You were propped up against the oak doorframe, idly watching your boyfriend touch up his famous red eyeliner. His agape mouth slowly shuts as his focused stare shifts from his lower lashes to your reflection in the mirror. He caps his liquid eyeliner. He stares hard into the chrome mirror, making eye contact with your entertained stare.
“Absolutely the fuck not.”
You snort, pushing yourself off of the doorframe, and waltzed into the cramped bathroom. The counter was covered with various products, ranging from his multi-step skincare to his myriad of black eyeliners. He grimaces when he notices you hopping up on the bathroom counter, making yourself comfy next to him. One of his eyeshadow brushes rolls into the sink. Kuni mutters under his breath as he shoves some of his makeup away from your legs to the otherside of the sink. “I’m not nervous,” he starts, his hardened stare moving from his half-done makeup to your nosy gaze, “I just really fuckin’ regret agreeing to this. I don’t know why I agreed to such a ridiculous idea-“
You smiled and clutched his hands as he rambled, the ones fiddling with the cylindrical tube of red eyeliner. He said he wasn’t nervous, but the fidgeting spoke otherwise. “To be fair, you lost a bet.” He rolls his eyes at this but doesn’t bite back with anything. You weren't wrong, unfortunately. “You’ll do great. I’ll stay up as long as I can, but I’ll take nap here and there.” He glares at this and huffs, ripping his hands away from your hold as he fumbles with the cap to finish the other eye.
“Some lover you are.” He grumbles, pressing the red-felt tip against his lower lashes. “You’re supposed to be my manager. Why did you actually approve this? This is terrible for my health.” His complaints simmers down to a focused silence as he drags the liner on his skin. The felt tip presses into his outer corner as he slowly makes multiple swipes down, ending almost below the start of his gray-blue eyes. You watch silently, mentally noting how the pigment looked thinner than the other side. Kuni quickly steps back from the mirror, leaning back to scrutinize his work. His eyes darted from the left and right eye, but he eventually huffs and turns to you, watching your legs idly swing back and forth under the counter.
His impatient stare and folded arms broke through the silence in the bathroom. “Does it look even?” He prompts, opening his eyes wide, giving you a sign to lean in close to give your thoughts. “I think the left side is a little thin.” He adds helpfully, tapping the tube on his left cheek. He puffs his cheeks, almost giving a pouting look as he waits for your opinion. After one second of silence, he holds out the liner to you, silently prompting you to take it and fix his work.
You hum, grabbing the liner from his hands as you pull him close. You cradle his right cheek in your hand to steady yourself and Kuni’s breath hitches and he stops breathing when you lean closer to get a better look.
“Left side is a little thin…” you murmur, languidly uncapping the pen with one hand. The plastic cap pops off and soars through the air, clattering nosily on the floor.
“H-how could I trust you to fix my eyeliner if you’re this clumsy?” Kuni tries to tease, but his stutter gave away how insincere his jab really was. He’d rather die than admit watching your fingers nimbly pop the cap off was a little hot.
You pay him no mind as your tongue peeks out from between your lips, your eyebrows furrowed in concentration. With his neck craned back, Kuni stares at your focused gaze, a sprinkle of red beginning to dust the tips of his ears and the peaks of his cheeks as he realizes how close you were to his face. Cotton seems to be growing into his ears; in the distance, he hears your scolds to ‘keep still! I don’t want to mess up your pretty face-’
The sound of his heartbeat was pounding in his eardrums. The rhythmic ghosting of your breath on his face had his eyes fluttering. A complaint erupted from your lips as you annoyingly reminded him to keep still, god you’re so twitchy-
“…pretty….”
Quiet praise slips from his lips out and his eyes immediately widen as he rips himself from your grasp as if your hand’s temperature suddenly skyrocketed and seared his skin. You yelped as your eyes dart to his face, checking to see if his sudden movements made any unsightly marks on his face. If the heat from your hand was real and scalding, it would be a great excuse for the red hue staining his cheeks and ears. Unfortunately, the heat from your hand was just a pleasant warmth that now faded. The heat from your hand might have left, but the burning embarrassment kept his face nice and toasty.
Kuni turns to the big mirror in the bathroom, “I cannot believe I just fuckin’ let that slip.” He utters with disbelief, eyes racing to yours through the reflection, checking to see if you were going to laugh at his expense.
Kuni’s fingers gripped the edge of the counter, his knuckles bouncing between pink and a white hue as his grip slackened and tensed. He notes your startled look simmer into bemused contentment. You were way too patient with him, he realized. He eyes the firm grasp you have on the liner and he goes in to snatch it from your hold to finish the job himself. You see the tension slowly accumulate in his jaw when you jerk the tube away high into the air out of his reach. With a quiet growl of irritation, he steps closer to nab it from your outstretched hands, but your sudden hold on his shoulder makes him pause.
“Give it back. I can fix it myself.” He grits out, a combined fluster and irritation etched on his face. ‘So fuckin’ embarrassing…’
Your soft call of his name shakes him from his thoughts.
“…c’mere,” you murmur softly, your hand trailing up from his shoulder, up his neck, and back onto his cheek and his voice dies in the back of his throat, his mouth slightly agape. The tube that was held high in the air away from him slowly sank down to resume its task. A tiny, almost inaudible, embarrassing squeak is all that manages to be articulated when you thumb his cheek.
Your soft hand cradles his face for stability as you finally press the felt tip against his lower lash line. His breath hitches as he stares at you once again, noting how the yellow light from the bathroom seemed to give you a divine glow, rightfully crowning you with a halo. It takes all his willpower to conceal his flustered shaking. The cool drag of the liner was soon forgotten when he zoned in on the returning softness and warmth of your hand. Your tongue peeks out again as you hum in concentration, steadying yourself as you thickened the line of red pigment, occasionally referencing the other side for symmetry. In your hold, you can feel the tension in his body dissipate as he relaxes bit by bit. The wrinkles between his eyebrows eventually smooth out as his face unknowingly and cutely droops into your hand. He gently rests one of his shaky hands on your thighs and gently squeezes.
“Don’t mess me up.” He mutters. Internally, he grimaces when he thinks about how astronomically down bad he is for you. ‘…actin’ like a tamed, feral cat…’
You lean back and squint, double-checking your work. “I think you’re good to go- Oh! You’ve got some eyeshadow on your lashes. Close your eyes so I can blow it off.”
Your dark-haired boyfriend quirks an eyebrow, but obeys, closing his eyes and waiting for the burst of air. You take a quick moment to admire the relaxed look gracing his features. He definitely looks very pretty when he wasn’t scowling.
Instead of feeling a sudden puff of air, he feels your lips press onto his and his eyes snap open in surprise. He doesn’t pull away though. He’d never pull away. The shocked streamer just stands there as you pull away with a cheeky grin. He half-heartedly rolls his eyes for the umpteenth time in the small bathroom as he finally pulls away.
“...you need Chapstick,” he grumbles, bending down to pick up the cap. “D-dry-ass havin’ lips.” He bites further as he passes the cap to you. You laugh and pout, your grumble about him being a liar and ‘I use plenty of Chapstick!’ falling deaf to his ears. The quiet ‘click’ of the cap echos in the room.
“But thank you for the help.” He finishes, staring at himself in the mirror. “It looks good.” Kuni nods at himself in approval when he sees how well you fixed his look. Internally, he decides he’d ask you to do his red eyeliner from now on. He does some finishing touches on his own.
Eventually, he slaps his hands on his cheeks three times and huffs, “okay, I can do this. I can do this. I can do this.” He hypes himself up in the mirror and then quickly turns to you. He gingerly grabs your hand, trying to gently help you off the counter, and drags you into the stream room. After the two of you run through the stream schedule for the next 24 hours, Kuni slips on his headset and settles into his chair. As you settle down next to him in your own chair, he fiddles with his stream settings one last time.
“Ready for this?” You ask, clasping his hand that was resting on the table. You fiddle with the black rings on his fingers.
His shoulders nearly fly to his ears as an overdramatic shrug, shifting his hand to tangle his fingers with yours. He quickly leans over to peck your cheek and flops back into his chair with a sigh.
“Let’s get this shit over with so we can cuddle.”