芳村 エト ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ Eto Yoshimura x Reader

Sen Takatsuki x fan! reader

Requested by @WeirdSscorpio

Also the cover is a cosplay if anybody knows the cosplayer please leave a comment <3
________________________________

Your heart was pounding against your ribcage in a crazed way, completely out of beat and wild.
Your thoughts were a mess of squeals and excitement, any coherent words lost in the buzzing happiness.
You were finally going to meet her.

Sen Takatsuki's books had been your favourite since...well, since the moment you opened her debuting novel, Monochrome rainbow. Her words had a strange appeal to you-not just appeal exactly, a strange desire, they were...enticing? Maybe?
It wasn't something you could describe, but I guess the best way to explain it would be that you had pulled way too many all nighters to read, or even re-read, her work.

At the current moment, you were being elbowed and pushed by the masses of fans crying for Takatsuki's attention.

"Miss Takatsuki!"
"I love your writing!"
"You're gorgeous! Coffee later?"
"Could I get a quote from Sen Takatsuki for Channel 5?"
"Takatsuki-senpai!"

You stayed quiet, clutching your books so tightly they marred angry red lines into your (s/c) skin.

You couldn't even get a glimpse of her.

But you were on an emotional high right now, it didn't matter that you were separated by a wall of screaming nerds, you were still closer to her than you had ever been.

You couldn't keep the grin off your face.

The next forty minutes was a blur of being jostled around so much you were almost sick, books being thrown over your head, insane laughter, and more and more impending nervousness the further you battled your way through the crowd.

And suddenly, there was light.

You were shoved so roughly forward out of the masses that you fell on your face, cheek and palms pressed to the wooden floor.

The roar of the fans seemed slightly quieter now, more like a buzzing in your ear than a deafening orchestra.

And then you realised there were not hundreds of feet crowding around you, and that the reason the screaming and pleas sounded quieter is because you were separated from them.

You had fallen...on your face...in front of Sen Takatsuki.

Ice ran through your veins in a shot, then fire.

Scrambling for your books on the ground you had dropped, apologising over and over, you couldn't bear to raise your head.
You couldn't bear to look at your idol in person, after having just embarrassed yourself.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm sorry..." you whispered, still on your knees, eyes staring much to intently at the wooden planking, fingers turning white from clutching your books much too tightly.

"I'm so, so sorry..."

Now the crowd was silent, or at least it seemed silent to you. Maybe in reality the wailing was continuing.
Maybe.

And in the temporary state of calm induced by panic, you heard laughter.

An adorable giggle.

What?
And in that moment of confusion, you raised your head.

She was crouched right in front of you, in her oversized cable knit cardigan and ribbed stockings, brown leather ballet slippers scuffed and messy.
But her face was what captured you.

Framed by a few stray curls of green from her messy bun, her features were...
Entrancing, at least.
She wasn't pretty, you could never describe someone like her as "pretty".
No.
She was beautiful.

"Hey there." She laughed. "You need a hand?"

You could see yourself in the reflection of her circular glasses, (e/c) eyes wide with shock, hair greasy from not washing it for at least a week.

You gulped.

The famous and prestigious writer didn't wait for an answer, grabbing your grazed palm and pulling you upwards with such force you almost fell over for the second time.

"What's your name?"

Her question cut through the mist clouding your mind.
"(L/n) (f/n), Miss..."

"You can call me Sen." She smirked, pulling you over to the signing desk.

Your feet felt like they had blocks of cement attached to them.

"Sen..." you murmured almost absentmindedly.

She gently took Monochrome rainbow out your arms, flipping through the pages till she got to a seemingly random one.

"Pen?" She asked.
"What?"
"Do you have a pen?"
"Oh! Y-yeah, here."

Biro in hand, she scrawled out in cursive writing your name, and a series of numbers.

Pushing the book back into your chest, she winked.
"Call me!"

You stumbled away so fast you were at the door in seconds, peeking back over your shoulder, you saw her blow you a kiss before she was smothered by flashing lights, cameras and fans.