piekometre

[piekometre]

With Love, König tags: König x f!reader/f!oc, regency era au, manners, collaring, courting, king!König, reader is mildly insane, König is going to marry you and that's a threat Summary: Your fiance runs off, your reputation is in ruins, and worst of all König has decided he's going to make you his queen. He doesn't even ask your father's permission to do it.

You receive word that your fiance has left you in the short hours of the morning. It comes in a carefully folded note, with his seal, and his signature. It's cruel, but not unexpected. You'd known for long enough that this was an engagement for nothing but your title. Still, you shed a few tears onto the parchment at the loss of your future, bleak as it might have been. You can rest assured that your parents, and the rest of the social world, have already received the news. You expect they'll start looking for another match for you soon.

The second letter is somehow more surprising. You don't recognize the black wax seal, or the handwriting. You don't know how it slipped past your family without being opened, but it's tucked on the same tray as your fiance's letter and you break the seal with cautious fingers.

"My Heart," it begins, and you frown at the familiarity, "You have bewitched me, body and soul. My every hour is spent with thoughts of you. The memory of your touch is only remedied by my own hand, and even that is not enough. I hope that you will accept this small token of thanks for the dance we shared, and look forward to our next meeting with the same fervor I do."

You look up from the letter to stare at the wall. You narrow your eyes at the wallpaper and do your best to try and think of who the fuck is sending you love letters. Certainly not your ex-fiance, he never did more than send you a note asking you to wear something "more appropriate" for the next party. You look back at the letter. It's a bit stuck at the bottom, likely to keep whatever token it contains in place. You slip your finger carefully under the edge of the fold to open it. A silk ribbon flutters onto your lap as you stare down at the king's signature. "With Love, König" in perfect royal handwriting.

You scramble to ring for your maid, you need to get dresses and you need to speak to your father immediately. Your maid seems to either not know or not care that you are received a letter from a king because she helps you get ready with her usual compliments and coos. Disinterested in the day ahead of you, you always assume. She ties the ribbon behind your ears when you ask her what to do with it. The black clashes, but you don't have time to argue.

König is already in the sitting room with your father when you finally make it downstairs. He stands almost as quickly as you drop into a low curtsy. Your father stands too and you're taken aback by how small he looks next to König. Your father has always been a proud man, a man to be feared as much as respected, but next to König he may as well be a child. You drop your eyes to the floor, proper and polite.

"Gott in himmel," König breathes, and your eyes dart to him. His brows are drawn together, like he's in pain. You can't tell if he's displeased when you can only see half of his face, his mouth obscured by a dark black cloth. You meet his eyes and are quick to avert your gaze, lest the heat in his burns you.

You rise from your curtsy and keep your eyes on the floor. "My lord," you greet, and hear him hum. He's pleased you think.

"My lady," The way he stresses "my" makes you shiver, his lady, "look at me when I speak to you." You're quick to follow his command, the tightness in his tone is intriguing, but you can't see a reason for it when you do look up at him.

Your father attempts to raise issue when König stalks towards you, his voice drowned out by the way the king fills your vision. You barely flinch when he grabs your chin, and turns your head. His skin against yours is unfamiliar and rough, it makes your skin prickle with heat as he sighs.

"You're wearing this wrong, Hummelchen," He tells you, his free hand going to tug at the end of the ribbon around your head. The black silk is tugged loose, falling delicately into König's grip. His thumb teases your lower lip, improper and entirely hidden from your father. "You want to wear this right for me, ja?"

You open your mouth to answer and he pushes his thumb between your lips, presses down against your tongue to hold you open. Your eyes dart in your father's direction, panic rising in your chest. König's eyes crease at the edges, he tips his head to watch your tongue try to work under his grip. You settle for swallowing, your lips closing around his finger as you nod your head. What else can you do in the face of a king?

"Braves Mädchen," He praises sending another prickle of heat over your skin. You feel like all your manners are just being thrown out the window, it's making your head spin. His grip loosens, his thumb sliding out from between your lips to smear the wetness against your hot cheek. Warmth pools between your legs, entirely too familiar, and entirely his fault.

König makes a twirling motion with his finger, and you don't hesitate to turn. You can hear his fingers pulling the length of ribbon between his hands, and you're glad to have your hair off your neck when he loops the ribbon around your throat. You have to tip your chin up, you have the sudden --and startlingly appealing-- thought that he could very easily choke you like this. König's fingers pull the ribbon tight, and you make a quiet noise of... protest? Approval? You make a noise, and it loosens just enough to be comfortable. He's quick to tie a neat bow, the tails of it hanging on either side of your spine. You touch your fingers to the silk. Like a collar.

König's fingers linger on your neck, and you tilt your head to afford him space to touch. Each brush of his skin makes your heart race, this monster of a man is so gentle with you. As if you were some treasure he could hardly afford. He curls over you, one of his hands sliding down your arm. He grips your wrist tight, and raises it to his lips. You turn your head to watch him, his eyes are dark when he catches you staring. His teeth flash dangerously in the light where they scrape against your pulse. Not so gentle then.

"You will accompany me to the next party," He leaves no room for argument in his command, states it like a fact predetermined by God, "We'll announce our engagement there."

"Your what?" You father asks behind König, aghast at the breach in conduct. You hardly notice it, entranced by the way he presses his cheek into your palm.

"Kay," You breathe for him. He's just like one of the heroes from your penny novels, better for being real. You wonder if he's ever killed anyone, he'd look good with a little blood on him.

[piekometre]

the first haul of 2024 💗

[piekometre]

these are soo fun to make (･ω･´)

[piekometre]

The Boy Masterlist

A/N: My kinktober (2023) is about Brahms Heelshire this year. I saw the movie a few weeks ago, and I had to write it out of my system.

Important: After kinktober is over, I won't write more about him. As I said, I just need him out of my system. It also means that I don't take requests about him.

More: This series of oneshots is about the same Reader and her life with Brahms, but they can be read as stand-alones since they are mostly smut with barely any plot.

Have fun!

Brahms Heelshire

2023

Brahms's playtime - Brahms comes out of his hiding place while you are asleep. /18+

A shocking night - You find out Brahms is alive and wants to protect you. /18+

Another night - Brahms wakes you up in the middle of the night to take care of him. /18+

Forget them all, Wendy - Brahms gets bored while you are reading him. /18+

Compromise - Brahms lets you out of the house after making sure you know who you belong to. /18+

Reward - Brahms is upset but you need internet. /18+

New things - Brahms learns new things on the internet. /18+

Yours - You want to make his first time memorable. /18+

A new morning - Brahms wakes up with a new-found energy. /18+

Records - You let Brahms record you. /18+

Behind the walls - You go after Brahms after an argument. /18+

Run - Brahms wants to play. You have to run. /18+

Bedtime story - You are more interesting to Brahms than the book you read. /18+

For breakfast - Breakfast can wait while Brahms is dreaming about his future with you. /18+

[piekometre]

❊ turn me down - michael kaiser . . loving you might just be the unluckiest fate.

there is an ache in kaiser's chest that he can't get rid of.

it's been lingering for far too long to be normal. like a broken wire, sparks fly down his spine, burning from the inside. he's already tried writing it off as bad sleep. he's tried explaining it away as lifestyle, or certain foods, or other irrelevant factors. but no matter what he tries, this dull pain, it persists. it lives inside him; a parasite.

he feels it when the train slows to a stop. he feels it in his history lecture when his professor says something dull. he feels it on the football field when he really, really shouldn't. kaiser can't escape the sensation. it follows him like a shadow, like a bad omen, like a ghost.

and the only solution, he's found, is your touch.

this is discovered on a rain-soaked monday. the both of you had been taking cover in your apartment, and your roommates were all out. it hadn't been awkward, not at all. because before anything else, the both of you were friends. you'd met in a chemistry class a few months back. your friendship was new, and it was easy; it was even easier for him to fall for you.

maybe it had happened that night, when the two of you had shared your first kiss together. when you'd both agreed to be a little more than friends, but not much more. when he'd first touched you the way he wanted to. or maybe he'd fallen for you before that— back in the class, back to your first study session. or maybe it was sometime after. he doesn't know. he may never know. but as it stands, that's where he is; hopelessly, pathetically infatuated with you.

he thinks of it as something like a blessing. the way you talk to him makes him feel tethered and real. the way your hands trace familiar pathways down his back on late nights makes everything feel right. the way you care about him makes his whole body burn enough to forget the stupid ache in his chest.

you've always been hard to read. he can never quite tell what you're thinking, although he itches, burns, to have every single piece of you learned and memorised. is it just for fun to you? or is it more, like it is to him? do you think about him when he's not there like he thinks about you? does his touch make you feel okay for once, too? he hopes so. he needs it to be true, really. because there is something desperate about the way he loves you. like he's grasping at something that's always just out of reach. like you're the only cure for his pain. like you're the only good thing he has, like he can't let you be just a friend.

but that's all you are, really; just friends. nothing less but also nothing more. an unfortunate conundrum. and even more unfortunate is the fact that in his blindness, he'd neglected to account for the fact that friends-with-benefits was no kind of commitment, either.

the bar is muggy and crowded on friday nights, and tonight is no different. kaiser is usually by your side, but he's let himself get pulled away by some of your friend group for a game of pool. but when he's done, and searches for you, you aren't alone. there's a stranger seated in the barstool where he once was, making conversation with you— and you look amused. a hand is propping your head up and your body is tilted towards the stranger, and your eyes crinkle a little around the corner like they do when you find something funny, and kaiser is angry. his body aches, it burns. an ugly feeling melts into his bones, mixing not-too-well with the alcohol already in his system as he moves to where you're sitting.

maybe it's ego. maybe it's envy. or maybe, just maybe it's desperation, as he inserts himself between you and the man with a crooked grin in your direction. "everything okay here, darling?"

you might be hard to read at times, but there's no mistaking the venom that burns behind your eyes as you glare at him. it should hurt. but you're looking at him, so how bad could it be?

you feign a smile and play along, presumably to avoid embarrassment. "yes. yes, actually, more than okay. in fact, i'm ready to go now. mind paying my tab?"

he likes you when you're irritated. he likes you all the time. he'd pay your tab even if you didn't ask. kaiser can feel your anger swell as the man you were speaking to dismisses himself, and as he leads you out of the bar. but he can't be angry. not now, because you take his hand when it's offered. he knows it's to avoid a scene, but he'll pretend it's more than that. your hand in his sends warmth down his body in sparks, enough to make everything else disappear.

"what the hell was that?"

you're mad. he knew you'd be. but he loves you so he just smiles like an idiot.

the street outside the bar is mostly empty. no one is close enough to hear your conversation, and only a few bar hoppers remain, waiting for a cab or stumbling to their next destination. a streetlight shines down on you, turning you amber in its light. you look beautiful. you might've been waiting for him to respond, he's not sure; but when he doesn't, you keep going.

"kaiser, what is your problem?"

something about your saying his name snaps him out of his haze. oh. what was he doing?

"we agreed," you continue, "we're just friends. just friends. we're not anything, kaiser. we're nothing, got that?"

you're mad, you're so mad. and your words burn and sting, like whips on skin, like fire on flesh. he's silent. he doesn't have anything to say, now that the fog has lifted around his brain. you and him were nothing. he loves you like a godless man, but you and him are nothing.

"right," is all kaiser says. he lacks his usual conviction or confidence. he fears that you may be the only person who will ever be capable of reducing him to ashes. you cross your arms and stare at him with a sardonic, "yeah. right."

he loves you. he loves you like a saint, he loves you like you're all he has. and he realises, right there on the sidewalk in front of a dingy bar, that loving you does nothing but hurt.

he never ached the way he does now before he met you. he never burned with emotion too strong to contain. knowing you brought on the pain, and loving you made it worse, and being around you ruined him. this was not a blessing. this was a curse. your touch was not a cure as much as it was a cause.

it hurts to love you. it hurts to love you this much and get nothing back. he knows he shouldn't, now, he's realised that it'll only make things worse. he shouldn't. but he can't let you go, not now. he's addicted to the pain, he's addicted to the melancholy of it all. which is why he smiles. which is why he says, "can i take you home and make up for it, then?"

your face is unreadable, you're sure. and he'd never know how you were feeling at that very moment. because you're hard to read on purpose. because you're not ready for him to know. but that same pain, that same hurt; you feel it too. that same love. unrequited, in your eyes. nothing but trouble. that same love, that makes you smile back. that same love that makes you say, "it's the least you could do," as you take his hand and leave.

maybe one day one of you will have the courage to shut it down or open up. maybe one day, you'll both really end up as either something or nothing. maybe one day, the ache of love's burden will lift. but for now, the pendulum swings as one of you waits for the other to finally put them out of their misery, and turn them down.

flower chosen: yellow rose . . jealousy

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[piekometre]

BIG GUY || SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY X GN!READER

my masterlist

Word counter – ~1,8k

Tags/Warnings – Fluff, a bit of miscommunication and jealousy, nothing much.

Summary – Ghost takes a liking to the nickname you give him, but struggles to understand just how much he likes it.

A/n – I’m still struggling with my school projects so wish me luck, I made this instead of making a video for my language class lmao, enjoy! i’ll add the ao3 link a bit later.

It didn't miss anybody, the way Ghost seemed more easygoing and light-hearted on certain days, letting recruits get away with a bit more than usual. Coincidentally, it was right after various interactions with you, be it training or sparring together, doing reports, moving some shit around the base, or just hanging out in the common room. Nobody could just figure out what it was about your interactions that lifted Simon’s spirits so high, which was notoriously hard, courtesy of how gloomy or menacing the man usually appeared. But the answer was quite simple, really.

“Thanks, big guy. Always a huge help.” Simon catches your small smile as you pat him on the shoulder and nods, barely containing his joy, he’d hate to make it too obvious. He was wearing a balaclava after all, and the smallest stretch of the fabric on his cheeks and around his mouth could easily give away how joy spread itself in his chest at the affectionate nickname.

Big guy. Big guy. Your big guy.

Nickname reserved only for him, exclusively from you. Of course, Ghost knew he’d be larger than your average soldier, and that regularly got acknowledged by others, but something about you calling him like this made it different. That pleasant warmth inside, which reminded him of the sun, or that stupid fluttering in his stomach, was…unusual to say the least. It made his mood better almost instantly, an interaction he eagerly, but silently looked forward to each day. Something about you calling him a big guy made his head spin, swimming in the endless clouds. Something Ghost hasn't felt in a long time and didn’t think he’d ever experience.

It was easy to let down his guard around you, you stripped him of the metaphorical armor just like this, with an effortless joke and that godforsaken pet name thrown in somewhere in the conversation. And just like that - Ghost’s low laugh rumbled in unison with yours, heart missing a beat when he looked into your eyes that sparkled with something unknown and captivating. It felt…good. New. And so fucking warm, Ghost felt like he was about to suffocate.

You were the newbie, your reputation preceded you but Ghost didn’t pay much attention to all the rumors swirling around on the base, like some suspicious soup in a boiling pot. He had better things to do. Like following you similarly to a lost puppy, maybe staring intently right at you with his huge brown eyes, if he was feeling brave. Or lingering somewhere around, just to make sure you’re adjusting alright. After all, all of you soldiers have to look out for each other, right? Right. Definitely.

It felt good to finally be able to just laugh and play around with someone, who didn’t seem scared shitless by his presence, mask and, well…everything about him, that seemingly drove people away. Not that he didn’t understand the reasoning for that – quite on the contrary. But you were probably just built differently, drawn to the weird, unappealing, and scary. Maybe Ghost should feel lucky that you were like that. And truth be told, he did. He liked it and he liked you.

Ghost could only hope that he lightened up the things for you the way you did for him. To ask and dig deeper would probably be too much, Simon could still feel that caution and tremble at the mere thought of trying to grow closer to you and spend even more time together. Like he’ll put a curse on you the moment he decides to open up a bit more and show you at least some inner workings of his mind on a more intimate level than just some stupid puns, or gossip and discussions about the way you spent your day. Although they were certainly pleasant, with you giving him a subtle, understanding smile from across the table, while steam from your coffee mug made it seem so domestic and wholesome like Ghost was in a dream. So, Ghost kept what little distance he could, despite his wishes, and hoped that you take your time and be patient with him.

That is until he overheard something that startled him, to say the least.  

“Well, your jokes are a bit too much for me, big guy.” You say, letting out a clear, loud laugh, as you patted Soap’s chest. Scotsman straightened up almost immediately in front of you, a proud toothy smile beaming on his face. Now Ghost felt like he just got punched in the gut, for some reason. Annoyed and on edge in a split second. But why? He truly couldn’t seem to pin down the reason for the surge of anger and something bitter in his chest, bubbling right under his skin.

It was probably nothing worth his attention. Just something weird with his body, exhaustion from the training, muscle cramps...or whatever it could be. In any case, running headfirst into dissecting his mind for something so small and minuscule? Ridiculous, really. Completely unnecessary. Of course, Simon knew that both you and Johnny weren’t saints, two rascals more like, but he had no obvious reason to feel this bitter stinging inside of him, that slithered and slipped around, followed by tightening of his throat and bobbing of his Adam’s apple. He swallowed loudly, trying to wash down that gross aftertaste on his tongue hours after he saw that interaction. And the fact that he couldn’t get it out of his head was telling enough, that he was, in fact, bothered by something.

So, Simon decided to do what he did best. Bottle it up. But then it just kept sitting in his head, that nasty feeling still eating him from the inside out. It didn’t help that he started seeing you talking with Johnny more often, while Simon unintentionally avoided you, still buried deep in his thoughts and contemplations about what caused him to feel the way he did. Of course, he couldn’t help but eavesdrop. And there you were. Laughing with him. Calling him “big guy”. Again. This only caused Simon to become more cranky and unfriendly, taking his frustrations out on poor privates who’ve never ran so many laps in their entire lives.

The only people Ghost was outright cruel and merciless to were his enemies. He wasn’t the friendliest guy, of course, but everyone noticed when the lieutenant who usually would crack jokes and dumb puns at the expense of others at most suddenly started to get annoyed at smaller mistakes more, using harsher words and overall look like he was down in the dumps. Nobody dared to talk about the subject though, so Ghost was left terrorizing the privates and recruits, having lunches in his office and avoiding areas where he knew you’d be at certain times of the day from your long talks before. Which, of course, didn’t help him to understand what was wrong at all.

So, all Ghost was left with were his own thoughts. He didn’t feel jealous of you interacting with other people before. You were never his, so he had no right for that at all. But there had to be something else that pushed Simon to where he was now, tired, unsatisfied, and craving at least a passing smile and a short “Hey there” from you. So that the two of you could sit down somewhere together, and you’d talk about some irrelevant nonsense, and then you’d open your mouth again and call him “big guy”. It didn’t feel fair that Johnny got to be called that. It was Simon’s nickname. From you. Wait-wait-wait, hold on a second.

The sudden revelation as to why exactly Ghost was feeling that way when he saw you talk with the sergeant hit him like a damn bus. Fuck, that is childish. Weird. God, Simon feels like a damn creep. Getting upset because of a damn nickname, way to fucking go, you oaf. This felt confusing. Irrational. Absolutely fucking stupid. To think that something that simple threw him off so easily. That’s human relationships for you. Now it felt like he needed even more time. Not to make it complicated. Not to hurt you and himself.

Regardless of his wishes, he didn’t have any more time to think when he was soon approached by you, a concerned frown adorning your face, along with a look full of sympathy and understanding. Ghost already dreaded the conversation that hadn’t even begun. And he wasn’t even the one reaching out first. Which makes it even more embarrassing.

“Hey, Simon. I have something I want to talk about with you.” You, bless your heart, probably thought something terrible happened in Simon's life when in reality he was just running away from you and his feelings like a whole wildfire was chasing him. The only correlation he could think of is dumb teenagers, which is…remotely fitting with his recent behavior. “I’ve noticed you’ve been kind of…avoiding me? Did something happen, or am I just overthinking everything?”

“It’s stupid, really. Nothing you should be worrying yourself about.” Ghost blurts out before he can even think. Great, now he can only tell you the whole truth, without the options to back out or lie. But it was truly so unusual for him because Simon never expected to get attached to a nickname and to you.

“Well, let’s hear you out. I won’t judge.” Again, with your perfect reassuring smile and your calming presence. Simon lets out a deep sigh, his throat itching from what is about to ensue. He knew he was going to embarrass himself, but he just couldn’t bring himself to lie. Which would’ve been so much easier, instead of baring his true feelings in front of you.

“Well, your nickname for me…You know what I’m talking about.” Simon’s tone is deep and gruff as he tries to conceal that uncertainty in his voice. You appear to be listening attentively, your eyes trained on him, head slightly tilted to the side, which makes his heart melt. You give him a confident nod at the mention of the nickname, and Ghost continues. “I want you to call only me like that. And I mean, only me” He can see your eyebrow rising, your expression more teasing than questioning. There we go, now you’re going to mock him or laugh at him. Just perfect.

“Sure thing, big guy.” A shudder runs down Simon’s spine from your words, a sweet, saccharine feeling immediately blossoming in his chest. Oh, he had no words to describe how hard he missed it. All his worries lifted immediately. You didn’t find it weird. In fact, from what Ghost could tell by your satisfied expression, it was quite the opposite of the reaction Simon initially expected. Which was extremely relieving. He would hate to lose your intriguing relationship to the miscommunication of his own making. “Could’ve just said that you wanted it reserved just for you.”

Oh, it wasn’t just the nickname that did it to him. But it’s a bit too early to tell you that.

check out my masterlist for more fics or send me a request/comment!

[piekometre]

you're so pretty, it hurts

( reo mikage )

"i want to die" reo whined into his pillow as he laid flat on his bed.

"you said that already..." his best friend nodded mindlessly, his eyes not leaving the screen of his phone.

reo lifted his head from his pillow, eyeing the phone he had thrown all the way across his bedroom, after sending the text to the girl of his dream.

"you don't get it, nagi!" the purple haired athlete sighed dreamily as he turned on his back to look at the ceiling, "she's just so pretty- and so funny, and the way she smiles makes me-"

"she's out of your league."

reo sat up, glaring at his friend. he grabbed one of the pillow next to him throwing it at his friend's face, "thank you for your support."

"just saying..." he mumbled tossing the pillow back at the young heir, his eyes leaving his phone where a big 'victory' flashed, "she's the prettiest girl in the school and you... well you're you..."

'ding!'

his phone rang before he could think of a good come back- oh my god! she replied- she replied- she replied- okokok be cool be cool be cool-

reo mikage nearly jumped to his phone, laying flat on his stomach when he opened it.

'(y/n) ❤️ sent a message'

"she replied- oh my god, nagi! she replied!" reo squealed like a little girl kicking his feat in the air, he shook his head a little suppressing the big smile on his face, "okay, okay- be cool, reo- be cool"

he opened his phone and directly went to see what you had texted him.

(y/n) ❤️: hey, reo! what's up?

"she said 'hey, reo! what's up?' what do i say, nagi!?" reo frantically asked the lazy boy beside him.

"how about 'nothing much and you?'" nagi sarcastically replied, clearly not understanding why reo was so happy for a simple, basic greeting.

the purple haired athlete sent a look at his friend, "you see, that's why you're single." His eyes went back to his phone, moving his thumbs around the screen, trying to find the right words to respond to you.

reo <3: i was just wondering if you were free tomorrow night? there's a new restaurant that opened downtown, and i wanted to test it out with you...

"there's a new restaurant downtown?" nagi asked him as he read the text reo sent to you.

reo slammed his phone on the ground, sitting up, leaning his back on his desk, "no... but she told me that she never has the time to go downtown, soooo she'll never know."

(y/n) ❤️: i'd love to! do you want me to call to make a reservation?

reo <3: sweet! no need tho, i'll call them and i'll pick you up around 6h

nagi raised a brow as he watched reo jump around the room, repeating over and over again that you had accepted to go on a date, "you're such a hassle- stop acting like a little girl and call that new restaurant."

"of course- yeah- thanks for the reminder-" reo quickly dialled number of the restaurant, "yes, hi... i'm calling to reserve the restaurant for tomorrow."

"i'm sorry sir... did you mean that you'd like to reserve a table?"

"no, i said the restaurant, under the name of reo mikage"

the lazy athlete rolled his eyes at the young heir's words, opening his phone before going to see his messages, he searched in his past conversations (3 conversations) and clicked on the person he wanted to text to.

nagi ;3: he just booked the entire restaurant for you... just saying so you can mentally prepare yourself

reo's girl: oh...

[piekometre]

𝕱𝖔𝖗 𝖞𝖔𝖚, 𝖆𝖓𝖞𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌.

Sae Itoshi x reader (may be OOC, i tried) Fluff, Romance GN pronouns “Really?” “Yes. Anything for you.”

⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙

"You sure? I don't want to get in trouble at all with the team," you stated, worried because the soccer team was well known to have ruthless players and often had a penchant for trouble. You, on the other hand, were somewhat a do-gooder, and yet here you are asking a member of the soccer team if you could stay in the gym to skip mathematics class.

The boy was none other than your childhood friend, Itoshi Sae. You both grew close that one summer, when it was you, him, and his younger brother just spending time in the playground, taking turns to kick a ball. Occasionally, you guys stopped to buy ice cream as a snack.

"Of course it's fine. don't worry." He reassures you, even offering you his jacket so you could feel even more comfortable. the night before you were ranting to him about how unbearable class had become, especially with the teacher jumping straight into a new topic when the previous one was already a struggle. He feels bad for you, so as a result, he agreed to let you into the gym; he also agreed that none of the other team members would snitch on you—partially because the others don't care about that sort of stuff; they're the kind of people who just go all out when it comes to sports.

And so there you were, in the gym, just resting. Sometimes you'd peek out the gap in the door and catch a glimpse of Sae on the field, dribbling past other players. A match was coming up, so you understand why everyone was so insistent on training.

"It must be fun." you think to yourself, your phone in your clutches to help pass the time.

As the practice match continued, you found yourself staring at the boy as he played. Since when did he look so good? You think back to the times you both had, never really noticing him that much. Sure, he was your friend, and that's probably why he's nice, right?

Isn't that why all your classmates seem to swoon when they catch him in the corridor? but he always seemed distant to them and much more approachable when it came to you. But that's just you, right? There's no way that meant anything; you're grateful to have even become friends in the first place.

The longer you watch him play, the more your mind kind of decides there is a need for action. You absentmindedly grasped your phone and snapped a picture of him on the field, focusing on scoring for his team. You instantly put your phone in your pocket and mindlessly stared at the ceiling, waiting for the bell to ring.

And not long after, it did. The bell rang, and students came bursting into the hallway, crowding outside. You waited there in the gym to hand back his jacket (and maybe pay him a compliment for his generosity and his skills). Little did you know he was already hatching a plan to get his oblivious childhood friend to fall for him—just as he had for them.

-`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´-

Lunchtime came around, and you still sat there, wondering how long it would take him to come back. You understood that he was probably changing, but no one would ever take that long.

You took out your phone only to see that a text message notification filled the screen.

'Can you come to the field?'

'Please, it's urgent.'

And with that, you left the gym, holding his jacket in one hand while you practically sprinted to the field. You were already worried about what had happened because it's unlike him to ever stress urgency.

You arrived at the scene with him on the bench; he was sweating and didn't look at you when you came onto the field. He didn't even hear you calling his name from afar.

And with that, you left the gym, holding his jacket in one hand while you practically sprinted to the field. You were already worried about what had happened because it's unlike him to ever stress urgency.

You arrived at the scene with him on the bench; he was sweating and didn't look at you when you came onto the field. He didn't even hear you calling his name from afar. It's all because he was planning the very next steps carefully.

You approached him, and that's when it happened. You felt your arm being pulled by him, and you found yourself embraced in a hug. You thought he was just messing around. When he pulled back, you noticed that there was something in his hand. He showed you a piece of paper.

"Well, what is it that's so urgent?" you ask.

"Just read it."

Time stopped as you looked at the paper while he whispered the contents of his heart to you. It was direct, like him. It was heartfelt, like him. and it was open for anything, like him. You had him wrapped around your finger since the day you first met him, and yet you never noticed how he would steal glances, how he'd do anything in his power for you, and how he would take time just to listen and comfort you whenever you needed him to.

You were in love, but in a way you've never been in love before. No other time in your life has you felt so wanted and special.

For him, you were everything.

And for you,  he’ll give you anything.

-`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´-

[piekometre]

𝔯𝔢𝔢𝔩𝔰

Ft. Shidou ryusei Headcanon ====> i love this guy so so much

He definitely scrolls through social media, be it twitter, tiktok, instagram, youtube-everything- on a daily basis to keep his cursed images and videos in stock. Amongst the thousands of inexplicably grotesque and questionable pictures though is something that reveals his much softer side (and god forbids anyone else sees it). In his phone there is a special album, locked with a password, which contains videos and pictures of you. He keeps every single one of them, it could be blurry and poorly taken but he’d treasure it til the end of his life, fiercely guarding it and not letting anybody see it. (He’d only ever let you see it and it's for the sake of poking fun at you; lovingly though). 

He loves the fact you would protest and demand he delete those pictures, claiming they are just ‘wasting his storage”. He calls them excuses so his phone’s storage is always running low- from the cursed memes to the entire gallery of your pictures. 

It’s not uncommon to see him giggling at his phone but it's the rare moments that you see his smile turns into a softer and more affectionate one, the kind where he just sorts of melts into pure adoration, like when he talks to you and looks into your eyes, taking in every single detail of your being. It gets overwhelming, sure, but you can’t deny how it makes you feel so wanted and adored, especially when he’s only like this to you. A special privilege he’d always give you no matter what. 

[piekometre]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ 𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔯 𝔠𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔶 ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Multiple blue lock characters

Ft. Isagi Yoichi, Alexis Ness, Chigiri Hyoma, Bachira Meguru, Mikage Reo

They give you a jar of candy and invite you out to stargaze

It’s a Friday when you receive a jar of delicious looking star candy as a Spring gift with a note that tells you to meet the sender on the rooftop.

What races through your head? Can the words also race through your head and leave a lasting mark on your heart?

“Let's enjoy the beautiful sparkles!” read the note attached on a cute pink sheet of paper.

The poppy, cheerful colors ignite and light up the sky, it contemplates the night sky well. You smile and tuck the candy into your bag, eagerly waiting for the day to be over.

It was time!

It truly is a wonderful sight, perfect for the two of you tonight. He had planned this for a while, he wanted Spring to be the best season for the both of you.

And my, what a way to end the day!

But to be honest, there's something far more eye-catching. To him there are always more irresistible things.

Can you keep a secret?

He thinks... He thinks that you are the most beautiful star shining in the sky.

Your smile is sweeter than the contents of the candy jar. 

“I'd pick you over star candy anyday.” he whispers as he leans his head on your shoulder, the both of you basking in the moon’s gentle rays as the wind gently wafts past the both of you. Truly a breathtaking and precious moment.

[piekometre]

some what if and a passing humor.

characters: isagi, chigiri, sae, shidou, aiku, kaiser.

notes: the amount of time and fun i spend on this is something. writing aiku and shidou for the first time feels funny. nonetheless, i hope i get everyone okay. warning: yeah the question is 'what if we ever broke up' like that song ; a fluff, some more comedic than others ; shidou is shidou, but still a fluff; minor swearing.

you truly didn’t meant anything by it. dare you say, it even actually came from a place of fondness, actually. you watched your boyfriend on your side and thought, “ah, I might not be able to live without him anymore.”

how serious that statement was—you didn’t really want to examine it when the atmosphere was this light. that was probably why without much rhyme or reason, you asked him, “hey, what if i ever break up with you?”

isagi

yoichi’s first response to that was chocking on his bottled mineral water in a manner that was less handsome and more comical. you immediately jolted towards him and patted his back as he hacked out rough coughs. it took sometime for it to calm down, but even afterwards panic was still clearly swirling in his eyes.

gone was the calculative striker and the crybaby yocchan who hadn’t emerge since he was 4 nearly made a come back. with the two of you still pressed side by side on the sofa, yoichi immediately asked you why in the world are you asking that. he didn’t say it, but anyone with half a brain would figure out that his brain was working overtime at the moment. did he do something? did he forget something? did he fuck up something?

the moment you answered it was a mere passing thought of what if and assured him that you really had no intention of doing that for anytime soon—which in total took almost 10 minutes—it was after all that yoichi could finally breath normally. with an exhaustion that he only experienced after a full 90 minutes of intense match, yoichi slouched against the sofa. he genuinely looked like he was so stressed he would cry and you seriously felt bad. as an apology, you hugged him and leaned his head against your shoulder.

“I’m okay. It’s just…” Yoichi tried to assure you, before pausing for a moment and heaved out a heavy sigh. Burying his head on your shoulder as he wrapped his hands tighter around you, he admitted, “…actually, yeah, I totally panicked just then.”

“I’m seriously sorry. Just forget it, okay? It’s just a question after all,” you said again, combing through his locks in attempt to cheer him up.

Yoichi laughed pitifully. He shifted for a few times, trying to find a more comfortable position to cuddle you. As he attempted the impromptu cuddle session, Yoichi finally continued, “…just a question, yeah?”

When you nodded and the two of you settled with you laying on his chest, your legs intertwining with each other’s, Yoichi finally gave you an answer, full of determination and sincerity. “Definitely will try to win you back. I’m not giving up on you so easily. I know in a way that’s pretty selfish but, yeah, I will definitely make you happy—but, seriously, don’t try to do that!” Yoichi insisted as you laughed at the lame ending of his bold proclamation.

chigiri

hyoma looked so offended you genuinely thought he would throw the hairdryer in his hand to your face. thankfully and unsurprisingly, he didn’t. instead, he put it down with a terrifying calmness and suddenly there was a hyoma face in front of you with an intense stare trained on you. if this was a drama, it would be romantic, maybe, but honestly in reality it felt like having a thug was threatening you.

you nervously supplied that it was just a question and pushed his face away with a finger on his nose. hyoma’s glare didn’t falter even as he distanced his face away from you. with sharp gaze still staring straight at you, hyoma demanded what did you mean by just a question. yet again, you noted how this felt like entering a duel with an angry big cat—it was terrifying. then you saw how his eyes sparkled differently under the bedroom light and it hit you that you might had done a mistake.

panicking, you threw yourself towards him and hugged him as tightly as you could, blurting out an apology. hyoma didn’t move for another few seconds, his hands slowly sneaking up crawling up from your hips before it rest snugly, wrapped around your waist. he took your face in his hands, wordlessly asking for you to look at him. it was then you saw how his face rested in a pissed pout resembling an angry child.

“Don’t joke like that again. The hell is that question for?” Hyoma asked with a harsh tone, the polar opposite to the hands that gently pinched your cheeks.

“Sowry, Hwoma,” you apologized all whilst accepting his bullying. Hyoma’s expression didn’t budge, conflicts written all over his face.

“I seriously will be pissed if we break up, by the way. So don’t you dare,” he added petulantly. “I said that I promise that I will give you the best of everything. If you just suddenly walked away—”

You smiled at his words, feeling his affection through his coarse wordings and weak stretches on your cheeks. Seeing your smile, Hyoma pushed his forehead against yours again, “I’m serious. Ugh. Seriously, you piss me off sometimes. I will step on your feet next time you pull this sort of shit again.”

sae

sae made a face that reminded you of cats in videos when they got a cheese thrown into their face. and it stayed like that for around ten seconds. eyes wide, mouth in a straight line, while horror and shock etched itself there. then, he recovered and the sour face he made immediately made you wonder if maybe it was time to apologize already.

but before you could say anything, sae made a bitch face that was somehow both pissed off and taunting. it was pretty amazing to see in action, while genuinely pissing off and scarring you off at the same time. his position didn’t even change—his head was still propped with one hand while his legs were still propped up on your lap as if he was some expensive pet who owned the place—and he still stayed silent, yet somehow you knew he was calling you names no proper human should probably ever say. especially to their partner. but, then again, sae indeed sometimes came up with some of the weirdest things through his wording alone.

it took you a few minutes to crack before you finally looked away. without seeing, you knew sae’s eyes just stared at you even flatter—which was amazing, considering how flat his usual stare already was. then another minute passed, you remembered how stubborn sae could get when you realized that the stare you refused to meet won’t wane just like how his legs suddenly were immovable boulders on your thighs. Thankfully and unfortunately, sae decided that your spirit was damaged enough for him to finally speak.

“That joke was shitass,” Sae commented, clearly holding back. You genuinely wondered if these last few minutes were spent by him trying to tame his unholy, uncultured wild words into simply ‘shitass’.

You took a glance towards him, meeting his gaze from the corner of your eyes. You gulped apologetically, “…I’m sorry.”

“Also, wouldn’t it be you who would probably do something if we break up?” Sae asked in a tone most people used to point something out. You wanted to rebut him, saying that it was not an answer. But taking into consideration how his personality is and how this staring contest seemed to be tearing your morale into shreds, you simply nodded weakly with a swallowed pathetic whimper of a bullied koi fish in a cat mouth.

And turned out, it still wasn’t enough and Sae’s silent stare was still flat enough to make you want to cry. But before you could wail like a child for real, he suddenly sighed and got up. Then a hand was in front of you, his palm inviting you to take it, “We will walk around for a bit. I need some air.”

shidou

you really didn’t know what you expect when ryusei walked wordlessly towards the nightstand and took out four suspicious little packs. you definitely did felt torn between finally ending him there and then or just smile in the way possums pretend to die. put it simply, suddenly maybe breaking up with him didn’t sound like a terrible idea. maybe he really was after your body only.

then, when you tiredly voiced these outs, ryusei was suddenly wrapped around you like a koala baby with bright eyes as he whined to you about how you shouldn’t say that. in his very shidou ryusei way, where words like explosions and such were used. by the time he said ‘firework hottie’—or something—you decided to tune him out, despite your reluctant amusement, and just quietly explained that it was a joke.

turned out, that was a trigger was him to immediately switched out his cuter side, let you go, and went back to his usual countenance. the packs returned to your sight once again and you threw a pillow to his face. ryusei laughed and while he didn’t avoid said pillow, he did indeed came back with a revenge through a pair of warms wrapped around your waist. this time, you half expected him to continue on laughing whilst trying to push the protection to your hand, but a few seconds passed and his expression grew somber.

“But, then doesn’t it mean it wasn’t mean to be? In case things did ended up boring between both of us,” Ryusei gestured between the two of you with a lax flair that was only accentuated by him lying on his side. “Though, I can just make it explode between the two of us again, you get it?”

You stayed silent for a minute. You considered translating his words in your brain, before deciding not today, “No. I don’t.”

Ryusei sighed, before nuzzling his face to your stomach, “Gee—you are boring sometimes, Babe—”

With no hesitation you immediately trashed around and tried to get him off you. Ryusei didn’t budge, but not without getting a knee straight to his face. Still, it didn’t stopped him from wrestling to both stop you and get you lying down beside him, snickering somehow, “Ow—Come on, I know you get me! Like, can’t you feel it between us? This sort of thing won’t go down that easily. If it did, either you and me will spark it back on like nothing happened and you know it, right? My pleasure to do it as many time as you want though.”

aiku

in a manner that only a man with at least three pages long of shitty dating and commitment issue history could do, oliver let out a rueful chuckle. he leaned back against his seat and looked up without much change in his expression. it was at this moment you were reminded of the fact that your boyfriend that by, probably, miraculous feats decided to put his commitment in you, was one mysterious motherfucker who hides many things behind easy smiles and friendly mannerism.

you debated whether you should push him to answer you or just laugh the question off as a thoughtless impulsive thought being voiced out. though, before you decided on anything, oliver beat you to it with a teasing joke of his own. without any gravity in it, he mused out loud if this was the day you finally decided that he is a man unworthy of someone like you.

you replied back that it would only be possible if he was unserious like any of his previous relationship. then, that joke died down at the last syllable when you saw how he just smiled at you, not quipping out any other jokes. for a moment, you froze and genuinely thought that you misunderstood the nature of your relationship. thankfully, oliver seemed to catch whatever your face made and smile widely as he stood up, walking over to your seat with just a few strides.

“Then,” Oliver began, with a tone of finality. “I suppose that’s not happening anytime soon, hm?”

You, who just nearly arrived on a conclusion that would made this exchange not funny and light, still froze in your seat. It was only after Oliver crouched down before you, resting his hands on your knees that you could blink again, “…I…uh.”

Oliver, still with many sides you would have to discover, stared at you looked at you with a gaze you couldn’t exactly comprehend. His voice was still smooth and his, as he said, “Though, just in case you need a reference, don’t do that, ‘kay?”

It wasn’t long, as it only lasted for a mere second. Yet, undeniably, Oliver made a face that was soft, odd, and unfamiliar. It felt like a new thing—one that he trusted to you since some times ago, yet you realized just now. In a way, describing it was a bit impossible, but seeing it felt like an answer to everything all of sudden. Then, time moved on and a grin that was more usual with his rhythm showed up again, as crooked as how it usually is, “Like, come on, you have to admit I’m a catch, right? Plus, look at us—we are totally some teenagers’ dream love story right now. Me who—yeah, yeah, ouch. I won’t continue, no need to pull my hair—ha ha!”

kaiser

michael’s eyebrows seemed to be confused between furrowing out of irritation or raising up to his wide ass forehead out of amusement. but as the two you continued walking amidst the crowd, his lips decided it for him and curved itself into a smug smirk that was the textbook definition of annoying. in a heartbeat, you regretted asking him.

without stopping neither his nor your steps, michael brought his face closer to you with a grin that grew softer and somehow more teasing in the process. and while his visual was pleasing, the moment he launched into a spiel of how you would never be able to leave someone of his caliber. that if anything you would be the one left behind.

when your face soured at his wording, an almost uncatchable flash of seriousness entered his tone. he raised an eyebrow at you one last time, before tightening his finger around yours and pulled you closer to his side slowly. in a tone that was too prideful and composed, as though he didn’t just try to get a rise out of you, michael muttered out a quick comment on how it got more crowded. you noticed while it did, it wasn’t by much that it warranted the two of you being glued side by side. whilst you decided to not point it out, you nudged at him to just answer your random question.

Once again, Michael scoffed, his attention landing on you through his glance, “Again? Didn’t I say that if anything—”

“I heard you the first time. I just want to hear your answer,” you cut him off simply, not taking the bait this time.

Michael turned to stare at your face intensely at that. It was a bit unnerving, with how terrifying his eyes could get, but out of trust on his spatial awareness to get the two of you out of crashes and in the name of curiosity for a trivial question—you stared back. “…seriously? You really are something sometimes.” And as the two of you neared the ending of the crowded sidewalk, Michael finally relented and answered with a heavy sigh.

“As if I would let you leave that easily,” Michael turned his gaze back to the front as the two of you continued to walk. Through his bangs, you couldn’t quite catch his expression. The tone he was using did made you feel bad though. As he continued to talk, you made a note to also firmly hold his hands and do something nice for him later. “I will show you how fucking shit your decision was and then you will crawl back to me. I will make fun of you and get you back if you are entertaining enough. There you go, my answer. Now, will you just act cute and say sweeter stuff?”

[piekometre]

pouring everything into bllk bc its my hyperfixation rn

𝖕𝖍𝖔𝖙𝖔𝖘 𝖌𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖊𝖗𝖞

ft. Rin Itoshi

He looks at you all annoyed and deadpanned, the way you’re just giggling and smiling to yourself after taking countless pictures of random things; it could be mirror selfies, photos of cool plants you see, the sky in all its wonderful colours and even ugly pictures of him. He scolds you and lectures you about wasting his phone storage and threatens to delete all of them.

That’s what’s got you giggling- you know he’d never do that; and you’re right. He loves you way too much to do that. All he says are just empty threats and he’d never admit but he finds this habit of yours way too adorable. By the end of the day he keeps the pictures, looks through them when he feels lonely or stressed- just seeing your pictures makes him smile so warmly. 

He holds his phone dear to himself, the wallpapers are just pictures of you both and he does not let anyone else see or know this. 

(you don’t even find out until one day he falls asleep and his notification for an even tomorrow pings and lights up his phone, causing you to see the lock screen. And no, he does not escape your teasing the next day.)