#fiyero tigelaar x gn!reader
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teddy06writes · 3 days ago
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Take Care of You
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Fiyero Tigelaar x gn!reader
Prompt(s): "I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time. I don’t need your help, and I definitely don’t need your pity. Fuck off.” / "You don’t have to go through this alone. I’m right here for you if you’ll just let me in.”
Trigger Warnings: Swearing, general descriptions of sickness, stress, something in readers background makes them not want to depend on people, out of character fiyero? (idk man I've only seen the movie and read a lot of gilyeraba fics}
Summary: You and Fiyero have been going out for a few weeks, but you're still hesitant to let yourself get too near him. When you come down with the mysterious illness that's been working its way through Shiz, Fiyero's determined to nurse you through it, despite your reservations.
The harder you tried to focus on the words before you, the more your head swam. The library was quiet, and the lights were dim, so there shouldn't have been any chances of your headache getting worse. Yet pain still thundered at your temples.
Of course, after dodging this sickness for weeks, you caught it just in time for Dr. Dillamond to assign a very important project. It was just your luck.
You dropped your pen to the side, letting your head drop down onto your arms, heaving in a deep breath. No matter what you took or how much you tried to shake it, you could lose the bone tiredness that had been plaguing you for days now.
"You alright, darling? How long have you been holed up in here for?"
You nearly jumped out of your skin at the sound of Fiyero's voice, dragging your head up so quickly you swore you saw spots, "Uh-"
"Woah, hey," He quickly sat down in the chair next to you, reaching out like he needed to steady you, "What's going on?"
You blinked, trying to clear your vision, "Sorry- sorry, I'm just- tired."
"No need to apologize, darling. Are you sure you're alright?"
Clearing your throat, you nodded, "Yeah, I'm fine. Just have a bit of a headache."
Fiyero frowned, glancing at the textbook in front of you, "Well how long have you been working? Maybe it's time for a break."
"Only an hour. I'm fine."
He watched you with concern as you turned back to your work. You could practically feel him watching you, surely taking stock of the dark bags under your eyes, the unusual paleness of your skin, the way you suddenly couldn't seem to warm up.
"Have you taken medicine-"
"Yes. I do know how to take care of myself, Fiyero." There's a sharpness to your voice even you don't expect.
Even out of the corner of your eye you can see him frown, "I know that, darling, I know. You just don't look too good."
You let out a sigh, starting turn toward him again, "Fiyero-"
Before you could stop him, he was reaching out to press the back of his hand to your forehead, his frown deepening, "Darling, your burning up, what on earth are you doing studying?"
"The new assignment from Dr. Dillamond-"
"Isn't due for a week and a half! I mean honestly- Darling you should be resting-"
You stood up abruptly, even as it made stars dance in your vision, "I've been taking care of myself for a long time. I don't need your help, and I certainly don't need your pity, so please, fuck off."
Fiyero had stood and managed to catch your wrist before you could even make it three steps away, pulling you to turn back to him with a strange, desperate look on his face, "Who said this was pity?"
"Fiyero--"
"Who said this was pity?" He repeated, letting go of your wrist only to cup your cheek, his voice dropping, "I happen to genuinely care about your wellbeing, because believe it or not, I care about you, darling."
You closed your eyes for a long moment, trying desperately to turn away, "Fiyero..."
"You don't have to go through this, or anything else alone. Not anymore, not while I'm here," His hand drifted back to the back of your neck, gently turning your face back to him, "I'm right here if you'll just let me in."
Just like that, something in you seemed to break, and you were suddenly trying to blink away tears.
"Oh- Darling-"
"I'm sorry- I'm sorry-"
Fiyero began gently wiping away he few tears that had escaped and were trailing down your cheeks, "Hey, hey, don't apologize..."
"I'm just so tired- I can't shake this no matter what I do."
"Well, forcing yourself to be out and about certainly isn't helping," Fiyero turned, beginning to gather up your books and tuck everything away into your bag, "Come on, let's get you back to your dorm so you can get some rest."
When he took your hand, you didn't fight it, instead allowing yourself to be led along, out of the library. Outside, the cool air only seemed to worsen your chill, and Fiyero was quick to shrug off his jacket, tucking it around your shoulders.
The walk back to the dorms felt twice as long as your original journey to the library had taken, but eventually, you'd made it. Fiyero had coaxed you to lie down, and after all but forcing you to take another dose of medicine, tucked you into bed as if it were his life's mission.
You managed to catch hold of his hand as he turned to leave, whispering hoarsely, "Thank you, 'yero."
"Of course, darling," He smiled softly, leaning in to press a quick kiss to your forehead, "I'll come by and check on you in the morning, yeah?"
But the only response he got was the sound of your soft snores. Chuckling to himself, Fiyero pressed another kiss to your forehead, before backing out of your room.
~~~
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auroracalisto · 1 month ago
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with all the power in oz
movie!fiyero x gn!reader, 2.2k words summary: the reader, rather anxious and studious, finds their self head-over-heels with none other than fiyero, supposed boyfriend to galinda upland. to placate this, they somewhat agree to meet him at the ozdust ballroom. a/n: YOU pronouns are used to address the reader, but there is no usage of y/n. just watched the movie today. tried to find a fic, couldn't. here I am writing one instead. reader worries a lot. so me. you're welcome. also, I'm going into this blind. I have unfortunately never seen the actual musical (downsides to living in the middle of nowhere) so I'm only going off based on wikis and the movie. it should be gn as I read through it like... five different times, but please let me know if I missed something!
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Breathtaking. That's what he was. But could you truly refer to a man like him as breathtaking?
The very features that graced his face were absolutely mesmerizing, and you felt like a fool watching him at times. How could you not? He seemed so full of life, so full of... well, not a care in the world, really. It was as if he brushed everything off of his shoulders without hesitation.
You could only wished you were the same way.
No cares, no worries. How lovely that would have been.
No, you hold onto the things that happen to you as if you have no other way to live. You hold grudges, you think over things that happened years ago that no one could possibly remember.
For someone who wished to be a sorcerer, you had a hard time simply letting things go. Your emotions often got the better of you, even when you knew better. Even when you wished it could be the opposite. But perhaps that was the way of the world.
Not a man in Oz could tell you otherwise.
Books in hands, you crossed the path to your dormitory, brows cinched together in mild concentration.
You had a project in your history class, and an extensive paper to complete on the study of mathematics—of all the things you could have had, a paper in mathematics. You'd rather perform magic in front of the entire student body, but you couldn't.
As you walked, you heard your name come from behind you. Eyes flicker back, a soft frown on your lips. You see him—Fiyero. The one fool you meant to avoid with all the gumption within you.
You'd melt just being near him.
"Fiyero," you softly greet.
He gave you a charming smile, coming up to walk with you. "Heading back already?" he asked.
"I am."
"Working on the project, hm? We could work on it together if you'd like. I'm sure our minds could do wonders," he said, a playful wink coming from him.
"I'm fine," you simply said.
He blinked slowly, but his smile never wavered. "Come now," he said, your name leaving his lips rather sweetly. "Surely you're not going to spend the rest of your evening alone. Why don't you come to Ozdust tonight?"
You looked back at him, frowning. "Ozdust. Me. I don't think so, Fiyero."
"And why not? I'm sure you'd be as dashing as ever."
You stopped in your steps, eyes searching his for but a moment. "Dashing. Are you in earnest, Fiyero?"
"Yes," he said, smiling.
"And what of Galinda? You'll be with her. Why invite me?"
"She doesn't need to know. It's not her business," he said. "Besides, she will be busy with Elphaba. I'd much rather spend time with you."
"And I think you're just pulling my leg," you said defensively. You crossed your arms over your chest, careful to keep your books close.
"Pulling your leg? I haven't even touched you," he said, a cheeky grin on his lips. "Come now, don't play coy. You should come."
"And if I do?"
"Then I'll be quite happy."
You rolled your eyes and went to walk away.
A hand wrapped around your bicep, and you paused, glancing over your shoulder at him.
His eyes widened a bit and he dropped his hand, albeit hesitantly. Perhaps he didn't think he would actually reach out to you. He cleared his throat.
"I really would like you to be there. You'll have the time of your life."
"The time of my life," you repeated. "I don't think you realize how much I dread parties."
"Have you ever been to one?"
"No."
"Then how do you know you dread them?"
"I just know," you said. "I feel it in my bones. I know going will just get on my nerves."
He scoffed, placing his hands on his hips. "I think you're foolish for that," he said. "Come on. What are you losing? A couple hours to work on a project that you know you could finish in a morning session? You'll be fine. Come to the Ozdust tonight. I'll show you a good time."
You clenched your jaw. "I don't want—"
"—I would like you to be there. That is all. I won't ask again." He gave you another small smile before he looked away. "I'll see you around. Perhaps tonight?"
You stared him down. He would like to see you there? Was he being honest? And what of Galinda? Would he be going behind her back? Wasn't he madly in love with her, or something? Or was it the other way around?
He said your name once more, and you looked up at him, letting out a soft sigh.
"Right. Perhaps tonight," you softly said.
The smile on his lips was rather... hopeful than anything else. There wasn't anything smarmy by it. He seemed as genuine as the glint in his eye—the one he used when he spoke with anyone he trusted. At least, you hoped so.
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The night came quickly as you finished up your outfit—one you would hope you didn't look completely foolish in. The color you chose seemed to fit well with almost anything, but you still worried. You always worried about something.
Time was of the essence. You weren't even supposed to leave Shiz University's campus, but here you were, sneaking like some scoundrel.
Well, perhaps you were, listening to the requests of a man who already had a girlfriend—a fantastically beautiful one at that.
But you paid no mind. You did what you could, and soon, you found yourself walking down the steps of the Ozdust Ballroom.
Never had you been in a place like this. It was almost... breathtaking, had it not been for the overpowering smells of perfume and some kind of drink wafting from the bar. Your eyes flitted from patron to patron until you finally spotted him—Fiyero.
He looked just as handsome as ever.
Good Oz, what in the world were you doing? This was foolish.
You took a step back, staring at Fiyero for a moment as he spoke with another man, drink in hand. You needed to leave. This was ridiculous. You were ridiculous! Never in a thousand years would you ever imagine yourself to do such a thing—
"You made it!"
Fiyero's voice rang out above the music.
You look to him, eyebrows furrowed in frustration. Because of course he saw you as soon as you had decided to leave.
Fiyero smiled and made his way to you, taking your hands in his, drink left with the confused man behind him. Surely he didn't just up and leave in the middle of his conversation.
You part your lips and go to speak, but to your dismay, Fiyero is instant.
"I was afraid you had changed your mind," he said. "You look ravishing, darling."
Your eyes widened. Ravishing? You'd been called many things in your life, but never ravishing.
"Galinda couldn't make it?" you asked.
"Wha—no, she couldn't. But what of it? I didn't ask her to the Ozdust, I asked you. I'm glad to see your face."
Warmth blossomed in your cheeks as you watched him. "Fiyero, please... I shouldn't be here."
"Oh, nonsense," he said, grinning all the while. "Come. Dance with me."
"But I don't—"
"—do not say you don't dance. I can teach you."
"Teach me?"
"It's as easy as breathing," he said.
"For you, maybe, but not for—"
"—humor me," he said, smiling.
You pursed your lips. Of course he had to give you that charming smile and the sweet bat of his eyelashes.
"I do not dance," you repeated.
"I think I will be the judge of that."
He grabbed your hands once more and pulled you out into the ballroom floor, smiling all the while.
"You'll be a natural. I can just see it."
"I feel like if I were a natural, you wouldn't have to teach me," you said, gasping as he pulled you close to his chest. His face was dangerously close to yours, his eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips.
"You know," he began, eyes flickering back to your eyes. "We all start somewhere, do we not? You should know that better than anyone."
"What? What does that—"
He interrupted you by spinning you by your arm, back into his embrace. The music was rather ambient, not quite one for dancing so enthusiastically, but Fiyero embraced it. Hand to your hand, face close to your face.
"See? A natural."
"You merely spun me around, Fiyero. Do not be foolish."
"You could have fell flat on your face," he said, a boyish grin evident on his lips.
"Stop looking at me like that," you defiantly said. "You are far too close to me for my liking."
"Oh, feisty, are we?" he asked, moving his body along to the music and forcing you to go along, too. You nearly stepped on his toes several times. "I do not think there is anything wrong with the way I'm looking at you. You're rather breathtaking, if I may."
Breathtaking. The same way you had described him only hours before. He wasn't a mind reader, was he?
No.
Of course not. That was foolish. He was merely a man. Nothing of great importance—no power within him other than the power he held in every single eyelash as they batted down at you, making you melt over and over again.
"What of Galinda?" you repeated.
"What of her?"
"You shouldn't be calling someone who isn't yours breathtaking. It's quite..."
"There is nothing wrong with admiring the beauty in front of me," he said, your name playfully leaving his tongue. "Look at me. Galinda and I are only friends."
You rolled your eyes. "Do not lie to me."
His eyes widened a bit. "Lie? I do not lie. We are friends and nothing more. Though I do believe she thinks differently..."
"She must," you said, huffing softly.
"But that does not make it true. I have eyes for someone else."
"Eyes for someone else?"
He tilted his head once more. He was rather endearing when he did that.
"Who did I ask to their very first party?" he asked, smiling. "It's quite a feat, isn't it? Afraid you wouldn't show, and then you do, questioning me and everything I stand for, hm?"
Warmth found its way to your cheeks once more. You looked away from him. With the crescendo of the music, Fiyero pulled you closer, fingers lacing with yours. His lips hover dangerously close to yours.
"You know, if you would just give it a chance, perhaps you and I could make some magic of our own."
You let out a curt laugh. "You—oh, good Oz, I hope you never use that line on anyone! Has that worked for you before?"
He gave a cheeky smile. "It seems like it's working on you."
"Absolutely not!"
"Not even a little!"
"No!"
His smile only seemed to grow. "Truly?"
You looked away, swallowing thickly. "I mean... no. Not even a little. Not at all."
"You're lying," he said.
"I am not."
"I do think I know what I'm talking about," he said, leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to the soft skin of your cheek. "Come now," he said. "Stop with the lies."
You looked up at him, a soft huff escaping you.
"Fine. I lied. It may or may not be working. But it's not just because of what you said."
"Oh? Are you saying you like me for more than my suave words?"
"Suave words? Who in Oz said they were suave?"
He just smiled, his eyes flickering to your lips once more. "Do you think instead of just a dance, I could try something more?"
"Try what?"
"I think you know."
You blinked slowly at him, your fingers gently gripping onto his tunic. Your lips part in mild surprise, but you realize that you shouldn't have been. He'd been eyeing you the entire evening.
"Very well," you softly said.
"Wonderful," he replied, and in a swift motion, he pressed his lips to yours. It was short as he pulled back almost as soon as he had kissed you, but it was enough to keep you wanting more.
"Fiyero, that wasn't—"
"—come with me," he softly said, lacing his fingers with yours once more. "Somewhere without so many prying eyes, yes?"
Your answer was almost instant: "Yes."
Fiyero led you back up the staircase, and he didn't look back once at the ballroom.
"Where are we going?" you asked.
"Somewhere where I can see you and only you," he said. "If that's alright."
"Oh," you softly said. "Yes. That's alright."
"Then follow me," he said. "Do you trust me?"
You smiled sincerely for one of the first times in the evening. Did you trust him? What kind of foolish question was that? If you had the chance, you'd do whatever he'd ask of you. You found your answer rather quickly, knowing within yourself that it was far truer than any other statement you had ever uttered.
"With all the power in Oz."
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maysileeewrites · 21 days ago
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🫧 what is this feeling? 🫧
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Fiyero Tigelaar x gn!reader
Synopsis: „Stop calling me that!“ „What - darling?“ || Or: Fiyero suddenly finds himself spending an unusual amount of time in the Shiz library
c.w: enemies to lovers (sort of), tension & bantering, gratuitous use of darling & super cheesy ending; (also most of my Wicked knowledge [you’ll notice that I made up a back story of my own for Fiyero] comes from seeing the movie three days ago, I did see the play in the West End 2 years ago, but I’m not in as deep as I’m with other musicals like Phantom) 
w.c.: 2.5k | masterlist
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Sighing frustratedly, you slammed your textbook shut in annoyance.
Something you usually didn’t do - the slamming the book shut part, that was. 
But then, you also didn’t usually feel this level of frustration after an afternoon spent at the library; at least not over things that weren’t related to your studying. 
Reaching for your book bag, you got up from the table right next to the window facing Shiz’s garden you’d managed to secure earlier this afternoon. 
But what good was a good table, if the atmosphere in the library was so distracting that you couldn’t concentrate on anything? 
Grabbing your books, you glared at the object of your ire. 
Prince Fiyero Tigelaar. 
Most of the other students here at Shiz, especially Galinda, seemed positively obsessed with him, but you happened to share your friend Elphaba‘s opinion about the young prince. 
In your opinion, he was nothing more than a shallow, self-absorbed troublemaker that apparently didn’t concern himself too hard with other people’s wants and needs. Really, couldn’t he have done his strutting around anywhere else instead of the library? 
„What did that poor book do to you?“ 
You flinched, losing your hold on the books in your hand. You’d been so lost in your thoughts, you hadn’t even noticed Fiyero approaching you. 
The books slipped from your grip, and fell to the floor with a loud, clattering sound. You winced, bending down to pick the books back up, but Fiyero had already beaten you to it. 
He’d already gathered three of the four tomes in his hands and, feeling weirdly annoyed at this sudden, new … helpful site to him, you reached for the last book - at the same time as Fiyero did. 
Your hands touched. 
You felt the rough callouses of his fingertips and wondered what he, as a prince could have possibly done in his life that was the reason for this - before trying to remind yourself that you didn’t care. 
Hastily, almost as if you’d been burned, you drew your hand back and got back up. 
„Well, there you go, darling“, Fiyero said, flashing you a surprisingly genuine smile, as he handed you the four books. 
Again, you felt a weird tingling in your fingertips as your hands briefly touched, and, almost defensively, you clutched the books to your chest. 
„I - thank you …“ 
He laughed, the sound surprisingly warm and deep. This wasn’t his typical, obnoxiously loud laugh you’d come to despise during the last few weeks. 
„It’s nothing … still curious what that poor book did to you, though …“ 
„What?“, you asked, frowning. 
He grinned. „That poor-„, suddenly, he leaned in closer towards you - and was it just the used-up library air you’d been breathing in all day that suddenly made you feel slightly dizzy? - eyes fixing on the covers of your textbooks, „history book. Really darling, I wouldn‘t have expected you to treat a book like that.“ 
„You’re one to talk“, you muttered, without thinking. 
„Well, I guess you’re right there, darling.“ 
„Stop calling me that!“, you exclaimed, feeling your cheeks flush. 
He smirked. „What - darling?“ 
You rolled your eyes. „Yes! Now, if you’ll excuse me-„ 
„You’re off to study some more?“, he asked, genuine wonder in his voice. 
Your eyes met, and you immediately looked away from him again. You didn’t like the way his gaze made you feel. There was genuine curiosity in his eyes and his gaze was far too intense for your liking. 
„Yes, because unlike some, I actually care about my education and my future!“, you exclaimed, before turning away from him. 
Fiyero just chuckled. „Trust me darling, you’re missing out on a lot of fun.“ 
You only rolled your eyes at his statement and walked out of the library without looking back at him. 
If you had, you’d have seen him trying to fight off a smile. 
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The next day, your luck was even worse. 
Things started out alright - after classes, you and Elphaba went to the library, managing to secure a table near the garden windows again. Elphaba, however couldn’t stay long, as she had her magic lessons with Madame Morrible in the late afternoon. 
After she left, you managed to catch up on some of your assignments for a while. 
Then, someone sat down right next to you. 
You didn’t need to look up to know who it was. 
„Go away, Fiyero“, you said, not looking up from your textbook. 
Fiyero just laughed. „You’ve really been quite grumpy lately, darling.“ 
„Stop calling-„, you began to say, but stopped. Knowing Fiyero, you commenting on this particularly annoying habit of his would only serve to egg him on. 
„Never mind“, you therefore muttered, turning a page. 
„What are you doing here, though?“ Somehow, the question just slipped out, even though you kept trying to tell yourself that you didn’t care. 
„Studying, of course“, Fiyero replied, his smirk widening even more when you turned to look at him, raising your eyebrows.
„Really?“, you asked, frowning. 
He just smirked. „Really. I mean, there’s quite a lot to catch up on, isn’t there?“ 
„I can imagine“, you replied, frowning. 
To your great annoyance, Fiyero just smirked again, before taking a textbook out of his bag, opening it and grabbing a notebook and a pen. 
Your eyes widened. Was he actually here to study? 
To your utter surprise, it did seem that way, because during the next few hours, Fiyero was completely engrossed in his textbooks, only looking up from them occasionally to jot something down in his notebook. Even his handwriting surprised you - it wasn’t at all the unintelligible scrawl you’d imagined it to be, but a rather concise, if somewhat over exaggeratedly loopy handwriting. But then again, he was a Prince - elegant handwriting must have been taught to him from a young age, among other etiquettes and niceties, not to mention historical and sociological knowledge. 
Really, it was such a shame that he didn’t seem to care at all about a good education. He’d probably already had all the best opportunities one could only imagine, and now he was here at Shiz, studying at one of the most renowned universities in all of Oz. Not that he seemed to particularly care about that, though. 
It did make you wonder, though. Was he really just the rogue prince who rejected every expectation society imposed upon him, was he really as shallow and self-absorbed as you’d perceived him to be these last few weeks? 
Suddenly, you weren’t so sure anymore. 
You chanced another look over at him, and caught him staring at you. Despite yourself, you felt your cheeks flush, when he grinned at you. 
„If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that I’m distracting you, darling“, he said, grin widening. 
You had the sudden urge to grin back at him, but quickly suppressed it by biting down hard on your lip. And was it just your imagination or did his eyes flicker from your eyes to your lips and back to your eyes again? 
„Every time I think your ego couldn’t possibly get any bigger, you surprise me again“, you muttered. 
He just chuckled. „Well, that’s me, darling - full of surprises.“ 
Right - that. 
„Why - why don’t you care about any of this?“, you asked him, the words slipping out before you’d thought them through. 
When he raised his eyebrows at you in confusion, you quickly hurried on. „You’re here, studying at Shiz University of all places, and yet it seems that classes and studying are just this huge burden for you. You’ve been handed this great opportunity on a silver platter - and yet you’re not making any use out of it!“ 
Fiyero’s smile froze and for a second, his eyes seemed to darken as well. „There’s more to life than just studying and books, you know?“
„Like what?“, you challenged him. 
„Like actually living life, instead of just going through the motions“, he replied quickly. 
You frowned irritatedly. Was that what he thought of you? That you were just going through the motions, like you were some kind of robot, devoid of actually having any feelings. 
You felt your cheeks heat up again, though this time it was out of anger. Standing up, you started stuffing your textbooks into your book bag, glaring at him. 
„Well, excuse me - I have to go, going through the motions, because some of us aren’t privileged enough to get everything in life handed to them on a silver platter.“ 
With that, you walked out of the library rather dramatically, not bothering to look back at him, still seething with frustration. 
How was it that he seemingly always managed to get under your skin so easily? 
And why did you care? 
Why did you care about anything having to do with that stupid, arrogant prince who was too full of himself to form any complex, intelligent thought. 
You didn’t. 
You did not care about Fiyero Tigelaar.  
Not at all. 
But no matter how many times you tried to tell yourself, deep down, you knew that it wasn’t true. You hated to admit it, but just thinking about that moment yesterday when your hands had touched, made your heart beat faster. As did thinking about all the not so subtle glances he’d sent your way this afternoon. 
You sighed, running a hand through your hair in frustration. 
Sweet Oz, what was this feeling? 
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You didn’t see much of Fiyero during the next few days, at least not in the library. You did see him during classes and at meals, but you did your best to keep out of his way. You were ashamed of your outburst at him in the library a few days ago, and if it were anyone else, you’d have already apologized to them. 
As it was, you did feel sorry for your comment, but the feeling was lessened whenever you thought about how he’d insinuated that you were just going through the motions. 
Somehow, that had frustrated you much more than his stupid insistence on him calling you darling - not that he’d done that since that day in the library. In fact, you’d hardly spoken to each other at all, other than a few off-handed comments, made in passing. 
You could tell that your friend Elphaba was already becoming somewhat frustrated with the situation, because you’d forced her to change directions, walking through empty hallways and taking a detour on the way to class just to avoid having to walk past Fiyero more than once. 
You were starting to feel rather frustrated yourself, but still - you weren’t about to be the one to take the first step. 
And anyway, it wasn’t like you cared much about Fiyero and whether your comment had hurt him. 
Or so you kept trying to tell yourself. 
Frustrated, you turned a page in your textbook, trying to concentrate on your studies. Today, you weren’t in the library, but rather in Shiz’s magnificent garden. You were sat on a bench under a willow tree, a field of red tulips right next to you. 
But no matter how serenely beautiful the atmosphere around you, you were unable to concentrate on your textbook. 
„I thought I might find you here.“ 
Your heart started beating faster and you didn’t have to look up to know who the voice belonged to. 
„Fiyero …“, you said, closing your book shut and getting up rather awkwardly from your bench. 
Fiyero’s eyes found yours and he smiled nervously. 
Wait - nervously? Fiyero wasn’t one to be nervous - at least you’d never perceived him to be so. 
„I - I wanted to apologize … I didn’t - what I said, in the library - I never wanted to imply that you were just going through the motions, I-“
„I wanted to apologize as well“, you interrupted his nervous rambling, fighting off the smile you felt tugging at the corner of your lips when his eyes widened and his gaze seemed to soften. „I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that, I … I had to study - like, really hard, to get a scholarship for Shiz, my family isn’t - I …“, you trailed off, biting down hard on your lip. 
You didn’t know why you were telling him all this. Maybe it had something to do with the soft, concerned gaze in his eyes, or maybe it was just his sudden closeness making you feel rather dizzy. 
„I get it“, he said quickly, running a hand through his hair. „Honestly, if I were you, I’d hate me as well.“ 
„I don’t hate you“, you pointed out. 
„See, darling? Always a good start“, he said, grinning. 
„Don’t test it“, you said, rolling your eyes, but you weren’t quite able to fight off your own grin anymore. 
„The thing is, my family -my parents, they expect so much from me“, he said, turning serious once more. „And I know what you’re thinking, poor prince, his parents put so much pressure on him, yet he’s still living a privileged life, boo hoo“, he continued, shaking his head, his eyes fixed on some point in the distance. „And you’d be right, at least to a certain degree … my parents, they - sometimes I feel that no matter what I do, I’ll always manage to disappoint them somehow. To them, I’ll probably always be a failure.“ 
„You’re not a failure!“, you interrupted him, shaking your head. „You’re not!“ 
„Oh really?“, he asked, and his grin was back in place, though it did look rather shaky and uncertain. „I thought that a good education was the key for everything?“ 
Despite the seriousness of what he’d just said, you rolled your eyes. Trying to soften the mood, you said: „Well, someone once told me that there’s more to life than just books and studying.“ 
He smirked. „Sounds like a wise someone.“ 
You just rolled your eyes.
A moment passed, during which neither one of you said anything, yet the silence didn’t make you feel uncomfortable. 
Then, you found yourself asking: „What were you doing in the library, though?“ 
Fiyero laughed, though somehow, he seemed nervous once more. Maybe it was the way he ran his hands through his hair distractedly, or maybe it was the way his eyes kept flickering between you and the willow tree behind you. 
„Well, for one I am trying this thing called studying …“ 
You laughed, though you could sense that there was more he wanted to say. 
„But … there was also - there was someone I was trying to build up the nerve to talk to …“ 
Suddenly, your heart started to beat faster and you felt that weird tingling sensation in your fingertips once more. 
Fiyero was standing so close to you now, your noses were almost touching and you could feel his warm breath on your skin. 
„Who - who were you trying to talk to?“ 
He laughed. „I’d hate to disappoint you, but I think there’s some questions textbooks simply don’t provide answers for, darling …“ 
Before you could come up with a reply, he’d leaned in even closer towards you, and then his lips were on yours. His lips were soft and full, and the kiss surprisingly gentle. 
Without having to think about it, you found yourself reciprocating the kiss, moving your lips against his. 
Whatever this feeling you felt when you were with Fiyero was, it felt good. Exceptionally good. 
And so, abandoning every other thought, you wound one hand around his neck, tangling the other in his hair. 
And when you felt him smiling into the kiss, you felt your heart soar. 
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teddy06writes · 7 days ago
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Long Day
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Fiyero Tigelaar x gn!reader
Prompt: I'm tired and touch starved I don't need a prompt
Trigger Warnings: None
Summary: After a long day of boring lectures, insufferable classmates and nightmare group project assignments, you want nothing more than to curl up with your boyfriend within the sanctuary of your dorm.
(The wicked brainrot goes crazy)
{The dialogue is a little clunky but in my defense I worked a seven hour shift today}
You had resolved to never take a three hour lecture that started anytime past 4pm again long before this day, but the longer your professor droned on, the more certain of that choice you were.
The notebook in front of you was mostly bare, with only the most basic of notes scrawled across its surface. It took everything in you to keep your head up, instead of slumping down over the table as you so desperately wished you could.
You let yourself glance up at the clock that hung by the door. Only a few more minutes, and then you'd be free to join your friends in the dining hall, in the last few minutes before it closed.
By Oz, you were never taking another night class.
Finally, finally, your professor dismissed you, and you began to gather your things, all but running from the lecture hall.
By the time you arrived at your usual table, Elphaba, Galinda, Fiyero, were already nearly done with their meals. Nessa and Boq were just leaving to clear their plates as you slumped into your chair, dragging it closer to Fiyero so you could lean into his side.
"Hello darling," He pressed a chaste kiss to your temple, "Are you gonna make it?"
You let out a groan, "No, I'm dead already."
Galinda let out a chuckle, "Well, that's what you get for taking that god awful 5 o'clock lecture."
"My only other option was 8 in the morning. It was the lesser of two evils."
Elphaba smirked, "As someone in that 8am lecture, I'm not too sure."
You just let out another groan, sitting up enough to begin picking at the plate of food in front of you. Galinda went on chattering about something that happened with Madame Morrible earlier in the day.
Eventually, as dining hours came to a close, the four of you returned your dishes, and ventured back out toward the dorms.
Fiyero easily tangled his fingers with yours, pretending to think deeply on something for a moment, before turning to you, "Shall I be coming back to yours then?"
"Please?"
He smiled softly, leaning down to kiss your cheek mid stride.
No sooner had you gotten back to your dorm than Fiyero was pulling you to lie down beside him, wrapping your safely within his arms. Once your head was pillowed on his chest, he let out a hum, "Long day, Darling?"
"The longest." You sighed.
One of his hands began to lazily trace patterns up and down the length of your back, "Do you want to talk about it?"
"Not really." You mumbled, tucking your face into the crook of his neck.
Fiyero humed in response, pressing a lingering kiss to the top of your head, his fingers still trailing their hypnotizing rhythm up and down your skin. Your eyelids grew heavier and heavier, and tucked against Fiyero, listening to the gentle sound of his heart beat, you couldn't fight it.
You were asleep within minutes. Fiyero smiled softly, burying his face in your hair, before joining you in the land of dreams.
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teddy06writes · 4 hours ago
Note
Hi! I adore your writing! Could I request Fiyero comforting a reader with a bad fear of thunderstorms. Maybe the reader hides the fact they have this fear until he finds them during one. Feel free to ignore.
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Fears, and Comforts For Them
Fiyero Tigelaar x gn!reader
Trigger Warnings:
Summary: Fiyero never found himself questioning why you tended to make yourself scarce whenever a storm appeared on the horizon; that is, until he stumbled upon you during a particularly bad one.
When the first rumble of thunder had curled across the sky on his walk back towards the dorms, Fiyero had thought nothing of it. Naturally, a few moments later, when the sky opened up above him, showering him in clear, cold water, it caught him by complete surprise.
{Thanks so much for requesting! I hope I did it justice!}
He glanced up at the dark, turbulent clouds that suddenly taken over the sky for a long moment, before taking off for the dorms again, at a much faster pace as thunder and lighting began to crash down with more ferocity.
Inside, the main common room was dark, as if no one had been, (or been bothered) to turn on the lights when the storm began. Other than the dim light from outside, the only light in the room came from one of the smaller desk lamps from a corner table.
Fiyero could just make out the shape of you, hunched over the table, as he shucked off his now soaked jacket. He started making his way toward you, letting out a laugh, "Can you believe this weather? I was barely out there for a minute and I'm soaked through!"
You glanced up, barley meeting his eyes, and let out a forced chuckle, "Yea..."
Fiyero frowned, giving you a once over, "Darling- you're trembling... What's wrong?"
"I-" Another peel of thunder burst through the air, and you cut yourself off with a flinch.
Fiyero's face softened, understanding, "Oh darling..."
You buried your face in your hands, mumbling, "It's stupid-"
"It's not stupid," He said, kneeling beside your chair, and gently pulling your hands away from your face, "What can I do to help you, darling?"
Lighting flashed in the window, lighting the room harshly for a brief moment, and suddenly your thoughts were scattered, and you couldn't seem to draw a full breath, "I- I don't-"
"Hey, hey, look at me darling," FIyero reached up to cup your face, "Breathe. C'mon, breathe with me, alright?"
He took a nearly exaggerated, deep breath in, and you copied in him, in and out, for a few long minutes before either of you moved again. His thumb brushed back and forth across your cheek, gently, "How about this: we'll go back up to my room, and I'll get out of these wet things, and then you and I can cuddle up, and ignore this whole thing until it blows over, yeah?"
You swallowed thickly, before nodding, your voice coming out small, nearly drowned out by the next groan of thunder, "Yes, please..."
Fiyero took your hand, and soon enough you found yourself wrapped up in his blankets, head tucked close to his chest, so that you could hear his heartbeat- a steady, comforting rhythm.
One of your hands was all but knotted into the soft fabric of his shirt, fingers clenching with every new roar of thunder. But Fiyero's grip on you was firm and gentle all at once.
"'yero?"
"Yes darling?" His voice was soft as he shifted, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
"Can you- can you tell me about your day? Or about Vinkus or- or- anything, really?"
He took in a breath, thinking for a moment, before beginning to speak quietly about his childhood. As the storm wore on, he continued, and you listened intently, until you swore you could hardly hear the thunder at all.
~~
Enjoyed this fic? Help me afford textbooks :)
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auroracalisto · 1 month ago
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movie!fiyero x gn!reader, 365 words summary: life is so much simpler without a brain—no worries, no questioning the world around you. a/n: idk what this is. blame the peppermint mocha in my hand and gregory alan isakov.
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"Life is so much simpler for those without a brain," hummed Fiyero, gentle hands brushing over the apples of your cheeks. His eyes flickered from yours to your lips, a subtle hitch catching his breath.
Oh, he adored you. More than life itself. But how could someone like him have what he wanted in a simple commoner like you? It simply wasn't possible.
You leaned against his hands, eyes flickering up to his. "I feel like you're being dramatic," you said. You turned your hand to his palm, pressing a soft kiss to the warm, calloused skin.
"I beg to differ," he said, a playful smile on his lips.
"But why? Having a brain gives you so many opportunities, Fiyero," you said. "Living without one is like... like living without a heart."
"Living without a heart," he said, a soft scoff escaping him. "If I lived without a brain, I'd still have my heart, darling. At least if I only had a heart, I wouldn't be debating on every little thing, hm? I'd be able to breathe for once without worry stabbing me in the back at every other stop."
Your eyes softened. "Oh," you softly said.
There it was. Worry.
"You worry, for what?"
He blinked slowly at you. You wouldn't simply let this go, would you?
"Well... I..."
For once, you had rendered him speechless—that didn't often happen. Typically, he had so much to say.
You gently grabbed his hand, eyes peering into his. "Fiyero," you softly said. "I will always listen. If there is something you worry about, talk to me. Don't wish away the one thing that I admire you for."
He snorted softly. "You admire my brain? Pink muscle and all?"
"I admire you," you said. "Without your brain, you wouldn't be my Fiyero, now would you?"
"Your Fiyero, hm?"
You smiled softly at his question. "Yes. My Fiyero."
He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. "I don't wish to speak of it any further," he softly said. "But... but when I find what I want to say to you, you will be the first to hear it."
"You promise?"
He chuckled softly. "I promise."
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auroracalisto · 1 month ago
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secrets and scars
movie!fiyero x gn!reader, 847 words summary: the reader has been scarred for some time now. fiyero discovers them and does something rather... unexpected. a/n: idk what this is. but like... yeah. hope it makes sense. i was gonna queue this and save it for later but i’m gonna go ahead and post it. i have a few queued posts for jonathan bailey characters in the coming weeks so. i’ll try to feed you all for the holidays. ♡ tw: reader has scars? no direct mention of where they are but it could be triggering. slight reference to sexual content, reader is naked for a hot minute but nothing graphic happens. you'll understand when you read.
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Scars. They littered your body, an unfortunate reminder of the past you barely escaped. It was as if your body didn't want you to forget.
You wished you could.
You're lost in your thoughts in one of the many archways of Shiz University, staring out at the blue sky above. Your fingers itch to touch your scars—to scratch, to peel them away. You didn't want the reminder of who you once were. You didn't want the reminder of what once happened to you.
In all of Oz, you'd give anything to be able to erase your scars.
Anything.
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It's a flurry of a night—confusing all around, and then somehow, Fiyero ends up in your dorm, kissing you, touching you, and by the love of Oz, how is he so quick with your clothing?
But before you can stop him, panic-stricken, he sees them. Your scars.
He's silent, wide eyed as he looked at them, lips parted as his eyes flicker from each mark on your skin.
He licked his lips a bit nervously, glancing up at you.
"You—are—" he stopped himself, seeing the panicked look on your face. "Oh, Y/n," he breathed out, moving to sit beside of you on your bed. He gently pressed a hand to the side of your face. "I'm sorry. I should have asked."
You slowly shook your head. "No. No, it's okay, I just—just didn't expect you to move so quickly. You, uh—"
"Surprised you, hm?" he softly asked. He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead before he found his voice once more. "I'm so sorry."
"Sorry? For what?"
He doesn't answer. Instead, his eyes fall to your scars, and you can tell he wants to ask you questions—how you got them, what happened, how long ago it happened.
Instead, he says something that takes you by surprise (because of course he did—Fiyero was filled with surprises, was he not?).
"They are beautiful."
"What?"
"Your scars."
You're silent for a moment. "My... my scars? Are beautiful?"
He smiled softly at you, taking ahold of your hand. He looked into your eyes. "Yes. Your scars are beautiful," he softly said. "I won't ask you about them. You can tell me when you decide you are ready, if you ever are."
Your eyes soften as you admire him from your spot on the bed. You feel so exposed—naked to the man not only physically but also emotionally. It was an odd feeling. A... welcomed feeling.
"May I touch them?" Fiyero softly asked.
"My scars?" you questioned for what seemed the hundreth time in the past few minutes.
"Yes. Your scars."
"You want to touch them?"
Fiyero looked at you, an incredulous look on his face. "Yes, Y/n. You can say no, it's quite alright. My feelings will not be hurt if you say no."
You watched him, swallowing nervously. "You... you're so odd," you softly said.
He snorted softly, a smile embracing his features. He leaned forward and kissed your cheek.
"Only for you."
You gave a small nod in return, and watched as he moved down the bed, focusing on the part of your body with your scars. His eyes flicker up to yours and he pressed a soft kiss to the puckered skin.
"Only for you," he repeated.
You feel flustered more than anything, looking away from him and his beautiful brown eyes.
How odd, indeed.
"I... I don't like them," you softly said.
"You do not like your scars?" he softly asked, a finger gently brushing against one of them. "Did something—"
"—I'll tell you. One day. Just..."
"Of course," he said. "I understand. But... Y/n, I meant what I said. They are beautiful."
You pursed your lips.
"They show how much strength you've had to survive, Y/n," he said, leaning forward and letting his lips connect with yours. "They're beautiful because they show me you've had to be brave. To be courageous in the face of such disaster. Your scars may be something you do not like, but do not wish them away."
You don't look at him, but you do not push him away.
"I do not know how you got them," he said, "and I am so sorry if what happened to you was... well, unsavory. But... they show such strength, Y/n."
"Strength is ridiculous and you know it," you muttered. You just want to rebuke his statement, as sweet as it may be.
He pecked your lips again.
"Perhaps that's not the best way to describe what it is, but I can't think of what would be better," he said. "This brain of mine doesn't want to work when the most beautiful person in all of Oz is letting me see their secrets."
Your heart pounded in your chest and you looked up at him, eyes softening.
"You are so odd," you repeated.
He snorted softly. "Yes. We've established this, Y/n. Thank you."
A smile quirked on your lips and you gently grabbed him by his shirt, pulling him in for another kiss.
"You're welcome."
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auroracalisto · 1 month ago
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Hey can you do a fiyero x reader where the reader is afraid of being vulnerable and he helps them?
yes, superfartninja, i think i can.
to be changed.
movie!fiyero x gn!reader, 3.4k words summary: to be vulnerable meant to be defenseless. it was a liability and that's all it ever would be. fiyero couldn't have that, now could he? a/n: please remember that i only have movie knowledge, so this will be based solely on what i saw in the movie. :P also, shout outs to house song by searows (was on repeat for this fic). erm. this kind of got away from me. i started it was 12 AM and now it's nearly 2 AM. hope it's coherent.
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It wasn't like you to be vulnerable. It just didn't happen. It was like... asking a fish or an elephant to climb a tree, or some other weird analogy that you heard oh-so-long ago, when vulnerability aged you more than it helped.
To be vulnerable meant to be hurt. To be ridiculed, to be laughed at, to be made a fool in front of anyone who cared to look your way. It was something that you knew was not needed. You would be fine living by yourself. You came into this world alone and screaming, and you would leave this world the same way.
If you cut out the wound before it began to fester, you solved the problem immediately. Or so they say.
So that's what you did, long ago, when you swore to yourself that the pain you felt would be the very last time. It would never happen again. It couldn't happen again.
Oh, Oz, it couldn't. Your heart couldn't take it.
What was left of your heart, anyway. Sometimes you feared you no longer had one, especially when you feared the pain that would haunt you if someone else came along and made you feel that way again.
It's not that you were afraid. No, fear of being vulnerable was foolish. At least... you believed that you weren't afraid of being vulnerable.
Perhaps that was an act of foolishness in itself. Pretending that you weren't afraid. Pretending that having few friends and few moments of happiness didn't pierce your heart with every passing second.
Perhaps you needed to be better. To be vulnerable, to swear off that silly promise you made to yourself so many years ago.
But it was so difficult.
Being vulnerable was to be in pain. To be lost to a world of sorrow. To be... hurt by the very thing you swore you'd never be hurt by again.
It wouldn't happen.
You wouldn't let it.
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He existed in the back of your mind. His beautiful blue eyes, the way those pretty locks fell in front of his eyes when he actually studied his books (if he ever did, of course).
When was the last time he actually tried...? No. You couldn't think of him like that. Too much thinking about his pretty face would ruin you.
You had only talked to him a few times here and there, and the first time was to merely ask him to move out of the way. He took up quite a lot of space—or at least, maybe it was his confidence. It oozed from him like an air of upmost superiority.
No...
You were just being cruel. He was just standing in the way, out of breath from singing to Galinda in the library (because of course—who didn't sing to pretty girls in libraries anymore?).
The second time you spoke to him was over the essay you had to write in your literature class. Peer reviews were the bane of your existence, and this essay, because of course it did, had a simple prompt in response to one of your readings: Taking into account the author's sheer disdain for the idea of magic, write what you believe Oz would be like without magic.
Thought-provoking, yes. You wrote a decent two pages, handwritten of course.
He gave you a paragraph.
If the world of Oz existed without magic, perhaps we would all be better off. No more bickering over the usages of it all, no more idiosyncrasies, no more debates on whether you are intelligent or mediocre if you hadn't the ability to wave a wand or utter a simple spell. If we didn't have magic, perhaps life would be far more difficult, but I also feel as if we should see what it would be like. Maybe there would be less heartbreak. More happiness to go around.
Okay. A piss-poor paragraph that made you wonder how he was even passing Madame Lillabet's literature class.
Maybe he wasn't.
You didn't feel pity for the man—nobility had the ability to do so many things that you would only ever dream of. Why should you feel pity—vulnerability—for a man you didn't know, let alone understood?
Oz, even now, his essay haunted you. You did your best with your review, pointing out the obvious things missing—a decent thesis, body paragraphs that proved his thesis, and just in general, an entire essay that was expected of the entire class.
He merely read over your essay and made one simple comment: Excellent.
Oh, yes, excellent. It was excellent to know that he was just trying to help your essay, yes? Leaving that little comment, even though you didn't make full marks—how was it supposed to help you?
Pity be damned. He was a fool, through and through.
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Things muddled in your mind like they often did. Thoughts racing, heartbeat close behind the quick pace.
If you had magic, you'd be sure to quell it.
These thoughts were the one thing that you wished you could squash under the heel of your boot. They were the bane of your existence, the utterance of a foolhardy penance to the god of whatever looked down upon you and wished for pain.
Perhaps that was what was meant for you.
A life of pain—of pity from others, of the amenability to be swayed by those around you even when you tried, desperately, to stay away from those who may catch your attention.
Like him.
Oh, Oz, just like him.
Fiyero.
The man who'd lose his head if it wasn't attached to his shoulders. The man who once told you in passing that if he hadn't a brain, perhaps classes would be easier—then he wouldn't truly be all there, and he'd easily get around the... well, specifics of it all. The man whom you felt tugging at your heartstrings, even when you told yourself no.
It would not happen.
It could not happen.
You would not let it.
In typical, terrible luck fashion, you found yourself wandering the halls of Shiz late at night, unable to sleep. The thoughts racing through your head of so many things, not just him (although they kept leading back to the fool), they just weren't stopping.
An exam was to be held tomorrow. Perhaps you could create a distraction—keep the professors from being able to do as they needed. There were a box of fireworks hidden in one of the many corridor closets, kept for special occasion. You could whip a few of them out and create so much chaos that they'd surely have to cancel the exam!
You leaned against the railing, looking down at the stonework of Shiz's courtyard. A chill ran down your spine from the cold breeze, and for once, all was silent if only for a moment.
His voice brought you out from your thoughts.
"Y/n," he said, an obvious smile playing at his lips.
You squeezed your eyes shut and glanced back at him. Without saying a word, you acknowledged him.
"Doesn't look like your dorm," he continued. "What are you doing out here, all alone?"
"Thinking."
His eyebrow quirked. "Thinking? Oh," he softly hummed, coming to stand beside of you. "Well, that's no fun, now is it? What are you thinking about?"
"Nothing."
He snorted softly. "You're thinking about... nothing?"
"Whatever I'm thinking is none of your business," you retorted.
He stared you down for a moment, tilting his head curiously. He hummed again and looked out at where you had been staring moments prior.
"You are right," he softly said, voice much quieter this time. "Let me lead you back to your room. We have an exam tomorrow, remember? You at least need to pretend to sleep."
You paused. Since when did he care about exams? You glanced at him, fighting the urge to question him. You let out a soft sigh and shrugged, allowing him to lead you to your dorm.
The walk was quiet, and you almost questioned how he knew where your dorm was, but you didn't. He seemed to pay attention better than most (it was part of that aloofness, you've noticed), and it wasn't the first time he had seen you near your dorm.
It was at least the third. The number had to be easy to memorize by now. 133.
As you opened your door, Fiyero spoke. "You know, I've been thinking..."
"Dangerous thing for you, isn't it?" you quipped, not looking at him as you stepped inside.
He let out a soft chuckle. You amused him to no end.
"Yes, perhaps," he softly said. "But besides. I was still thinking. I've been... well, wondering if perhaps you would—"
"—no."
He blinked slowly. "What? No? Y/n, you didn't even hear what I had to say—"
"—the answer is still no," you said. You glanced up at him from the spot you had been staring at, frowning. "I don't know what this is, but we are not friends. Do not ask me for favors."
"Not friends, hm?" he softly hummed, leaning against the doorway as he locked eyes with you. So knowing your dorm number was just a fluke.
"Not friends. Now if you'll excuse me, I should probably go and pretend to sleep."
His upper lip quirked in a faint smirk. Not friends, but you still joked with him as a friend would do. He rolled his eyes and gave you a rather joking half-bow.
"Of course," he said. "Do not let me keep you up. Perhaps I should find my dorm as well."
"You should do that," you simply said, shutting the door right after.
You didn't give him a chance to say anything else, quickly locking the door and heading back to your bed.
Heart pounding, mind still racing, but not with the thoughts of earlier. No, dear reader, your mind raced with thoughts of him.
So impressionable, so—so kind, so—well, was he really kind?
To you.
He was kind to you.
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Nearly a week passed you by. The exam went rather well, without any kind of distraction. Passing marks and a somewhat decent night sleep.
You do everything you can to try and avoid Fiyero. Running this way and that, going through all of the longer corridors instead of the shortcuts you knew by heart. You did everything you could to avoid his handsome face.
You did everything you could to avoid the vulnerability that plagued your heart every time you thought of him.
If you simply embraced the wants of Fiyero, perhaps not having a brain would keep you from thinking this way. You'd still have a heart, sure, but it was much better than keeping yourself on your toes wondering if you'd see the damned man at any passing second.
On the hour of the rising moon, almost exactly on the dot, Fiyero spotted you. And this time, you were not evading him.
He practically took off after you, leaving his friends behind. They scoffed and called after him, but he didn't look back. His focus was on you.
He grabbed onto your wrist as you went to leave, not letting you go.
"Y/n! There you are," he softly said. "I have been looking everywhere for you. I wouldn't have thought it would be so difficult to find you, but—"
"—there you go, thinking again," you blurted, unable to stop yourself. Your tongue was wagging faster than your brain was working.
He weakly smiled. "Yes. I know. How ironic, hm?"
You watched as he stared you down.
"Look," he softly began. "I truly—I do not know what I did to deserve you ignoring me at any which way, but I wish you would tell me why. What did I do, Y/n? I thought—well, I assumed that we were friends, but perhaps I was wrong. I find myself wrong quite often nowadays."
"I—well, Fiyero, I—" you paused. You squeezed your eyes shut and inhaled a deep breath. "I don't have friends."
He blinked slowly. "You don't have friends? What of the one girl you were with the other day? Milla?"
"I do not have friends," you repeated. "I have... acquaintances. People I do not get attached to."
"That is sad."
"What?"
He raised an eyebrow. It seemed like a commonality when he spoke with you. The staple eyebrow raise had to happen or else he wasn't really chatting with you.
"It is sad. Why wouldn't you want to get attached to people?"
"I don't want to have meaningless relationships," you said. You avoided saying, I don't want to have relationships at all. "Not everyone can be as friendly as you, Fiyero."
He rolled his eyes. "Friendly. Yes. I talk to people, but I would rather not have all the attention that I do."
"Oh, that's rich," you said, scoffing. "You play the popular little prince and then claim you do not want it? What is that, Fiyero?"
Fiyero pursed his lips. "It is just—this is not a conversation about me. I wanted to have an intervention for you since you seemed as though you were avoiding me every which way. Now. Just—"
"—an intervention? What? Please. You sound ridiculous."
"So do you!" he returned, hands to his hips like an older man scolding a child for something they broke. "You vex me, Y/n! You act as if you are interested in me, then run away hiding like a scared little pup. You act as if you are afraid to get close to anyone."
You stared at him, lips parted ever-so-slightly. But it was enough. You were done for.
He let out a curt laugh. "You are."
"What?"
"You are. Scared. I can see it in you. You listen to what I have to say, even when the others don't. I've made an effort to pay attention to you. To see what you—"
"—Fiyero, stop."
"Do not tell me to stop, Y/n," he said, voice low with conviction. "Not now. Not when I've finally figured you out. You are scared. But of what? Being close to someone? Having a friend?"
You frowned. "I am not scared—"
"—you look at me like if I were to touch you, you'd melt."
"That doesn't mean anything!"
"I can see it in your eyes, Y/n," he said, not looking away. He held eye contact with you and hoped that you would continue to do the same. "You—you're scared. To open your heart to the people around you."
You frowned, again. It was perpetual anymore. "And you're a sad man who dances and pretends everything is fine because Galinda said you looked pretty one day."
He blinked slowly, a smile quirking on his lips. "Maybe. But this—this isn't about me, Y/n. This is about you."
"What even is this? I didn't agree to have you psychoanalyze everything I've ever done."
"Neither did I, yet here we are," he said. "I've had a lot of time to think, to mull it over, and I know it. I know it now. You are scared. I don't know what happened to you. I don't know who hurt you in your past, or if something tragic happened to make you so cold inside, but there is absolutely nothing wrong with being... with being vulnerable, Y/n. There's something... magical, even, about opening up to others."
"Oh, and you would know, wouldn't you?"
He frowned. "Y/n—"
"—no. Absolutely not. You do not get to sit there and ridicule me for not wanting to be close to people and then not take what I give you," you said. "You do not let anyone close to you. Sure, Galinda, but what does she know about you? Does she know how you half-ass everything? How you hardly even talk to your 'friends' and just let them float along with you like everything is fine and dandy? You're as sad as I am, if that's what you're trying to say. Don't try to fool yourself."
"I am not trying to fool myself," he softly said. "I am only trying to make it known that I see you. I see myself in you."
"Oh, that's rich," you said, scoffing. "The rich, popular boy sees himself in little ol' me. That's perfect."
"Y/n—"
"—no. Don't. Stop. Just. I don't want to talk to you anymore. We're not friends. We never were friends. Just leave me alone."
It's simple, but it shuts him down. And with that, you run from his side, rushing to hide away in your dorm.
You couldn't believe what you did. Blowing up at him instead of listening to what he had to say. He read you like the children's book your heart truly was—while everyone else focused on the words, he focused on the pictures. The minute details that seemed to pass by everyone's mind because the story was flowing far too quickly.
He saw the delicate brush strokes, the intricate colors, the pieces of you that the words did not show.
He knew you.
And it scared you.
Only you knew yourself. If anyone else were to know who you were, deep inside, well, that would be disastrous.
It couldn't happen.
You couldn't let it.
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Fear.
Perhaps fear was the best way to describe the way you felt.
You sat by the edge of the lake in the forest just beyond Shiz's campus, fingers gently brushing against the water. The surface rippled, sending small waves to the end of the shore.
You were afraid.
Of what?
Of a man knowing you?
Of Fiyero knowing you better than even your family once knew you?
You sat there, thoughts racing through your mind. It was as if you couldn't avoid them anymore.
Days had passed since you blew up at Fiyero and ran. You couldn't avoid him forever, you knew that, but it seemed as if your thoughts believed the same.
Tears pricked at your eyes. The warm, salty tears began to fall before you could even try to stop them, and a soft sob bubbled at the back of your throat.
"Y/n?"
Shit.
You quickly wiped your tears away and looked back at him—at Fiyero. But your tears wouldn't stop. A soft sob rippled through you and you turned your head away.
Fiyero came to your side, kneeling down in the soft earth beside of you. He inwardly grimaced at the dirt, but he said nothing of it. He'd bathe in mud if it meant you would stop your tears.
He reached forward, gently placing a hand to your cheek. He turned your head to face him.
"Y/n," he softly said. "It's alright. You... you're alright."
Another sob.
He pulled you into his arms, and you let him. You didn't pull away, melting into his embrace as he said you would before. He pressed his chin to the top of your head, situating himself so he would be more comfortable near you.
He softly hummed a soft tune—you remembered it. The one thing he hummed quite often when you caught him alone, or trying to focus on his school work.
Dancing through life, skimming the surface... Life's more painless for the brainless.
He was just a sad boy with needs of his own, much like you were scared of being seen. Of being known.
Of being loved.
Oh. Oh, that's what it was.
It terrified you to no end.
Fiyero pressed a soft kiss to the top of your forehead, gently cupping your cheeks in his hands.
"What's got you so upset, love?" he softly asked, wiping your tears away gently with his thumbs.
You shook your head. "I... later," you mumbled. You leaned into his grasp, and you could have sworn you saw his eyes soften.
He released a soft, shaky sigh of his own, before he pulled you back into his arms. He'd hold you until the end of the world if that's what you needed him to do.
Being vulnerable—it was the one thing you had told yourself you would never do. Ever again. And here you were, letting this man hold you and practically lull you into a calmness you'd never felt before.
Is this what it felt like? To be... weak? To be... frail?
No.
Vulnerability... it didn't mean that.
It meant that you were... open. That you had managed to open your heart to a more... malleable form.
To be changed.
To find the one thing in life that you knew would keep you going for as long as it could.
To be vulnerable meant to be loved.
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auroracalisto · 24 days ago
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day #13: mistletoe
modern au fiyero x gn!reader, 1k words a/n: had a request for mistletoe fiyero. didn't think they celebrated christmas in oz, so i improvised. also, jonathan bailey is so pookie. that is all. tw: reader is overstimulated? alcohol consumption, pre-established relationship but no one knows until now, momentary boq slander but it's lighthearted and not serious at all i promise
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Christmas parties for rich people were the worst. Scratch that—parties in general sucked.
From the spiked egg nogg and punch that somehow ended up in everyone's red solo cup, to the obnoxiously loud music that someone decided to play, it all royally sucked.
A game of charades was happening in one of the many living rooms of Galinda's mansion, a few party-goers were out in the backyard looking at the snow while smoking something that definitely wasn't a cigarette, and a strand of mistletoe hung from the ceiling, just out of reach so no one in their right mind could tear it down.
It mocked you.
Called you weak. Useless. Most definitely alone.
Okay, okay, maybe that's a lie and the egg nogg was getting to your very senses.
How did you even get invited to this shit?
Oh.
Right. Galinda. Something about Fiyero, Elphaba, class... It all kind of just melded together after a moment.
Fiyero had begged you at some point, saying it would be so much fun. That if you came, he wouldn't leave your side, wouldn't stop holding your hand.
He's such a liar. But it is what it is. You can't expect such a popular man like him to only stick with you at a party of this caliber, could you?
You sighed and got to your feet, checking your phone. To put it simply, this party was a bust for you. You had hoped to get something out of it, anything, but honestly, all you had gotten was a mild panic attack from the loud noises and the inkling of a headache that riddled it's way deep into your bones.
It was nearly midnight.
You began to make your way to the door, pulling out your phone to call a friend to come and pick you up. Maybe text your boyfriend and tell him you were just going home.
You didn't make it very far when he calls your name.
You quickly whipped your head around to see him—Fiyero.
He had disappeared after your second cup of punch and your first cup of egg nogg (which was much better here than you imagined—perhaps the spiked part muted out the rest of it). He has that sweet little smile of his as he walked over to you.
He pointed up to the ceiling once he came upon you.
"Mistletoe," he simply said.
You stared him down before your eyes flickered upwards. He was right—mistletoe hung just above you. Of course it did.
You couldn't ever catch a break, could you?
You grumbled under your breath, rolling your eyes. "For fuck's sake."
He grinned at you. "I mean, I feel like that's a bit too far for mistletoe, but if you want to—"
"Oh my god, stop it!"
He let out a laugh at your mild anguish, a smile forming on his lips. "Come now, love, it's just mistletoe. We could kiss if you wanted."
You blinked slowly. Is that what you wanted? To kiss him?
Yes. Oh, god, you've wanted to kiss him for ages now. Not just little pecks here and there, on the check or on the forehead.
Christmas party at Galinda's be damned. You'd wanted to know how he kissed for months. A real, public kiss, that showed everyone that you belonged to him and vice versa. A kiss that would change how everyone saw your relationship between each other.
"Don't tell me you're trying to leave, love," he softly said, motioning towards your phone. "Party's not even really started if you ask me."
You huffed. "I didn't ask you," you said. "You've ignored me most of the night. I've resorted talking to Boq and my cup of egg nogg like a crazy person."
He snorted softly. "You are being ridiculous," he said. "I did spend time with you."
"Right, right," you said, crossing your arms over your chest. "Before you went off and left me with Boq."
"Is Boq truly all that bad?"
You pouted up at him.
He smiled down at you, tilting his head as he watched you. "Now. I'll repeat myself," he said. "Mistletoe. Christmas party. People all around."
You took a moment to realize just how many people were in the living room. Had you really been that much in your mind that you didn't realize the crowd that had migrated inside?
"Kiss or no kiss. It's up to you," he said.
"Maybe I'll go grab Boq. Kiss him under the mistletoe instead."
He snorted softly. "You wouldn't."
You narrowed your eyes at him. You go to walk back to the sofa where you saw Boq's red curls.
He quickly reached out and grabbed your wrist.
"Do not do that," he said, narrowing his eyes at you. "Come on, please," he said. "I'm sorry for disappearing on you. I didn't mean to."
You huffed softly. You knew he was being earnest—you could see it in his eyes. You looked away, frowning.
He gently nudged your cheek with his knuckle. "Look at me," he softly said. "Let me prove to you how sorry I am."
You gave a quick and curt nod, and he immediately leaned forward, a hand to the back of your neck as he pulled you in for a rather deep kiss.
Lips molding with yours, his hand at the base of your neck fitting just perfectly. His teeth gently nipped at your bottom lip, and you would have granted him access had it not been for the need to breathe. Damn alcohol inhibiting all of your senses.
You sucked in a soft breath as you looked up at him, feeling the warmth of... something spread throughout your body. What was it? It wasn't anxiety. Wasn't excitement. No, no... it was...
"Do you know how long I've wanted to do that for?" Fiyero asked, leaning forward and pressing a second but rather quick kiss to your lips. "Ages, love."
You licked your lips nervously. Oh, you knew that feeling well. Joy.
Perhaps Christmas parties weren't all that bad.
They seemed to make your secret boyfriend not-so-secret after all (judging by the hush and the bruises that now rested on several partygoers' arms).
You tossed your phone onto the sofa nearby, hands gently gripping at his jacket. You pulled him close and kissed him again, feeling as his arms wrapped around you.
Lips to lips, bodies to bodies, the mistletoe watched as its tradition granted yet another kiss to those who deserve it.
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maysileeewrites · 22 days ago
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🫧 What is this feeling? 🫧 teaser
Fiyero Tigelaar x gn reader
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„Stop calling me that!“
„What - darling?“
Or: Fiyero suddenly finds himself spending an unusual amount of time in the Shiz library …
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„Well, there you go, darling“, Fiyero said, flashing you a surprisingly genuine smile, as he handed you the four books.
Again, you felt a weird tingling in your fingertips as your hands briefly touched, and, almost defensively, you clutched the books to your chest.
„I - thank you …“
He laughed, the sound surprisingly warm and deep. This wasn’t his typical, obnoxiously loud laugh you’d come to despise during the last few weeks.
„It’s nothing … still curious what that poor book did to you, though …“
see you later tonight! 🤭
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