#fiyero x male reader

[supercap2319]

Fiyero came up to Y/N with a charming smile on his face. "You know I was thinking...we should get together sometime and... study."

"You thinking? Better be careful. I wouldn't want you to hurt your brain with a foreign concept." Y/N responded.

Fiyero laughed.

[undercoveravenger]

Couldn't Be Happier

Pairing: Fiyero x Galinda’s Brother!Male!Reader

Requested: Yes

Request: “Maybe reader is Galinda’s Brother, who has a masculine body and voice, but is just a feminine as his sister, maybe the plot that Fiyero asks him to the ball room? And Galindas an amazing wing woman?”

-----

There is something to be said about your… unique relationship with your sister, Galinda. Sure, you don’t really look all that much alike, and no, you don’t always get along very well, but there is not anyone that you trust more than each other. It’s why you’re the one she’s invited over to discuss her rather turbulent feelings about her roommate while Elphaba’s away at Madame Morrible’s seminar.

“I’m telling you, G,” you say, checking your nails to be sure you hadn’t missed a spot with the polish, “This sort of obsession is not just because you annoy each other. You like her!” You catch a slight chip in the nail polish and fix it quickly, “Invite her to go to the party with you!”

A knock at the door interrupts your sister before she can respond and you get up to answer it when Galinda doesn’t move. You’re more than a little stunned to see Fiyero, Shiz’s newest student, standing there. Your sister hadn’t mentioned anything about the Prince coming to see her.

A very intelligent “Um?” escapes you at the sight of him (and oh what a sight!) leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest.

He smiles when he sees you, pretty blue eyes twinkling mischievously, “Hello love,” he says, and you have to force yourself to remain focused on anything but the almost musical lilt of his voice.

“Sorry,” you say, taking a step back, “You’re here for Galinda, right? Let me just-”

Your sister takes that moment to utterly betray your trust, appearing at your side like she’d been summoned from the ether, “Oh, Fiyero, what wonderful timing!” She catches your arm as you try to subtly slip back into her dorm, manicured nails digging into your bicep like claws, “My dear brother here was just lamenting how he doesn’t have a date to accompany him to the Ozdust tonight!” She nudges you forward, completely ignoring the I’ll-kill-you-for-this look you shoot at her. “Perhaps,” she nudges you further forward and you nearly stumble, “You might know of a solution to his dreadful situation?”

Fiyero smiles again, softer this time, and takes your hand in his, careful not to smudge the fresh nail polish. “I can certainly think of a few solutions I’d love to be of service with,” he lifts your hand to his lips and presses a feather-light kiss to your knuckles, grateful that your sister had helped him track you down long enough for him to ask you out. “If you’d allow me the honor of escorting you to the Ozdust Ballroom tonight, that is?”

You can only manage a nod before Galinda is dragging you back into her room to finish getting ready, the both of you squealing over your upcoming dates. 

Fiyero stands there for a moment after the door shuts, listening to the bright peals of your laughter, and thinks that now, in this moment with a date with you only a few short hours away, he couldn’t be happier.

[itsbensart]

Burnt Out but Not Alone

Pairing: Fiyero Tigelaar x Male Reader | Part 2

Summary: Y/N feels overwhelmed by his demanding workload and the pressure of looming deadlines. Despite his exhaustion, he refuses to take a break, even as concern grows from friends like Elphaba—and even the Winkie Prince. When Fiyero sees just how much Y/N is struggling, he offers unexpected help, proving that sometimes, even the most carefree people can provide the support needed during times of stress.

Warnings: Excessive teasing and playful banter, Subtle romantic tension, Themes of academic pressure and burnout, Light physical touches (e.g., arm grabs), Vulnerability in moments of exhaustion, and Heartwarming support from an unexpected ally.

A/N: Y/N is an Architecture Student specializing in Ozian Architecture at Shiz University, known for its demanding curriculum.

Word Count: 1,743 words

The lecture hall buzzed with the soft hum of conversations, the rhythmic tapping of pens against desks, and the occasional shuffle of papers. Y/N sat in the middle row, staring at his open notebook but not truly seeing it. His thoughts were elsewhere, replaying Fiyero’s smug grin and that low, teasing voice that seemed to follow him even now.

“You know what to do if you want to shut me up, doll.”

The memory sent an involuntary flush to his cheeks. He quickly ducked his head, hoping no one noticed. Shaking his head, he tried to dispel the distraction. This was no time to get flustered. An endless list of tasks awaited, and Professor Solennia was already notorious for her high standards.

Y/N’s chosen course, Ozian Architecture, wasn’t for the faint of heart. It was one of the most demanding programs at Shiz University, known for its rigorous workload and the precision it required. Students delved deep into the rich architectural history of Oz—an eclectic mix of styles balancing the grandeur of Emerald City’s gleaming towers with the rustic charm of Munchkinland’s cottages and the imposing, fortress-like structures of Winkie Country.

Today’s lecture focused on the integration of natural and magical elements in building design, a cornerstone of Ozian architecture. The topic would have been fascinating under other circumstances, but Y/N found himself struggling to concentrate. Between looming deadlines and the lingering echoes of Fiyero’s remarks, his mind was a chaotic mess.

Professor Solennia’s voice cut through his thoughts. “As you can see, the inclusion of enchantments in structural integrity was not merely aesthetic but practical. Now, who can tell me how the dragon clock influenced the design of Emerald City’s central spire?”

Y/N froze as the professor’s gaze swept across the room. He usually prided himself on being prepared for questions like this, but today, his mind was blank. He prayed someone else would answer, his heart pounding as he stared down at his notes—frustratingly empty.

By the end of class, as students filed out, Y/N realized just how little he had retained. The weight of his responsibilities crashed back down on him, amplified by the realization that he was now further behind than before.

He decided to head to the university’s library to tackle his pending tasks—especially the scale model due next week. Though he was exhausted, he had no choice. The output would determine whether he passed this semester.

As he walked through the hallway, he almost bumped into Elphaba, who had been waiting for him to catch up. She noticed his drooping posture and the dark circles under his eyes immediately.

"Y/N," she said, her voice softer than usual, "You look like you haven’t slept in days."

Y/N gave a half-hearted shrug, trying to brush her off. "I’m fine, Elphaba. Just... busy, you know? I have a lot to do."

She narrowed her eyes, not buying his response. "It’s more than just being busy. You’re running yourself ragged. You need rest."

"I don’t have time for rest," Y/N replied, his tone more tired than he meant it to be. "There’s too much to do."

Elphaba hesitated for a moment, clearly concerned. "I get it, but this—" she gestured to him, her eyes lingering on his fatigued form, "—isn't sustainable. You’re only going to burn out."

Y/N gave a small, dismissive smile. "I’ll be fine. I just need to get through this week."

Elphaba didn’t look convinced but didn’t press the matter further. "Alright, just don’t overdo it. Take care of yourself, Y/N."

He nodded quickly, not meeting her eyes, and made his way toward the library, eager to escape the conversation.

Unbeknownst to Y/N, Fiyero Tigelaar had been wandering the campus, casually searching for his favorite “doll” to tease. His natural charm and carefree demeanor had earned him a reputation for showing up wherever and whenever he pleased, and today was no different.

As he strolled into the library, his piercing eyes immediately spotted Y/N in his corner.

Fiyero smirked. This was too perfect. He sauntered over, his footsteps deliberately light. “There you are. Hiding in the library, huh? Didn’t think this was your kind of hangout spot.” As he slid into a seat beside Y/N, he leaned closer, his voice low enough to only reach him. “Still thinking about me, doll?”

Y/N clenched his jaw, his ears burning as he hissed, “You wish.”

Fiyero chuckled, clearly pleased with the reaction, and leaned back in his chair. “You’re awfully red for someone who’s not thinking about me.”

Y/N barely looked up, his pencil pausing briefly before resuming its work. “Not now, Fiyero. I’m busy.”

The lack of reaction made Fiyero blink in surprise. Usually, his remarks earned him a flushed face or an exasperated retort. Instead, Y/N’s tone was flat, his focus unbroken.

“Busy?” Fiyero peered down at Y/N’s sketches. “What’s got you so tied up? Another one of those fancy projects?”

“Yes,” Y/N responded curtly. “So please, not now, Fiyero.”

Fiyero, however, seemed unbothered. “So, what’s next, doll? More lectures? Or maybe some of that architectural magic you lot are so obsessed with?”

Y/N let out an exasperated sigh, his patience worn thin. “I have too many tasks to finish. Does that answer your question?”

Fiyero tilted his head, studying Y/N’s face with uncharacteristic seriousness. “You look exhausted.”

“Thanks for noticing,” Y/N muttered, packing up his materials before leaving the library, hoping the prince wouldn’t follow him.

At first, Fiyero assumed it was just another one of Y/N’s quirks—being too serious about academics and all—but as the hours turned into days, he couldn’t ignore the change. The playful teasing he usually dished out with ease seemed to fall flat, met with a tired smile or a quiet nod instead of Y/N’s usual fiery retorts. Fiyero had tried to brush it off, but the concern gnawed at him, growing stronger with each passing day.

One afternoon, while they were in the cafeteria, Fiyero noticed Y/N in line. With a tray in hand, Y/N seemed oblivious to his surroundings, swaying slightly from exhaustion. Just as it seemed Y/N might stumble, Fiyero reacted quickly, grabbing him to prevent a fall.

"Alright, doll," he began, keeping his tone light, though concern lingered beneath the surface. "You’ve been looking like you’re one step away from collapsing. What’s going on?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

Y/N glanced at him briefly, then lowered his gaze to the ground. "Just… school stuff. You wouldn’t understand."

Fiyero frowned, his usual teasing grin replaced with a concerned expression. "Try me."

Y/N sighed long and heavy, adjusting the strap of his overburdened bag. "There’s just too much. Drafts, models, presentations… I can’t keep up. And Ozian Architecture isn’t an easy course. It feels like I’m drowning, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t keep my head above water."

Fiyero came to a stop, gently grabbing Y/N’s arm and halting him in his tracks. "Why didn’t you say anything sooner?"

Y/N shrugged, avoiding his gaze. "What good would it do? It’s not like anyone can help. This is my workload. My responsibility."

Fiyero didn’t respond immediately, instead narrowing his eyes at Y/N’s exhausted face. "How much have you slept? Or even rested?"

The silence that followed was answer enough.

Fiyero’s usual smirk softened into something more like genuine concern. "Alright, doll. Time to take a break."

"I don’t have time for a break," Y/N snapped, his tone sharper than he intended.

Fiyero stood firm, the command in his voice unmistakable. "Then you don’t have a choice. Let’s go," he said, pulling Y/N toward the courtyard with surprising insistence.

"I’m serious, Fiyero. I have so much to—"

"And I’m serious too," Fiyero interrupted, his voice firm but not unkind. "You’re running yourself into the ground, and you know it. If you collapse, you’re not going to finish anything."

Y/N frowned, but the warmth of Fiyero’s hand on his arm and the determination in his eyes made resistance feel futile.

They walked in silence, the noise of the cafeteria fading as they headed for the quieter courtyard. Once there, Fiyero led Y/N to a bench, underneath an oak tree. "Sit," he ordered, dropping his own bag onto the ground.

Too tired to argue, Y/N complied.

For once, Fiyero didn’t joke or tease; instead, he looked thoughtful. After a moment, his gaze sharpened. "Alright, here’s what we’re going to do."

Y/N blinked up at him, still a bit disoriented. "What?"

"I’m going to help you."

Y/N let out a dry laugh, shaking his head. "You? Help? No offense, Fiyero, but this isn’t exactly your area of expertise."

Fiyero smirked, though it was softer than usual. "Maybe not. But I can still do something. I’ll carry your books, keep you company during late nights, or even distract you when you’re on the verge of a breakdown."

Sitting beside him, Fiyero leaned back, as if the weight of the world didn’t rest on his shoulders. "Look, I might not understand all your architectural mumbo jumbo, but I can help in other ways. You don’t have to do this alone, doll."

Y/N opened his mouth to respond but paused. The sincerity in Fiyero’s eyes caught him off guard. For the first time in days, a small, genuine smile tugged at his lips. "You’re serious?"

"Dead serious," Fiyero replied, his grin widening. "Starting now. So, what’s first on the agenda, Mr. Burnt-Out Architect?"

Y/N hesitated, then admitted, "I have to finish a scale model for tomorrow, and I still need to draft the base plans."

"Easy," Fiyero said, slinging an arm around Y/N’s shoulders. "You draft, I’ll cut and glue. I’m not completely useless, you know."

"You’re really going to help me?" Y/N asked, feeling the weight on his shoulders lighten just a little.

Fiyero chuckled. "What can I say? You’re growing on me. And besides, I can’t have you walking around looking like a zombie. It ruins my fun."

Though exhaustion still pulled at him, Y/N couldn’t help but laugh softly. "Alright, Tigelaar. Let’s see if you can keep up."

As they made their way toward the studio, Y/N felt a strange warmth spreading through his chest. Maybe, he wouldn’t have to face the chaos alone after all.

And maybe, just maybe, Fiyero Tigelaar was more than just a cocky prince of charm.

To be Continued.....

A/N: Hello! Here’s the second chapter of my series, (I don't have a title yet, so..... yeah). I’m so happy you’re sticking around to see where this story goes—it means a lot!

There’s definitely more drama, love, and emotions coming your way, so keep an eye out for the next chapters. I’d love to hear what you think, feel free to leave a comment. Thanks for reading, and see you in the next one! 😊

[malereaderworld]

I can’t go out, i’m sick. 📍

Fiyero Tigelaar x male reader

Warnings: reader has a past with depression. Fiyero is concerned. Angsty.

request

“Gre~aaa~t for you to finally show up, Mr. Tigelaar.” The talking goat bleats, turning its neck to look at me. “Of course, couldn’t miss the lecture from my f~aaa~vourite teacher.” Fiyero said sitting next to Elphaba and Glinda, imitating dr. Dillamond.

“Hey there you are, y/n isn’t with you?” Elphaba whispers confused, looking at Glinda. “Wait if he isn’t with Fiyero, then where is he?” Glinda only adds to the confusion, getting hushed by someone in the class.

“How would I know, I thought he was at class he always is.” Fiyero looks around to see if he sees one of your mutual friends. “Hey Pfannee have you heard from y/n today?” Fiyero asks your bestie Pfannee sitting a row above him, thinking he must know about your whereabouts.

“Uhm, no I actually thought he was with you so I didn’t bother going to his dorm.” He whispers looking at the three of them, with slight concern in his face. “Why does everyone think he’s with me?” Fiyero asks confused.

“Because you’re only almost always with him, you’re like in love with my brother.” Glinda clocks him, as he jerks up at the words ‘in love.’ “Yeah it’s kind of really obvious, the only one oblivious is you.” Pfannee sasses, as Fiyero looks for support at Elphaba. Be she nods in agreement with Pfannee.

“Is there something more imp~oo~rtant than my lecture, Mr. Tigelaar?” Dr. Dillamond asks annoyed. “I’m so sorry for interrupting your lecture sir. But have you heard anything thing from y/n?” Fiyero looks down, fidgeting with his hands.

“Oh, I suppose I haven’t. He isn’t in attendance? That is not like him…” Now he only added to the concern. Fiyero gets up and walks towards the exit. “A~nn~d where are you going?” Dr. Dillamond asks Fiyero. “Checking what’s wrong with y/n.” He says as he’s out the door.

———

“Y/n, can you let me in?” I hear Fiyero knocking with a concerned tone. “Y/n its me, Fiyero. Are you there.” His concern only growing. “Please make noise so that I know your okay and not hurting your self. Please, baby.” That last part slipped out.

I hear Fiyero take a step back already knowing what he’s about to do. He’s about to kick open the door, and I’ll let him. “I’m going yo be kicking the door in 3, 2, 1.” A loud noise followed by the slamming noise of the door against the wall.

Fiyero looks around, and sees me lying in bed. “Baby, please.” He pleads as he walks towards me, I turn over. “Thank goodness you’re okay.” He says kissing my forehead, grabbing my chin making me look at him.

“I’m okay, don’t be dramatic.” I say, not mentioning him calling me baby. “You’re burning up, you are not okay.” Putting his hand on my forehead. “Let me take care of you baby.”

“It’s just a cold, i’m fine you should be in class anyway.” I try to protest this. “I don’t need to be anywhere baby, I’m taking care of you.”

[boypied]

MISTER POPULAR.

pairings: fiyero tigelaar x male reader

summary: a love story blooms when fiyero does a simple act of kindness by helping a fellow peer out.

requested by: me ;)

mentions: strangers to friends, flirting.

[part two] [part three] - coming soon

He was the most sought-after guy at Shiz University. He had practically all the girls all over him aswell as the majority of the guys, whether they would willingly admit it or not. Because of his popularity status and your lack of time, he never really noticed you or even looked your way...atleast that is what you thought. You hadn't said one word to him during your first semester at Shiz but you had completely fallen head over hills for him, and you were now too far gone. So what if he was completely full of himself and possibly a bit of a snob? You could tell it was all just an act, but somehow no one else could cause they weren't looking at him for who he was they were looking at him for how he presented himself.

You were running through the Shiz University halls one fateful day as you woke up late, completely sleeping through your personalised ozian alarm clock. You are speeding through until you trip on someone's banana peel skidding across the floor and all your textbooks going flying. You swiftly get up off your face, and you begin picking up all of your books, praying that no one had seen this horrifically embarrassing moment. In the corner of your eye, you see someone strut over and kneel down to give you their hand as you manage to gather all of your textbooks off the floor. You take the kind gentlemen hand and you look up to thank him until you turn a bright shade of red when your eyes meet with Fiyero's.

"F-Fiy..." You try to stutter out, but his name won't leave your mouth. He shakes your hand. "Fiyero Tigelaar," he says confidently as he takes some of the textbooks from your grasp, "you do know we don't have class today.. right?" He says softly as he begins walking back to the dorm area of Shiz. You immediately begin following next to him, practically lost for words that he would even look your way, let alone help you out. He stops outside your dorm room and turns around to face you, "keys?" He asks in a soft tone your eyes meet with his for a moment until you break the gaze and hand him the keys. "Wait... how did you know -" You begin talking for a moment before Fiyero cuts you off, walking inside your bedroom and dropping your books down on your desk, causing a big thud.

This was just the beginning for you both. Over the course of a couple of weeks, Fiyero began to capture little cute moments of you with his Shiz camera that he stole from the photography section of the Univeristy. He still hadn't caught on to the fact that you were in love with him. You tried not to focus on how you felt about him cause simply that this was just enough. His acknowledging you was everything you ever needed. He had a surprise for you that had your stomach in knots thinking about what it could entail. He had his thick veiny hands on your shoulders as he had you blindfolded walking through some sort of grassy area. You could tell by the feeling of the tall grass against your legs.

The feeling of the grass against your legs stopped as you step forward once more, "are you ready" he whispers in your ear feeling his hot breath against your ear made your body shudder beneath his touch, he doesn't understand what he does to you. "I-Im ready," you stutter out nervously as Fiyero practically pulls you down onto some sort of velvety blanket. Light blesses your eyes as he unties the blindfold once it's finally dropped off your face. The first thing to grace your sight is Fiyero..his beautiful blue orbs, the ones that captured you originally were staring right into yours. A small smile on his face as he pulled away from your face, revealing a picnic he had set up for you, away from Shiz University.

Your eyes fill up with tears, and Fiyero immediately leans over the food to get closer to comfort you, "d-did I do something wrong?" He says in a worried tone, but you just laugh through your tears, shaking your head. "No! Not at all, just... no one has ever made me feel like this before." You stutter out as Fiyero's smile brightens you up again as he gently rubs your shoulder sitting down properly again. "I like this spot...it's so quiet and away," Fiyero says in a soft tone as he takes a strawberry and bites it. He looks out into the beautiful corn field ahead of us seeing the Scarecrow that watches over the crops. He brings the half eaten strawberry to your lips. "Take a bite," he says in a soft, quiet tone.

You lean forward slightly, taking a bite out of the same strawberry he has been eating, the mixture of the strawberry with a small portion of his spit was to die for. This is the closest you'll get to kissing him is what ran through your mind, the closest you'll get to tasting him. You swallow the strawberry after savouring the flavour for a strange amount of time but not enough for it to cause Fiyero to become concerned. He watches the way your face fills with pleasure as you swallow the strawberry. He softly nibbles his lip, watching you. You both ate like kings and packed up everything, "sad this is over," you say to him as you turn to face Fiyero. He turns his head slightly to look down, "Don't worry... who says I'm not planning another picnic as we speak." He says as confidence practically drips off him.

You begin walking through the tall, tall grass, feeling it brush against you both. The sun shines on you both perfectly as you stop to face it, this is the moments that are in all those romantic books you read. Golden hour covering your faces, amongst nature and a gentle breeze blowing your hair perfectly. You both lock eyes and Fiyero subconsciously puts his picnic basket on the floor without breaking the eye contact, the tension between you both would be able to be cut with a knife. Fiyero's hands connect to your cheeks as his thumb rubs your smooth supple skin he leans down slightly and connects your lips together.

The world was spinning, all the stars has aligned. You had never felt his fire inside of you before as Fiyero's lips connected to yours, you get up on your tiptoes and wrap your arms around his neck pulling his lips closer to yours. Your bodies pressing against one another, the kiss passionate and beautiful. Fiyero pulls away softly to meet your gaze as a strip of spit still connects your lips, a faint blush crosses over both your cheeks. "Fiyero..." You mumble out in a soft tone as you take his hands, a panic stretches visibly across his face as he pulls away "uh-" is all he can mutter out "sorry I've got to go!" He blurts out in a panic as he scoops up his basket and runs off through the tall grass back to Shiz University.

You eyes follow him as he runs off in a panic, the sun begins to set and the grass darkens as you stand there still frozen in shock about the whole thing. You had the best and first kiss of your life and then Fiyero panicked and ran off, you slowly walk back to Shiz, slumped over and shy you walk back to your dorm room to find that your door is already unlocked and open, your eyes widen as you slowly walk inside. "F-Fiyero?!" You say in shock as he sits there on your bed with tears streaming down his face, "I'm so sorry!" He repeats himself over and over again between sobs as he stands up to walk over to you, you pull him into your warm embrace "shh...it's okay" you whisper to him aswell as sweet nothings to try and calm him down.

Fiyero snuggles his face against your neck, leaning down to make sure he can. His tear soaked face soaked your neck, you slowly manage to sit you both down on the bed where you comfort him and he tells you why he ran off. "I wasn't expecting us to kiss... I didn't even know I liked- ... I can't say it" he says nervously and embarrassed, you softly smile at him as you take in what he's just said as you gently caress his arm, your hand gently wipes a tear from his cheek. "You don't need to label yourself, just...like who you like" you whisper softly to him as his eyes lighten up slightly and his sniffles quiet down. His hand gently caresses your cheek once again like when you were both in the tall grass, "y/n..." He says in a quiet voice "I...like you" he mumbles out softly as his thumb traces along your bottom lip.

"I've liked you for a while now Fiyero" you openly confess to him as he leans in and gently pecks his lips against yours, both pulling away and smiling softly at eachother. Fiyero pulls you into his warm embrace as he gently caresses your cheek and then running his hand through your hair. "Can we stay like this?" You say softly to him as your face is in his chest as he lays back against your bed, "yes...I'd like that" he say to you as he closes his eyes and enjoys knowing that you there for him, enjoying your warmth, enjoying your presence.

taglist ~ @starboye @mailmango @ghostking4m @kingchaospostsstuff @crispysoup318 @inhumanshadows @its-ares @gayaristocrat @cronasluvr @irlsamcarpenter

[dreamersworldduh]

A GAME OF DESIRE

PRINCE FIYERO x MALE!READER

SUMMARY — From the moment Prince Fiyero arrived at Shiz University, he captured the attention of nearly everyone with his charm and carefree attitude. You, however, remained indifferent, focused on studies and not interested in his flirtations. But Fiyero was intrigued by your lack of interest and began to pursue you with teasing words and touches, breaking down your defenses

WARNING! 18+ MDNI. Suggestive Langauge. Swearing.

WORDS! 11.1k

AUTHOR'S NOTE! You know I really have this addiction to write these 10k—11k works. It's almost 4AM and I needed to get this out. Enjoy your reading!✨

Prince Fiyero's arrival at Shiz University sent waves of excitement through the student body, turning the once-serious halls into a flurry of hushed whispers, stolen glances, and barely contained swoons. His effortless charm, striking good looks, and undeniable charisma made him the center of attention from the moment he set foot on campus. Nobles and commoners alike vied for even a sliver of his attention, their eyes lingering on him as he passed by, hoping to be the one he chose to dazzle with his easy smile.

But you were different. While others found themselves utterly enchanted by the exotic prince from the Vinkus, you remained unmoved. It wasn't that you failed to recognize his allure—anyone with eyes could see he was handsome, and his reputation for being carefree and flirtatious only added to his mystique. But unlike the rest of Shiz, you had no interest in chasing after a prince. You had your own ambitions, your own studies to focus on. You weren't about to let some charming aristocrat, no matter how effortlessly magnetic, distract you from your goals.

Yet, much to your surprise—and mild annoyance—it seemed that Prince Fiyero had taken a particular interest in you. While you ignored him, he noticed you. While others competed for his attention, he sought yours. It was as if your disinterest intrigued him, drawing him closer rather than pushing him away. His gaze lingered on you in class, his words seemed to carry an unspoken challenge whenever he addressed you, and despite your best efforts to remain indifferent, he had a way of making his presence known.

You weren't interested in him. Not in the way everyone else was. But it was beginning to seem as though he was very interested in you.

The grand stone halls of the university library loomed in eerie silence as you carefully pushed open the heavy wooden door, wincing at the faint creak that echoed through the vast space. The air was thick with the scent of old parchment and ink, the dim candlelight casting long shadows between towering shelves of books. It was well past curfew, and by all rights, you weren't supposed to be here. But rules be damned—you needed a quiet place to think.

Your dorm room had long since become unbearable. Your roommate was loud, obnoxious, and seemingly incapable of understanding the concept of personal space. If it wasn't his raucous laughter filling the room, it was the constant chatter of his equally boisterous friends, their presence turning your once-private retreat into a social hub you wanted no part of. Studying there was impossible. Thinking there was impossible. Even sleeping had become a gamble.

But here, in the vast, empty library, there was peace.

You made your way deeper into the maze of bookshelves, the sound of your footsteps muffled by the thick rug beneath you. The flickering candle sconces barely illuminated the high ceilings, leaving much of the library cloaked in shadow. You relished the stillness, the quiet hum of solitude that settled over you like a comforting cloak. This was what you needed—a space where you could breathe, think, and read without the constant interruptions of the outside world.

Choosing a secluded table near a towering window, you let out a slow breath and dropped into the chair, the weight of the day easing off your shoulders. The moonlight filtered through the stained glass, painting soft colors across the worn wooden surface. You reached into your satchel, pulling out the book you had been trying to finish for days.

Finally. No distractions. No unwanted company. Just you, the words on the page, and the stillness of the night.

However, that precious silence didn't last long as the stillness of the library was abruptly broken by the sound of footsteps—light, but unmistakably approaching. You stiffened, your fingers instinctively tightening around the edges of your book. No one else was supposed to be here. You had been careful, slipping through the halls undetected, ensuring that not even the nosiest students or patrolling professors caught sight of you.

And yet, someone had.

A shadow shifted between the towering shelves, and before you could so much as contemplate slipping away unnoticed, a familiar figure emerged into the dim candlelight.

Prince Fiyero.

He stood there, a curious smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, his striking blue eyes flashing with amusement as he took in the sight of you sitting alone, past curfew, in a place where no one would have expected to find you. His finely tailored jacket was undone, his shirt slightly unbuttoned at the collar—he looked like someone who had carelessly wandered into trouble, which, knowing him, was probably the case.

"Well, well," he mused, folding his arms as he leaned against the nearest bookshelf. "I never would've pegged you as the type to sneak into the library after curfew. Isn't this more my kind of thing?"

You let out a slow breath, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. "I needed some peace and quiet," you muttered, casting a pointed glance at the book in your hands.

Fiyero, of course, took that as an open invitation to do the exact opposite of what you wanted.

With an exaggerated sigh, he pulled out the chair across from you, the wooden legs scraping against the floor as he carelessly dropped into the seat. He sprawled out in his usual fashion, limbs draped lazily, as though he had all the time in the world. His gaze flicked to your book, then back to your face, mischief gleaming in his expression.

"Peace and quiet, huh?" he mused, tapping his fingers against the table. "Funny, considering you just got yourself some very unexpected company."

You narrowed your eyes at Fiyero, barely suppressing a sigh as he leaned back in his chair, looking completely at ease despite the fact that he, like you, was very much breaking curfew. His presence was already an irritation, and the last thing you needed was his signature brand of playful arrogance invading what was supposed to be your quiet, distraction-free night.

Trying to redirect the conversation—and, with any luck, get him to leave—you arched a brow and said, "Shouldn't you be off chasing after Glinda? That seems to be your favorite pastime."

Fiyero's lips curled into a knowing smirk, and he tilted his head slightly, studying you like you had just said something particularly amusing. Then, with a low chuckle, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table.

"Jealous?" he asked, his voice dripping with teasing amusement.

You scoffed immediately, rolling your eyes as you leaned back in your chair. "Not even remotely," you shot back, your tone dry. "I'm not attracted to you, Fiyero."

He hummed thoughtfully, as if he didn't quite believe you, his smirk widening just enough to set your teeth on edge. Then, after a moment of silent consideration, he tilted his chin slightly, mischief flashing in his blue eyes.

"Wanna bet?"

His words were smooth, deliberate, and undeniably challenging. It wasn't just an idle taunt—it was a dare.

You felt a flicker of irritation at his confidence, at the way he always carried himself like the world bent at his will. You knew exactly what he was doing, trying to get under your skin, to see if he could make you flustered like so many others who had fallen for his effortless charm.

But he was wrong about you.

You met his gaze steadily, arms crossing over your chest. "You'd lose," you said flatly.

Fiyero only grinned wider, as if that was exactly the response he had been hoping for.

The atmosphere between you shifted in an instant.

One moment, Fiyero was lounging in his chair, that smug, self-assured grin still playing on his lips. The next, he was leaning forward, closing the space between you with slow, deliberate ease. His voice dropped to a low, knowing whisper, the warmth of his breath ghosting against your skin.

"You know," he murmured, his tone almost conspiratorial, "I've noticed something about you."

You stiffened slightly but held his gaze, refusing to be the one to back down first. "Oh? Do tell," you said, keeping your voice even, though you could already sense where this was going.

His smirk deepened, his blue eyes gleaming with mischief as he studied you, far too closely for comfort. "I've noticed the way you stare at me," he said smoothly. "Almost as much as I stare at you."

Your fingers curled against the surface of the table, but you willed yourself not to react, not to give him the satisfaction. "You're imagining things," you muttered, though even you could hear the lack of conviction in your voice.

Fiyero, of course, caught it instantly.

"Oh, am I?" he mused, tilting his head slightly. His eyes roamed over your face, sharp, assessing, taking in every flicker of expression as though committing it to memory. Then, with a slow, deliberate movement, he leaned in even closer, his voice barely more than a whisper now.

"I've also noticed how your eyes scan me when you think I'm not looking," he continued, the teasing lilt in his tone making your pulse flicker with irritation—or something else entirely. "Like you're trying to see through my clothes."

Your breath hitched, just slightly, but you masked it quickly, shooting him a sharp glare. "Don't flatter yourself," you muttered, your jaw tightening.

Fiyero just chuckled, low and amused, as if he could hear the tension in your words, as if he had already decided he was right and nothing you said could convince him otherwise. He shifted back just a fraction, but not enough to break the crackling energy between you.

"No need to be shy," he said, flashing you a grin that was all challenge. "If you wanted to see me naked, you could've just asked."

You didn't miss a beat.

With a slow, unimpressed arch of your brow, you leaned back just slightly, enough to create the illusion of distance—though it did little to cool the heat creeping into your skin. "You know," you mused, voice perfectly level, "they say men with big egos are usually compensating for... well, something."

Fiyero blinked, and then his lips curled into an even wider smirk, his amusement flaring like a spark catching fire. "Oh?" he drawled, tilting his head with mock curiosity. "Is that what you tell yourself to sleep at night?"

You scoffed, rolling your eyes, determined to keep the upper hand. "I'm just saying, for someone who loves to be the center of attention, you seem awfully desperate for mine."

It was supposed to be a smooth deflection, a way to turn the teasing back on him. But Fiyero wasn't like most people—he didn't back down, and he certainly didn't let go of a game once he realized you were playing it too.

Instead of retreating, he leaned in again, close enough that the scent of him—warm, rich, something faintly spiced—wrapped around you. His gaze flickered down briefly, sharp and assessing, before locking onto yours again, and for the first time, you felt a flicker of unease. Not because you were intimidated—but because you knew he had caught something.

Something you didn't want him to.

His smirk turned knowing. "You're trying awfully hard to prove you don't want me," he murmured, voice lower now, more deliberate. "But your body says otherwise."

Heat pooled in your gut as you fought to keep your breathing even. Your jaw tightened, hands clenched under the table where he couldn't see them. But it didn't matter, because he wasn't looking at your hands. He was watching you—watching the way your posture had stiffened, the way your thighs pressed just a little too tightly together, the way your pulse had betrayed you.

Damn it.

You knew exactly what he meant, and the worst part? So did he.

Still, you refused to let him win. Your lips curled into a smirk of your own, forcing yourself to keep your tone casual. "You must be imagining things, Your Highness," you said smoothly. "Maybe all that attention from Glinda has finally gone to your head."

Fiyero chuckled, low and wicked, shaking his head slightly. "Oh, I don't think so," he murmured, his voice like silk against your skin. Then, after a pause, he added, "And if you don't believe me—"

His gaze flickered downward just for a split second, and you nearly cursed at how bold he was being, how much he was enjoying this.

"I could show you better than I could tell you,"

The moment Fiyero's hands gripped the edges of your chair, a sharp, sudden scrape echoed through the quiet library as he pulled you closer—too close. Your body tensed instinctively, your breath hitching as the wooden legs groaned against the floor.

Now, there was barely any space between you.

His face was mere inches from yours, his breath warm as it fanned over your lips, his scent intoxicatingly close—earthy, spiced, and unmistakably him. The smirk never left his face, but his eyes had darkened, sharpened with something that sent a shiver straight down your spine.

"You know," he murmured, his voice low, rich, dangerously smooth, "I could make you admit it."

You swallowed hard, heat creeping up the back of your neck. "Admit what?" you replied, trying to keep your voice steady, unaffected.

Fiyero chuckled softly, his lips barely curving, but the sound alone made something coil tight in your stomach. "That you want me," he whispered, his words deliberate, each syllable drawn out as if savoring the effect they had on you. "That no matter how much you pretend otherwise, you feel it."

His hand moved.

A slow, deliberate movement—starting at the side of your chair before it ghosted over your knee. His fingers were light at first, barely there, teasing as they traced just above the fabric of your trousers. Then, they slid upward, his touch trailing along your thigh, achingly slow, deliberate in a way that sent heat rushing through you despite every effort to keep your body still, to keep your expression impassive.

Damn him.

You clenched your jaw, but the way your breath faltered—just slightly—betrayed you. And Fiyero, ever the predator when it came to games like this, noticed. Of course he noticed.

His smirk deepened, his thumb brushing over your thigh in a way that was almost casual, almost innocent—if not for the way his eyes locked onto yours, drinking in every twitch, every tiny reaction, like he was waiting for you to break.

"You can keep denying it," he murmured, his voice so close now, so damn smug, "but your body is already telling me everything I need to know."

His fingers pressed just slightly into your thigh, a wicked promise in the way they lingered.

Your heart pounded against your ribs, heat curling at the edges of your self-control. You needed to say something, to do something before he got exactly what he wanted.

Before you proved him right.

Your mind screamed at you to act, to push him away, to end whatever dangerous game Fiyero was playing before it got out of hand. You wanted to challenge him, to grab his wrist, to force that cocky smirk off his face with sheer defiance alone. But you didn't.

You let his fingers continue their slow, torturous ascent.

The heat of his touch burned through the fabric of your trousers as his fingertips grazed higher, slipping past the safe zone of your outer thigh, inching toward something far more dangerous. Your pulse pounded in your ears, your breath coming slightly shallower, but still, you didn't stop him. You should have—gods, you should have—but some stubborn, reckless part of you refused.

You weren't going to be the first to break.

Fiyero's smirk deepened, his gaze flickering between your face and where his hand wandered, his expression smug, almost lazy—like he had all the time in the world to push you, to unravel you bit by bit. His fingers reached your inner thigh, his touch featherlight yet electrifying, sending a sharp jolt straight through your core.

And then—

A firm, possessive grasp.

Your body betrayed you instantly, stiffening beneath his touch, a sharp breath hissing past your lips before you could stop it. His fingers curled around you through the fabric, confident, unapologetic, testing the weight of you in his palm as if he already knew the answer to the question neither of you had spoken aloud.

Fiyero let out a low chuckle, one that sent shivers down your spine, his thumb brushing over the sensitive fabric-covered length of you in an infuriatingly slow caress.

"Well," he murmured, his voice dark with amusement, "would you look at that."

Your fingers clenched into fists against your lap, your nails digging into your palms as you fought against the fire threatening to consume you. You could still stop this. You could still shove him away, throw some sharp remark that would wipe that insufferable smirk off his face.

But you didn't move.

And neither did he.

The tension between you was electric, thick enough to drown in. Fiyero's smirk never wavered as his hands slid from your thigh to your knees, pushing them apart with a slow, deliberate force. You let him, even as your heartbeat pounded against your ribs, your breath catching as he moved between your legs.

Then, without a word, he dropped to his knees.

The sight of him there, positioned so brazenly in front of you, made something coil tight in your stomach. His hands were warm against your legs, fingers curling just slightly as they rested on your parted thighs, his eyes flickering up to meet yours with that same wicked glint. He was waiting—watching.

You sucked in a sharp breath as he reached for the waistband of your pajama pants, his fingers hooking into the fabric with clear intent. That was when you finally moved, your hand snapping down to grip his wrist before he could pull them down.

"Fiyero," you hissed, your voice low but urgent. "We're in the damn library."

He only grinned, completely unfazed by your resistance. "And?" he mused, tilting his head slightly. "No one's coming in anytime soon. Trust me."

You shot him a glare, but he simply chuckled, shaking off your grip like it was nothing. And before you could argue further, before you could remind him that anyone could walk in at any moment, he moved.

In one smooth, unhesitating motion, he yanked your pajama pants and underwear down in a single sweep.

Cool air rushed over your skin, and your breath hitched as you felt the sudden freedom, the way the fabric no longer confined you. Your dick sprang free, thick and aching, twitching slightly at the sudden exposure.

Fiyero let out a low, satisfied hum, his gaze dragging down to take in the sight of you. His fingers tightened just slightly against your thighs, as if restraining himself—or savoring the moment.

"Well," he murmured, his smirk turning positively sinful. "Now that's a sight."

Heat surged through your body, embarrassment and desire warring inside you as you clenched your jaw.

"Fiyero—"

But whatever protest you were about to make died on your tongue the moment his hands slid up your legs again, his touch burning, his eyes dark with intent.

Fiyero's fingers gripped your thighs with a firm but teasing touch, holding you in place as he leaned in, his breath ghosting over your exposed skin. The anticipation alone sent a shiver through you, your body tense, bracing for what was coming.

Then, his tongue made contact.

A slow, deliberate lick from the base of your dick to the very tip, his tongue warm and slick as it traced along your length with maddening precision. A sharp, involuntary gasp escaped your lips, and before you could stop yourself, a low, breathy moan followed.

Fiyero stilled for a fraction of a second before chuckling against your skin, the vibration sending another jolt of pleasure through you. "Now that," he murmured, his voice thick with amusement and something darker, "is a sound I wouldn't mind hearing more of."

He went in again, his tongue moving with practiced ease, flicking over the sensitive head before dragging back down, swirling in just the right places, mapping you out like he already knew exactly what would make you tremble.

It was infuriating how good he was at this.

You barely managed to bite back another moan, your fingers twitching at your sides, unsure whether you wanted to grip the edge of the chair or bury your hands in his tousled golden-brown hair. He was enjoying this—there was no doubt about that. The way he worked you over, the way he hummed softly in satisfaction every time your body betrayed you, the way his fingers pressed a little harder against your thighs whenever your breathing stuttered.

He was in complete control, and he knew it.

Fiyero pulled back just enough to glance up at you, his lips glistening, his smirk utterly devastating. "You can try to stay quiet," he teased, tilting his head as his fingers traced lazily along your inner thigh. "But I'd much rather hear how much you're enjoying this."

And then he went back down, his mouth wrapping around you with slow, agonizing intent, his tongue working you with the kind of expertise that made it clear—he wasn't just good at this.

He loved it. And he loved making you lose control.

Fiyero was relentless.

His tongue moved with maddening precision, swirling and flicking in ways that made your entire body tighten with pleasure. His lips wrapped around you, dragging up and down your dick with slow, deliberate movements, taking his time, savoring every reaction he pulled from you. Every hitched breath, every low moan that slipped past your lips only seemed to encourage him, his fingers digging into your thighs as he kept you firmly in place.

You barely had the presence of mind to glance down, but when you did, the sight nearly undid you right then and there—Fiyero on his knees, his head bobbing in perfect rhythm, his dark lashes fluttering as he worked you over with infuriating expertise. He was enjoying this far too much, and the worst part? So were you.

Your breath came in ragged gasps, your fingers gripping the armrests of the chair with a white-knuckled hold as heat coiled dangerously tight in your core. He knew exactly what he was doing, pushing you closer and closer to the edge, drawing out every ounce of pleasure until you were trembling beneath him.

"F-Fiyero—" You barely choked out his name, your voice strained, warning.

But he didn't stop.

If anything, he doubled down, hollowing his cheeks as he took you deeper, his tongue pressing in just the right way that sent a sharp, electric jolt through you. A strangled groan tore from your throat, your body arching slightly as the pressure in your core snapped.

Pleasure crashed over you in waves, your release spilling forth in a rush of heat. You expected him to pull away, to recoil—but he didn't.

To your utter shock, Fiyero held firm, his lips sealing around you as he took everything you had to give. His throat bobbed as he swallowed, not a drop escaping, as if this was exactly what he had planned all along. The sensation alone made your legs tremble, overstimulation shooting through you like lightning as his mouth lingered for just a moment longer, drawing out every last aftershock.

When he finally pulled back, his tongue flicked out, lazily licking his lips as he gazed up at you with a smug, satisfied smirk. His blue eyes were dark with satisfaction and mischief, locked onto yours, and then—without hesitation—he leaned in.

The kiss was slow and deliberate, his lips warm and teasing against yours, tasting of heat, arrogance, and something undeniably intoxicating. He kissed you with the same ease he did everything else, like he had all the time in the world, like he was savoring the moment, knowing it wouldn't be the last. His mouth moved against yours with a lazy sort of confidence, drawing you in, making your pulse spike all over again.

And despite everything—you kissed him back.

Your hand twitched against the armrest of the chair before you let it move, fingers tangling briefly in the loose strands of his tousled hair. Fiyero let out a low, pleased hum at that, deepening the kiss just enough to make your breath hitch before he finally pulled back, a satisfied smirk playing at his swollen lips.

His voice was a husky murmur, brushing against your skin as he whispered, "We're not done, you know."

Your stomach twisted at the certainty in his tone. There was no hesitation, no question—just pure, infuriating confidence. He knew exactly what he had done to you. And he knew you weren't going to forget it anytime soon.

He gave you one last teasing peck before finally pulling away, stretching lazily as he got to his feet. You barely had time to process the shift before your gaze inevitably dropped—and that was when you saw it.

Even through the dim candlelight of the library, it was impossible to miss.

The prominent bulge pressing against the front of his trousers.

Large, heavy, undeniable.

Heat shot through you all over again, your breath stalling for just a moment as your mind caught up with the realization—he was just as affected by this as you were. Despite the smug exterior, despite the teasing, despite the way he had controlled everything—he wasn't untouched by it.

Fiyero noticed your lingering stare instantly. His smirk widened, one brow quirking up as he casually adjusted his belt, making a show of it, like he knew exactly what you were thinking.

"Careful, darling," he mused, his voice dripping with amusement. "If you keep looking at me like that, I might just have to stay."

You snapped your gaze back up to his face, scowling, but the warmth at the back of your neck betrayed you.

Fiyero only chuckled, taking a step back toward the library's exit. "Guess we'll have to save the rest for later," he murmured, winking before slipping into the shadows.

And just like that, he was gone.

Leaving you alone in the quiet, in the dim candlelight, still catching your breath, still feeling the ghost of his touch on your skin—and still knowing, with absolute certainty, that this wasn't over.

From that night on, you couldn't deny it—there was a part of you that looked forward to being alone with Fiyero again. The way he had touched you, kissed you, left you utterly wrecked in the library lingered in your mind far longer than you cared to admit. It was maddening, how his smirk, his voice, his hands still haunted you in the quiet moments when you let your guard slip.

But that didn't mean you were desperately waiting for him.

You refused to be one of those people who fawned over him, who tripped over themselves just to catch his attention. You were better than that, and if Fiyero thought otherwise, he had another thing coming.

So, every time you saw him—whether it was in class as you sat beside Elphaba, diligently taking notes, or in the courtyard where he lounged with Glinda, flashing that easy, effortless grin at anyone who so much as glanced his way—you played it cool.

When his eyes flickered to you across the lecture hall, you barely spared him a glance, keeping your expression neutral, focused. If his lips quirked in a smirk, as if daring you to react, you simply turned your attention back to your work, refusing to take the bait.

Even when you passed him in the corridors, when his arm was slung lazily around Glinda's shoulders and he looked at you with that glimmer of amusement—like he was waiting to see what you'd do—you gave him nothing. Just a casual nod, a fleeting look, and then you moved on as if that night in the library hadn't set fire to something deep in your core.

But Fiyero wasn't stupid.

He saw through it.

And that was the problem.

Because every time you pretended not to care, every time you played it cool, he enjoyed it. You could see it in the way his smirk turned just a little sharper, the way his gaze lingered a second too long, the way his fingers tapped idly against his knee in class, as if counting down the moments until you were alone again.

And, damn it, a small, infuriating part of you was waiting for that moment too.

The library was quiet, save for the soft rustling of pages and the occasional scratch of quills against parchment. You sat beside Elphaba at one of the long wooden tables, your books and notes spread out between you as you went over her latest assignments for her training with Madame Morrible. The flickering candlelight cast shadows over the ancient texts, the scent of parchment and ink thick in the air.

Elphaba, as usual, was focused—her sharp green fingers tapping against her temple as she read through a particularly dense passage. You were about to make a comment, something about how Morrible always seemed to assign the most convoluted texts, when—

A firm hand suddenly grabbed your wrist.

Before you could react, you were being pulled from your seat, your chair scraping loudly against the stone floor. A few students turned to look, but by the time Elphaba even lifted her head, you were already being dragged past the towering bookshelves and deeper into the library's shadowed corridors.

You barely caught a glimpse of who had grabbed you before your back was suddenly pressed against one of the towering shelves, the scent of something warm and familiar—spiced, earthy, unmistakably him—filling the space between you.

Fiyero.

His grip loosened just enough to let you breathe, but he didn't step back. His body was close, too close, his blue eyes flashing with something unreadable in the dim candlelight.

"What the hell are you—" you started, voice low, annoyed—but before you could finish, Fiyero cut you off, his smirk sharp, teasing.

"Miss me?" he murmured.

Your pulse spiked, but you kept your face carefully impassive, refusing to give him the reaction he wanted. "I was in the middle of something," you muttered, casting a pointed glance back toward Elphaba, who was probably scowling at your now-empty seat.

Fiyero didn't care.

"If you were really focused," he mused, tilting his head, "you wouldn't have let me drag you all the way back here without a fight."

Your jaw clenched. You hated that he had a point.

He leaned in just slightly, his breath warm against your skin. "We never did finish what we started," he murmured, his voice dark with amusement. "And I'd hate to leave anything unfinished."

Heat pooled low in your stomach, but you forced yourself to keep your expression unreadable. "You do realize we're still in the library?" you deadpanned.

Fiyero grinned, his fingers grazing your wrist again, light and teasing. "That didn't stop us last time."

Damn him.

Fiyero's smirk lingered as he remained close, his presence a force you couldn't quite shake. His fingers, still ghosting over your skin, were warm, teasing, deliberate. The dim glow of the library's candlelight caught in his blue eyes, making them gleam with mischief and something deeper—something you weren't sure you were ready to name.

"Come by my room later," he murmured, his voice a low, velvety promise. "After curfew."

You swallowed, forcing yourself to hold his gaze. "And if I don't?" you asked, arching a brow in an attempt to keep your composure.

Fiyero chuckled, his fingers trailing lightly up your arm before stopping just below your collarbone. His touch sent an infuriating shiver through you, one he most certainly noticed. "Then," he mused, tilting his head, "I suppose you'll be lying awake all night wondering what you missed."

His smirk widened as he leaned in, his breath brushing your lips now, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off him. "And trust me," he murmured, his voice dropping lower, heavier, "you don't want to miss it."

Before you could react, before you could push him away or—gods forbid—pull him closer, he closed the distance.

His lips met yours in a slow, intoxicating kiss, a deliberate tease rather than an overwhelming demand. He kissed you like he had all the time in the world, his mouth soft but certain, coaxing rather than taking. It wasn't hurried, wasn't rushed—it was confident, controlled, and devastatingly effective.

Then, just as you started to sink into it, just as your body betrayed you by leaning the slightest bit forward, he pulled back. His lips barely left yours, his breath still mingling with your own, his fingers tracing one last, lingering path down your chest.

"I'll leave the door unlocked," he whispered, his voice thick with amusement and promise. "Don't keep me waiting."

With that, he stepped back, letting his touch fall away completely before turning on his heel. He strode off between the bookshelves as if he hadn't just unraveled you, as if he hadn't just left your skin burning and your thoughts spinning.

And as much as you wanted to pretend otherwise, you knew you'd be at his door when the time came.

It was a no-brainer that you were going to meet up with Fiyero.

You told yourself otherwise for most of the night, stubbornly keeping your mind occupied with anything but the invitation he had whispered in your ear. You paced your room, flipped through books you weren't really reading, and even attempted to get some sleep—though that was laughable, considering your thoughts were already tangled up in the what ifs of what waited for you behind his door.

And so, despite your better judgment, despite the part of you that wanted to resist his arrogant, teasing confidence, your feet carried you through the dimly lit corridors of Shiz after curfew, the halls eerily quiet, the only sound your own steady footsteps.

When you finally reached his door, you hesitated.

Your hand hovered just over the handle, your pulse slightly elevated—not from nerves, you told yourself, but from the thrill of sneaking through the halls at this hour. At least, that's what you wanted to believe. But the anticipation clawing at your stomach, the lingering heat from his earlier touch, said otherwise.

Exhaling sharply, you shook off the hesitation and pushed the door open.

The sight that greeted you was enough to make your breath hitch.

Fiyero was already waiting.

Reclined against the headboard, shirtless, the soft glow of candlelight flickering over the golden-brown skin of his chest, casting shadows over the defined muscles of his arms and torso. He looked completely at ease, his fingers lazily drumming against the sheets, his smirk appearing the moment his gaze flickered up to meet yours.

"Took you long enough," he mused, his voice warm, rich, and laced with amusement. "I was beginning to think you changed your mind."

Your throat felt suddenly dry, but you forced yourself to remain composed, stepping inside and shutting the door behind you with a quiet click. "You wish I changed my mind," you countered, keeping your tone as indifferent as possible.

Fiyero chuckled, tilting his head slightly as he eyed you, his gaze trailing down your body before flicking back up to your face. "Oh, I knew you'd come," he murmured, his smirk deepening. "I just like hearing you pretend otherwise."

The air between you crackled, thick with the same unspoken tension that had been following you both since that night in the library.

Fiyero stretched, his movements slow and utterly unbothered, his bare chest shifting with the motion as he patted the empty space beside him.

"Well?" he drawled, cocking a brow. "Are you just going to stand there, or are we going to finish what we started?"

You hesitated for only a fraction of a second before stepping forward, closing the distance between you and the bed. The soft candlelight flickered over Fiyero's bare skin, highlighting the sharp lines of his collarbones, the toned muscles of his chest, and the relaxed way he sprawled across the mattress as if he had no cares in the world. He watched you with an unreadable expression, his blue eyes dark and knowing, like he had been waiting for this moment all night.

Slowly, you sat down beside him, the mattress dipping slightly beneath your weight.

Before you could settle fully, Fiyero moved.

Effortlessly, he shifted, his hands finding your waist as he guided you into a more comfortable position—his touch firm but unhurried, like he wanted to savor the feeling of you beneath his fingertips. He adjusted your posture, angling you slightly toward him, his leg brushing against yours, his warmth seeping into your skin despite the minimal contact.

"There," he murmured, his voice low, satisfied. "Much better."

You swallowed, forcing yourself to keep your expression neutral, though the way his fingers lingered against your side didn't go unnoticed.

Fiyero let his hand drift away, resting it lazily against the sheets as he leaned back against the headboard, studying you with a look that sent something unsteady coursing through your veins. Then, after a pause, he spoke.

"You know," he mused, tilting his head slightly, "people always assume I go for the obvious choices."

You raised a brow at that. "Obvious choices?"

He smirked, eyes flickering with amusement. "The ones who throw themselves at me," he clarified, his tone almost bored. "The ones who bat their lashes, hang onto my every word, do whatever it takes to get my attention." He let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head slightly. "But they never keep it."

You didn't say anything, waiting for him to continue.

Fiyero's gaze flickered over you, slower this time, more deliberate. "But you," he murmured, his voice quieter now, more thoughtful. "You don't try."

He leaned in just slightly, his breath warm against your skin. "You don't chase," he continued, his fingers idly toying with the hem of your sleeve, barely grazing your wrist. "You don't throw yourself at me like the others. You just are. And that—" he let out a slow breath, his lips curving in something softer than a smirk but no less intense—"that drives me insane."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, but you refused to let him see how much they affected you.

Instead, you scoffed, arching a brow. "So what, I'm interesting to you because I don't want you?"

Fiyero chuckled, but there was something knowing behind it, something deeper. "Oh, you want me," he murmured, his fingers trailing just barely over your wrist again, enough to make your pulse stutter. "You just don't want to admit it."

His smirk deepened as he watched you, waiting for your response, waiting for you to push back—because that was part of the game, wasn't it?

And damn it, you weren't sure who was winning anymore.

You let out a slow breath, schooling your expression into something neutral, something unreadable, though your heart was still thudding a little too hard from the way Fiyero's fingers had lingered against your skin. His confidence was infuriating—his words, the way he leaned in like he already knew exactly how this night would end, how you would end up. But you weren't going to let him have the upper hand so easily.

So, you met his gaze steadily and countered, "You've got it all wrong."

Fiyero's brow arched, amusement flickering in his eyes as he leaned in a fraction more, his smirk widening. "Do I?"

You tilted your head slightly, letting your own lips curl just enough to challenge him. "You're acting like I'm the one pining after you," you said smoothly. "But let's be honest here, Fiyero." You let your gaze sweep over him, slow and pointed, before flicking back to his face. "You want me."

For a second, there was silence.

Then, to your complete lack of surprise, Fiyero laughed—not in shock, not in denial, but in pure, shameless amusement. His grin widened, his teeth flashing in the dim candlelight as he tilted his head slightly, like he was genuinely impressed.

"You're not wrong," he admitted, voice low, warm, dripping with that lazy, arrogant charm that had driven so many others to their knees. "I do want you."

His fingers traced absentmindedly over the sheets between you, his gaze still locked onto yours. "I don't just kiss anyone, you know." His smirk deepened, his voice dropping an octave. "And I certainly don't invite just anyone into my room after curfew."

He leaned in again, closing the space between you, his breath fanning against your lips now. "If all I wanted was an easy distraction, I could've had that with anyone." His hand slid up your arm again, slow, teasing. "But I didn't want anyone." His fingers curled lightly around your wrist, his grip firm but not forceful. "I wanted you."

His words sent a shiver through you, your pulse betraying you for the briefest moment. You knew he could feel it, could see it in the way your throat bobbed slightly as you swallowed.

Fiyero chuckled softly, his thumb brushing against the inside of your wrist in a way that made it suddenly very difficult to breathe. "And the best part?" he murmured, his voice a near-whisper now, thick with satisfaction.

"You want me too."

Damn him.

The tension between you snapped like a cord stretched too thin.

Maybe it was the way Fiyero's voice had dropped into that low, velvet murmur, thick with confidence and something darker. Maybe it was the way his fingers traced over your wrist, his thumb brushing against your skin like he already knew what you were going to do before you even did it. Or maybe it was just the simple, undeniable truth hanging between you—one that you had spent too much time pretending didn't exist.

You wanted him.

And, as much as he had teased, challenged, and played this game—you knew he wanted you just as much.

So you kissed him.

You didn't hesitate, didn't second-guess it. One moment, you were staring him down, determined not to let him win this little game of his. The next, you were leaning in, your lips crashing against his, erasing any space that had existed between you.

Fiyero responded instantly.

A low, satisfied hum rumbled in his throat, and then his hands were on you—gripping, pulling, claiming. His fingers curled around your waist, his touch firm and possessive as he guided you forward. Before you could process it, you were being pulled into his lap, straddling him as his body pressed against yours, warm and solid beneath your palms.

The kiss deepened, all slow-burning heat and urgency. His lips moved against yours with effortless confidence, like he had been waiting for this, like he had known this would happen eventually. His hands slid up your back, his fingers digging into your hips just enough to make your breath hitch, to make you realize how little control you had left in this moment.

Fiyero grinned against your mouth, his breath hot as he murmured, "Took you long enough."

You didn't even have it in you to glare at him. Not when his hands were holding you like that, not when his lips were trailing down to your jaw, pressing slow, teasing kisses along the curve of your throat.

Not when every single nerve in your body was screaming for more.

Fiyero's hands roamed your back lazily, his touch firm yet unhurried as he held you in his lap. The warmth of his bare skin beneath your fingertips was almost distracting, but not nearly as much as the way his lips ghosted along your jaw, trailing heat in their wake.

Then, he pulled back just slightly, just enough to meet your gaze, his smirk still in place but laced with something more curious now.

"So," he murmured, his fingers tracing small, idle circles against your lower back. "Tell me something..." His head tilted slightly, blue eyes sharp and full of mischief. "Is this your first time?"

For a second, you just blinked at him before a laugh escaped you—short, unexpected. The sheer audacity of the question, the way he asked it so smoothly, so casually, as if it was a mere formality, made it impossible not to react.

Fiyero's brows lifted slightly at your amusement. Clearly, he had expected a different answer.

"Oh, Oz no," you said, shaking your head, a smirk tugging at your lips. "Not even close."

That wiped the smug certainty off his face in an instant.

For once, Fiyero looked genuinely surprised, his grip on you tightening ever so slightly, as if reevaluating everything he thought he knew about you. His gaze flickered over your face, studying you like you were suddenly an entirely different person.

"Huh," he mused after a beat, tilting his head as his smirk returned, albeit with a little more intrigue this time. "You had me fooled."

You arched a brow. "Oh?"

He chuckled, shaking his head slightly. "You just seem so... I don't know," he mused, his fingers trailing up your spine. "Innocent."

That made you scoff, your smirk widening. "That's your mistake, then."

Fiyero's grin turned downright wicked, his hands squeezing your hips as he pulled you even closer, his breath hot against your ear.

"Oh," he murmured, voice low, dark with promise. "I'm definitely going to have fun proving myself wrong."

The room felt warmer now, the air thick with something heady. Fiyero's hands were firm against your waist, fingers teasing at the hem of your shirt as he watched you with that dark, knowing smirk. There was no rush in his movements—just confidence, a slow unraveling of anticipation, a game he was savoring.

You didn't stop him.

You let him push the fabric up, let his fingers skim over your skin, warm and deliberate as he peeled your shirt away and tossed it aside. The cool air ghosted over your now-bare chest, but it was nothing compared to the heat of Fiyero's gaze as he took you in, his lips parting slightly, his hands smoothing over your sides with an appreciative hum.

Then, before you could think too much about it, before you could catch up to the shift in his expression, he moved.

His lips found your skin—hot, soft, teasing—as he pressed slow kisses along your collarbone, working his way downward. His breath fanned over your chest, sending shivers down your spine as he trailed lower, lower, his hands gripping your hips just tight enough to make your pulse stutter.

Then, his mouth closed around your nipple, and a sharp jolt of heat shot through you.

A low, involuntary sound escaped your throat as his tongue flicked over the sensitive skin, slow and deliberate, testing what made you react. His lips curled slightly in satisfaction at your sharp inhale, and he did it again—this time with more intent, his teeth grazing just enough to make your fingers twitch.

Your hands, which had been gripping the sheets at your sides, moved on instinct. They tangled into his hair, tugging slightly as you exhaled a shuddering breath, your body arching just a little under his touch.

Fiyero hummed in approval, the vibration sending another wave of pleasure through you. His hands slid lower, fingers tracing patterns against your sides as his mouth switched to your other nipple, his tongue teasing, working you over like he had all the time in the world.

And maybe he did.

Because, judging by the satisfied gleam in his eyes when he finally looked up at you, he was nowhere near finished.

The air between you was electric, thick with heat and something far more intoxicating than just lust. The last scraps of clothing had been discarded, forgotten, leaving nothing between you but the weight of anticipation.

Fiyero towered over you, his body lean and golden in the candlelight, his chest rising and falling in slow, controlled breaths. His hands rested lightly at his sides, fingers flexing as he watched you—watched you with dark, half-lidded eyes, full of heat and satisfaction at seeing you exactly where he wanted you.

On your knees.

The flickering glow of the room cast shadows over his skin, emphasizing every sharp line of his torso, every curve of toned muscle leading down to the heavy, aching dick but standing proudly before you. He was already hard, thick and flushed, the evidence of his arousal obvious, impossible to ignore. And gods, he knew it.

His lips curled into a slow, knowing smirk as he looked down at you. "You look good like this," he murmured, voice dripping with amusement and something more sinful.

You didn't dignify him with a response—at least, not with words. Instead, you leaned in, your fingers wrapping around the base of his dick, feeling the warmth of him, the way he twitched slightly at your touch. That wiped some of the smugness off his face, though the satisfaction only deepened in his gaze.

Fiyero let out a slow breath, his hand sliding into your hair, not forcing, just there, lingering, waiting.

And then, you parted your lips and took him in.

The first drag of your tongue along his dick made his breath hitch, his fingers tightening slightly in your hair. You worked slowly at first, savoring the way he responded—the subtle way his stomach tensed, the soft groan he let out as your mouth wrapped around him properly.

"Fuck," he exhaled, his voice slipping into something rougher, less controlled.

You hollowed your cheeks, taking him deeper, feeling the weight of him against your tongue. Fiyero's grip in your hair tightened just enough to send a thrill down your spine, his hips twitching slightly forward before he caught himself.

His head tilted back for a moment, his lips parting as he let out another low groan, before looking back down at you through heavy-lidded eyes.

"Shit," he murmured, his smirk still there but weaker now, his voice ragged. His thumb brushed over your cheek, a slow, reverent touch. "And here I thought I was supposed to be the one ruining you tonight."

Fiyero's fingers tightened in your hair, not forceful, but guiding—his touch firm, confident, completely in control. His breath hitched as your tongue dragged along his dick, slow and deliberate, tasting him, feeling the weight of him against your lips. His body was warm, his skin flushed, his muscles taut beneath the golden glow of candlelight.

"Just like that," he murmured, his voice low, rasping with pleasure. His thumb traced along your cheek as he tilted your head slightly, adjusting the angle, guiding you exactly how he wanted.

You followed his lead, hollowing your cheeks as you took him deeper, feeling him twitch against your tongue. His reaction was immediate—a sharp inhale, a quiet groan that sent another rush of heat through your own body. His hips shifted, just slightly, his restraint evident in the way his fingers trembled against your scalp.

"Fuck," he exhaled, his grip flexing as he stroked your hair, his thumb brushing along your jaw in a touch that was almost tender despite the intensity between you.

You licked again, swirling your tongue around the head of his dick before taking him deeper, your hands gripping his thighs for balance as you let him set the pace. His breath came in heavier now, his control fraying with every flick of your tongue, every slow, wet drag of your lips.

His head fell back briefly, his throat exposed, his chest rising and falling in deep, ragged breaths. Then his gaze dropped to you again, heavy-lidded, dark with desire, his smirk returning—lazier this time, more affected.

"Look at you," he murmured, his voice thick, dripping with satisfaction. His fingers traced the line of your jaw, tilting your face up slightly so he could watch you work. "So fucking pretty like this."

You hummed around him, feeling the way his body tensed at the sensation, and he let out a sharp, breathy chuckle, his grip tightening again.

"Shit," he muttered, his voice rasping, his control slipping just a little more. His fingers flexed in your hair as he groaned, rolling his hips just barely forward, chasing the heat of your mouth.

He was close. You could feel it in the way his breath hitched, the way his muscles strained, the way his grip on you faltered between restraint and the desperate urge to pull you down completely.

And gods, you wanted to see him come undone.

Fiyero suddenly pulled back, a sharp exhale leaving his lips. His blue eyes, dark and blown with desire, locked onto yours as he reached down, his strong hands sliding under your arms, over your waist, and down to your thighs.

Then, with effortless strength, he lifted you.

A startled gasp escaped you as he pulled you up to your feet, barely giving you time to steady yourself before his lips crashed against yours. The kiss was fierce, hungry, his mouth moving against yours like he was determined to claim every inch of you. His tongue slid past your lips, deepening the kiss as his hands roamed lower, gripping your thighs, pulling you even closer against him.

Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, your breath hitching as he hoisted you up with ease, holding you firmly against his body. His skin was hot beneath your fingertips, his muscles tensing as he adjusted his grip, pressing you back against the nearest surface—the cool wood of the wall a stark contrast to the heat radiating from him.

Fiyero groaned into your mouth, his fingers digging into your thighs as he held you effortlessly, his broad shoulders supporting your weight as if you weighed nothing at all. His lips trailed from your mouth to your jaw, then lower, nipping at your throat, savoring every sound you made, every tiny reaction.

His hips shifted, and you felt it—the hard, aching length of him pressing between your legs, sliding against your skin as he adjusted his stance.

"You ready for me?" he murmured, his voice rough, teasing, full of dark amusement. His lips ghosted over the shell of your ear as he rocked forward again, his dick sliding against your hole, teasing you, making your breath catch.

He grinned against your neck, his voice thick with satisfaction. "Because I promise—I'm going to make this worth it."

His hands flexed against your thighs, gripping you tighter as he lined himself up, the anticipation making your pulse thunder in your ears. You could feel the heat of him, the sheer size of him, and you swallowed hard as he rolled his hips just slightly, just enough to press against you, just enough to make you want more

And then, with a slow, deliberate motion, he began to push in.

Your back was pressed against the cool, solid wood of the wall, a sharp contrast to the heat radiating from Fiyero's body as he held you in his arms. His grip was strong, secure, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thighs as he kept your legs spread wide, completely at his mercy. His breath was hot against your skin, his lips brushing along the curve of your jaw, teasing, savoring the way you trembled beneath him.

His body pressed flush against yours, his toned chest firm against your own, the warmth of his skin seeping into you, making your head spin. And between you—him. Hard, thick, ready, pressing insistently against your hole, teasing you, making the anticipation coil tight in your stomach.

"Relax," he murmured, his voice a low, velvety promise against your ear. His lips curled into a smirk as he rocked his hips forward, the head of his dick pressing just barely inside. "I've got you."

His fingers flexed against your thighs, gripping you tighter as he pushed forward, slow and deliberate, stretching you inch by inch. A sharp gasp escaped you as the pressure built, your body instinctively tensing around him, adjusting, taking him in.

Fiyero let out a low groan, his head dropping to your shoulder as he stilled for a moment, letting you breathe, letting you feel every inch of him. "Fuck," he exhaled, his voice rough, strained with pleasure. "You feel incredible."

He shifted his stance, pressing you harder against the wall as he buried himself deeper, filling you completely. The stretch was intense, overwhelming, but there was pleasure beneath it, a slow-burning heat curling through your veins as he gave you time to adjust.

His lips found yours again, his kiss slower this time, more indulgent, as if he wanted to drown in the moment, in the feeling of you wrapped so tightly around him. His hands slid up your thighs, gripping your hips, grounding you before he pulled back just slightly—only to thrust in again, deeper this time, stealing the breath from your lungs.

A strangled moan escaped you, and Fiyero grinned against your mouth.

"There it is," he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction. "I knew you'd sound beautiful like this."

And then, with another slow, deliberate roll of his hips, he really started moving.

You were starting to understand.

Why people were so obsessed with Fiyero.

Why they whispered his name in the halls, why they giggled behind their hands whenever he passed by, why so many threw themselves at him, hoping—aching—for even a fraction of his attention.

Because Fiyero didn't just take. He didn't just fuck.

He devoured.

His body moved against yours with practiced ease, every thrust calculated yet effortless, filling you completely, setting your nerves alight with every deep, rolling motion. But it wasn't just the way he moved—it was the way he spoke.

His voice, low and velvety, curled around you like warm honey, thick with satisfaction, amusement, and something dangerous.

"You feel so fucking good," he murmured against your skin, his breath hot against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. "So tight, so perfect around me."

His hands gripped your thighs, keeping you spread wide for him as he pressed you harder against the wall, his pace slow but deep, forcing you to feel every inch of him.

And gods, you felt it.

His lips brushed against your neck, his teeth grazing over your pulse as he chuckled, dark and knowing. "You're taking me so well," he praised, his voice thick with heat. "Didn't think you would, but here you are—so fucking eager for me."

A strangled moan tore from your throat before you could stop it, your fingers clenching against his shoulders.

Fiyero grinned.

"There it is," he purred, his thrusts quickening just slightly, the pressure mounting, the pleasure building. "Don't hold back on me, love—I want to hear you."

And fuck—fuck—you couldn't hold back anymore.

Because every snap of his hips sent fire licking up your spine, every filthy word that left his mouth sent another jolt of pleasure coursing through your veins, and every teasing, knowing laugh he let out made you crave more, more, more.

You understood now.

Fiyero didn't just get inside your body—he got inside your head.

And the worst part?

You wanted him to.

Fiyero's grip tightened on your thighs as he pulled back slightly, his movements still slow, deliberate, teasing. His lips curled into a smirk against your skin, his breath warm as he murmured, "As much as I love having you against this wall, I think we need somewhere... more comfortable for what I have in mind."

Before you could process his words, he moved.

With effortless strength, he adjusted his hold on you, keeping you securely in his arms as he carried you across the room. His bare chest was firm against yours, the heat radiating from his skin making your pulse pound in anticipation.

Then, the world tilted slightly as Fiyero lowered you onto the bed, the cool sheets a stark contrast to the warmth of your flushed skin. He hovered over you, his toned body casting a shadow over yours in the dim candlelight, his blue eyes dark with intent.

He didn't rush.

Instead, he took his time, his hands trailing over your body, mapping you out as if he wanted to commit every inch of you to memory. His fingers ghosted over your chest, teasing, his touch featherlight as he traced the sensitive skin beneath your collarbone. His lips followed soon after, pressing slow, open-mouthed kisses down the length of your throat, down your chest, tasting you, claiming you.

"You're beautiful like this," he murmured against your skin, his voice thick with heat. His hands slid lower, gripping your hips as he settled between your legs, pressing himself against you once more. "Flushed, breathless, wanting."

A shiver ran through you at his words, at the sheer confidence in his tone, at the way he looked at you like you were something to be worshiped.

Then, without warning, he rolled his hips forward.

A sharp gasp left your lips as he filled you again, slow, deep, purposeful. Your fingers instinctively gripped his shoulders, your nails pressing into his skin as he began to move, setting a steady, intoxicating rhythm.

Fiyero groaned, his forehead pressing briefly against yours as he exhaled shakily. "Fuck," he muttered, his hands squeezing your thighs, holding you open for him. "You feel so damn good."

His pace quickened, his thrusts growing more insistent, more desperate. But even then, he didn't stop touching you—his hands never left your skin, his lips never strayed far from yours. He wanted you to feel everything, to know exactly how much he was enjoying this.

And gods, you did.

Because Fiyero didn't just fuck—he pleasured. He consumed.

And he was nowhere near done with you yet.

By the time you and Fiyero had finished, the room was thick with the lingering heat of your bodies, the scent of sweat and satisfaction hanging in the air. The sheets beneath you were tangled, evidence of just how much had transpired between you. Your limbs felt heavy, spent, the kind of exhaustion that came not from fatigue but from pleasure so intense it left you breathless.

Fiyero lay beside you, his bare chest rising and falling in slow, steady breaths, his skin still warm against yours. The candlelight flickered lazily, casting golden shadows over his face, accentuating the sharp angles of his jaw, the slight sheen of sweat on his skin, the lazy, satisfied smirk that hadn't left his lips since he had finally collapsed beside you.

He looked pleased with himself.

More than pleased—smug. Like he had won some unspoken game, like he had expected this all along.

You turned your head slightly to glare at him, but the effect was ruined by the way your body still trembled slightly from his touch. He noticed, of course—because of course he did.

His smirk deepened, and he shifted onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow as he lazily trailed a finger down your arm. "Well," he murmured, his voice thick with amusement and lingering desire. "That was fun."

You scoffed, rolling your eyes, though your breath still came slower than you would have liked. "Glad you're enjoying yourself," you muttered.

Fiyero chuckled, and before you could react, he pounced.

In one fluid motion, he rolled over, pinning you beneath him again, his body warm and solid against yours. His grin was wicked now, his blue eyes glinting with mischief as he leaned in, his lips barely brushing your ear.

"Oh, I'm more than enjoying myself," he murmured, his voice a low purr. His fingers ghosted over your ribs, making you shudder involuntarily. "And judging by how many times you moaned my name, I'd say you were too."

Your face heated instantly, and Fiyero laughed, his chest vibrating against yours.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his smirk never wavering. "Admit it," he teased, brushing a loose strand of hair from your forehead. "You loved it."

You huffed, turning your head away in defiance, but the way your lips parted slightly, the way your body still reacted to his touch, betrayed you.

Fiyero grinned.

"That's what I thought."

Fiyero's blue eyes glinted with mischief as he smirked. "You know," he mused, his voice dripping with lazy amusement, "we should definitely do this more often."

You let out a short, incredulous laugh, tilting your head to the side to glare at him. "Oh? Already planning the next time?"

Fiyero grinned, completely unrepentant. "Obviously," he said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. He propped himself up on one elbow, his fingers dragging lightly over your arm in a lazy, teasing pattern. "I mean, I had my suspicions before, but now that I know how good you feel..." He trailed off, biting his lip playfully before continuing, "I'd be a fool not to take advantage of this opportunity."

You rolled your eyes, though the way your stomach twisted at his words—at the way he was looking at you—was something you tried very hard to ignore.

"And here I thought I was supposed to be the desperate one," you teased, raising a brow.

Fiyero laughed, full and rich, before leaning in, his breath warm against your cheek. "Oh, make no mistake," he murmured, his fingers trailing down your waist, his touch featherlight but promising. "I am desperate—for you."

The sheer boldness of his words sent a shiver down your spine, but you refused to let him have the satisfaction of knowing that. Instead, you smirked, tilting your head as if in mock contemplation.

"Well," you mused, tapping a finger against your chin. "I suppose I could be convinced..."

Fiyero's grin turned wicked as he rolled over you once more, his lips barely brushing against yours.

"Oh, trust me," he whispered, his voice thick with amusement and something deeper. "I will convince you."

[musingsofad4ydreamer]

Quite Hours | Fiyero Tigelaar x Male Reader

Fandom: Wicked

Genre: Fluff

Pairing: Fiyero Tigelaar x Male Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 710

~ Requests are open ~ Taglist is open

Prompt: 56) "I will love you forever and when 'forever' ends, I'll love you some more."

The library of Shiz University was always a sanctuary of quiet in the evening. The oddly comforting scent of old books mingled with the soft sounds of pages turning, the occasional pencil scratching against paper, and the glow of ambient lighting that struck the perfect balance between too dim and too bright. Tonight, the atmosphere felt especially conducive to studying, as you were the only person in the library.

You had settled into a steady rhythm of taking notes, your pencil moving in a gentle murmur across the pages of your notebook as your eyes flicked back and forth between your textbook and notes. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed the library doors swing open. You didn’t give it much thought, as the library wouldn’t close for hours, but you made a mental note that you were no longer alone. What you failed to process, however, was the striking navy blue and gold outfit of the person who had entered—a look you would have recognized instantly had you glanced up.

“There’s my devilishly handsome boyfriend,” came a familiar, playful voice. Everything clicked the moment Fiyero spoke, and his arms slid around your shoulders.

“Hi, sweetheart,” you greeted, punctuating your words with a kiss on his cheek before turning your attention back to your notebook.

“And what would a pretty boy like you be doing in a library all alone at this hour?” Fiyero teased as he gently turned your head to face him and placed a short but loving kiss on your lips.

“Just finishing some notes for class,” you replied, a small smile tugging at your lips despite your attempt to focus. “I should be done in a few minutes.”

“Mm, but what if I can’t wait that long?” Fiyero pressed a few soft kisses along your jaw and neck, his head coming to rest playfully on your shoulder.

“Fiyero, I really have to get this done,” you said, though part of you wanted nothing more than to abandon your work and follow him wherever he wished to take you. Still, you forced yourself to remain focused—for now. “How about this: you head to your room, get comfortable, and I’ll come over as soon as I’m done. Sound good?”

“Hm, do you promise?” Fiyero’s lightheartedly pleading expression made your heart flutter as he cupped your face with one hand. He knew you’d come; he just wanted to hear you say it.

“I swear.” You smiled, tucking back a stray lock of his golden blonde hair.

“Alright, my love.” With a final kiss on your lips, Fiyero reluctantly left the library.

The moment he was gone, you sighed and shook your head, chuckling softly to yourself. You could still feel the warmth of his touch lingering on your skin. “That man has no idea how distracting he is,” you muttered under your breath, glancing at your notebook.

“Did you say something?” a voice suddenly chimed in. Fiyero had popped his head back through the doorway, a cheeky grin on his face.

“Fiyero, go!” you exclaimed, laughing.

“Alright, alright, I’m going!” he called out, disappearing again with a dramatic wave of his hand.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When you finally finished your work for the night, you made good on your promise after a quick stop at your room to change. Almost as soon as you knocked on Fiyero’s door, he opened it and swept you into his arms, lifting you briefly off the floor.

“Did you miss me?” you teased, your tone laced with playful sarcasm.

Fiyero responded by wrapping his arms around your waist and capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. “Oh, very much so,” he murmured, his words accompanied by a small smile before he kissed you again.

The rest of the night was a perfect blend of joy and tenderness. Fiyero’s endless humor kept you laughing, and his steady stream of sweet nothings made your heart melt as you lay against his chest. His fingers traced gentle patterns on your bicep, his voice low and comforting.

“I will love you forever, darling. And when ‘forever’ ends, I will love you even more,” he whispered, his words sending warmth through your entire being as he kissed the crown of your head.

A perfect way to end the night.

~ End ~

[profeyandere]

𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐁𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

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[angelltheninth]

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SFW - Jin "Jiji" Enjoji Walks You to Class

NSFW - Antinous x Fem!Reader - The Fire in Your Souls

SFW - Giving Sung Jinwoo a Massage

SFW - Morning After with the Greek Gods

SFW - Possessive Yandere CEO Hires You to Be His Secretary

NSFW - Emperor Geta Fucks You During a Feast

NSFW - Oh Sangwoo Marks You Up

NSFW - Hate Sex and Banter with Griffith

NSFW - Male!Kidnappers x Fem!Reader - A Good Girl's Corruption

NSFW - Karlach Eating You Out + Temperature Play

SFW - Sparing and Flirting with Guts

SFW - Kisses for Cover with Dogyeong and Isu Baek

NSFW - Prone Bone with Jinshi

NSFW - Luchino Diruse Loses Control While You're Giving Him a Blowjob

SFW - Coriolanus Snow + Arranged Marriage

SFW - Sung Jinwoo Becomes a Yandere After Getting Stronger

NSFW - Marcus Acacius Wants to Start a Family with You

SFW - Public Affection with Homelander

NSFW - Lucius Verus Breeds You in a Gladiator Cell

SFW - Dating Chat Noir

SFW - Telling Sung Jinwoo That He Means the World to You

NSFW - Solder Boy Bends and Fucks You Over the Table

SFW - Raging when Percy de Rolo and Vax'ildan Get Hurt

NSFW - Making Mickey Barnes a Whimpering Mess

NSFW - Somnophilia with Sung Jinwoo

NSFW - Ao Bing De Fucks You in the Back of the Car

SFW - Public Love Confession from Fiyero Tigelaar

NSFW - Apollo and Hermers + Fingering

SFW - The Love Languages of the Berserk Trio

SFW - First Relationship with Dante, Mary "Lady" Arkham and Virgil

NSFW - Sung Jinwoo Using His Powers to Dominate You During Sex

SFW - Dating a Yandere White Rabbit

NSFW - Size Kink with One Piece Men

SFW - Michael Robinavitch Makes Take a Break From Work

SFW - Yandere Tattooist Falls in Love With You

NSFW - Dante Teasing You While You Ride His Cock

NSFW - Jack Abbot Fucks You in a Medical Closet

NSFW - Reunion Sex with Vash the Stampede

[supercap2319]

A/N: This could be given as a sequel to my last Fiyero Tigelaar fic.

: readmore:

Y/N watched as Fiyero approached him, Galinda hot at his heels. The Winkie prince gave him an easy going smile. This adorable little bookworm would soon be his. Fiyero thought to himself. There wasn't a person alive who could resist him once he turned up the charm.

“Hello, there.” Fiyero wiggled his fingers as Y/N shut his book and laid it down, giving Fiyero an annoyed look. “Hello.” Y/N’s greeting was about as warm and welcoming as a winter frost. Fiyero didn't seem to mind or notice as he gave a small bow. “You're Y/N, correct?”

“Yes, that's correct.”

“Well, allow me to introduce myself. I am Fiyero Tigelaar of Winkie–”

“–I don't really give a damn who you are.” Y/N said.

The whole student body shared a collective gasp of shock. They had watched as Fiyero approached Y/N, only for the Upland boy to reject him. What was wrong with Y/N? Even Galinda was appalled by her brother's actions. “Y/N, how can you be so rude?” She admonished. “Fiyero is new here, and you're…you're…”

“You're a breath of fresh air.” Fiyero smiles.

“What?!” Everyone asked. Even Y/N was shocked by the Prince's unbothered attitude of how Y/N addressed him. Fiyero nods and smiles. “Yes, a breath of fresh air if you will. I've been to many schools to get swarmed by people who only say things that I wanna hear. It's refreshing to have someone have their own opinion for once. Tell me, Y/N. What are you doing out here?”

“Reading?” Y/N held up his book. “I trust you've seen one before. Or know how to read.”

Once again, Fiyero laughed as if Y/N’s snide comments didn't bother him in the slightest. Galinda gave an awkward chuckle as well. How could Fiyero be so nonchalant about being insulted? Especially his intelligence. “Well, I suppose I've never had a penchant for reading , but perhaps I haven't been introduced to the right book to captivate my attention.”

“Perhaps not.”

“Why don't you show me to your local library? I'm sure I could find something there with your help.” Fiyero smiles. His blue eyes were dancing with mischief and fun. Before Y/N could tell Fiyero to go jump off a cliff, Galinda stepped in. “Oh, we would be certainly delighted to show you around. Wouldn't we, Y/N?” Her smile was tight, and anything other than a ‘yes’ from Y/N would make Galinda upset.

Y/N sighed and stood up, trying to ignore the triumph smirk Fiyero was giving him at the moment. He began walking towards the Shiz building, not checking to see if Fiyero. “The library is this way, Prince Twinkie.” He continues towards the building as Galinda pulls a smirking Fiyero along. Oh, he was going to like this little bookworm.

They walked into the library, where Y/N spotted his dear friend, Elphaba, and waved as Galinda gave Fiyero a tour of someplace she's never even stepped into before. It was kind of hilarious to watch as Galinda addressed all around. “And this is the book place. There's a collection of rare books around here somewhere. And some medium rare as well.”

“He's looking for a book, sis. Not a steak.” Y/N said.

Fiyero chuckles. “Well, there's certainly many to choose from. What would you recommend, Y/N? A good adventure book? Perhaps something with a little bit of fun?”

“How about a book on the studies of why some people act brainless?” Y/N suggested.

“Tell me. What do you do for fun around here?” Fiyero ignored Y/N’s jab, and walked closer to the other male, smirking at him. Did this guy always have to smile at everything? “You ever been to the Ozdust Ballroom?”

“The Ozdust Ballroom? Are you insane?” Y/N asked.

Galinda gets in between them. “I mean, isn't that place somewhat illegal?” She looks around to make sure no one is listening before whispering. “And scandalocious?”

Fiyero nods. “Yeah, it is both of those things. Yeah. It's also not far from here, which is another plus.” Fiyero said as Boq, the Munchkin boy, trips and drops some of his books into the floor. Fiyero stifles a laugh as he looks down at him. “Whoa. You all right?”

Boq grunts as Y/N helps him up. “Yeah.”

“I'm Fiyero Tigelaar.” He looks at Y/N and winks. “Winkie Country.”

“Oh, Oz.” Y/N and Galinda both say for different reasons. Boq stood up. “Boq Woodsman.” He gets on a stack of books to be at the same height as Fiyero. “Of Munchkinland.” Galinda grabs Fiyero's arm and leads him away from Boq. Great. Excuse me. Good to know. Um, what were you saying again about the Ozdust and fun and you and me?”

“I was thinking of inviting you, and your brother to the Ozdust tonight.” Fiyero said.

“Unfortunately, it's against Shiz rules to go into town after dark. Sorry, Prince Twinkie.” Y/N said, but he didn't sound very sorry about it. Fiyero didn't seem to mind though. “I see that, once again, the responsibility to corrupt my fellow students…” He puts his arms around both Y/N and Galinda as she gasps. Y/N rolled his eyes. “...falls to me. Excuse me.” He grabs a book from a nearby girl, and he accidentally drops it to the floor. Y/N bends down to pick it up, but Fiyero puts a black riding boot on top of it. Y/N looks up as Fiyero shakes his head no.

“The trouble with schools is…” Fiyero began.

“Not a damn song.” Y/N whispered to himself. It seemed like everyone at this school could sing and dance like some sort of musical theater show you'd hear about in the Emerald city. Not in the Shiz library. “They always try to teach the wrong lesson.” Fiyero throws a book over his shoulders, and it lands with a thud. “Believe me, I've been kicked out of enough of them to know.”

Y/N believed that. Fiyero did seem like the type to cause so much mischief and chaos at the schools he previously attended, that they had no choice but to kick his ass out. “They want you to become less callow, less shallow. But I say, why invite stress in? Stop studying strife. And learn to live the unexamined life.” Fiyero easily charmed the librarian as he winked at Y/N, showing off. “Dancing through life. Skimming the surface Gliding where turf is smooth.” He gets on the table and in a very proactive pose starts to jumble around another student's head. Life's more painless for the brainless. Why think too hard, when it's so soothing? Dancing through life. No need to tough it. When you can slough it off as I do.”

The young Upland boy watched as Fiyero Tigelaar of Winkie country, start a whole musical number inside the library.

[jonathanbaileysmainwhore]

UMMM SO FOLK IM NOT ONE TO SIT HERE AND CHIT CHAT THIS MUCH BUT IM GONNA NEED SOMEBODY TO RACK UP ON SOME FIYERO X MALE READER SMUT CAUSE BABY IM FEINING 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙇🏼‍♂️

PLS WRITERS PLS TAKE THIS INTO CONSIDERATION AND PUT THE DESPERATION AT REST WE ARE DEPENDING ON YOU 😭

[itsbensart]

Books, Blushes, and a Winkie Prince

Pairing: Fiyero Tigelaar x Male Reader | Part 1

Summary: Y/N’s day at Dear Old Shiz University takes a chaotic turn when Fiyero Tigelaar, the charming prince of Winkie Country, decides to make him his new source of entertainment. Between teasing smirks, flirty comments, and one stolen moment too many, Y/N’s carefully balanced world—and stack of books—might just come crashing down.

Warnings: Flirty banter and teasing, Light suggestive themes (innuendos), Excessive blushing and flustering, Minor physical touch (e.g., hand kisses, cheek kisses), Slow-burn romantic tension, and an Overwhelming charm from a certain prince.

Notes: Y/C/N - Your Country Name

Word Count: 1,339 words

Shiz University was alive with its usual energy, students rushing to and from beneath the towering spires of Oz’s most prestigious school. Among them, Y/N hurried through the courtyard, struggling to balance an armful of books that threatened to topple over at any moment. The precarious stack earned a few curious glances from passersby, but no one offered to help.

Well, no one except one.

Fiyero Tigelaar, the infamous prince of charm from the Winkie Country, leaned casually against a nearby pillar. His arms were crossed, his posture effortlessly relaxed, as if the world moved at his pace alone. The golden afternoon light caught the sharp lines of his face, and his piercing eyes followed Y/N with open amusement.

A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

“Having some trouble there, doll?” he asked, his voice playful and teasing.

Startled by the sudden voice, Y/N nearly dropped the books. Turning swiftly, his wide eyes met Fiyero’s. The man stood there, radiating a playful energy that instantly put Y/N on edge.

“Oh, I didn’t see you there,” Y/N stammered, his heart racing in response to the teasing glint in Fiyero’s eyes.

Fiyero chuckled, his smirk widening as he took a step closer, closing the gap between them with an easy confidence. “I just happened to be passing by and couldn’t help but notice your struggles. Quite a sight, really.”

Flustered by his teasing tone, Y/N adjusted his grip on the books, determined not to let him get to him. “Haha. Laugh all you want,” he mumbled, trying to sound unaffected.

Fiyero’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he leaned more comfortably against the pillar. “Don’t be like that, doll. I’m just trying to help. Though, I have to admit, watching you struggle is entertaining.”

“Are you always this charming,” Y/N shot back, “or is this a special occasion?”

The corner of Fiyero’s mouth quirked up into a grin, the sarcasm in Y/N’s tone clearly delighting him. “What can I say? It’s a gift. But seriously, doll, what’s your name? I can’t keep calling you ‘doll’ forever, now can I?”

Straightening up, Y/N carefully set the books down on the floor and gave a small, formal bow, though his rosy cheeks betrayed his attempt at professionalism. “I’m Y/N, from Y/C/N.”

Fiyero raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained by his formality. His smirk softened into a more genuine grin. “Well, aren’t you the very picture of formalities? Y/N from Y/C/N. Quite a mouthful. I’m Fiyero Tigelaar, from Winkie Country. But you can just call me Fiyero.”

Tentatively, Y/N extended his hand for a handshake, hoping to steer the conversation back to normalcy. But instead of shaking his hand, Fiyero surprised him by taking it in his own and pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles. The warmth of his lips sent a jolt through Y/N, who quickly pulled his hand back, his face aflame.

“Y-you can’t do that! Especially with someone you’ve just met!” Y/N protested, his voice a mix of flustered surprise.

Fiyero’s grin widened, clearly enjoying the reaction. “Can’t I? Why not? It’s just a harmless little gesture. Unless…” His smirk turned mischievous as he leaned in slightly, studying Y/N’s flustered face. “…it means something more to you?”

“It doesn’t!” Y/N blurted out, his voice betraying his embarrassment.

Fiyero laughed, the sound ringing out in the courtyard. “Alright, alright. I’ll behave. For now.”

Desperate to steer the conversation elsewhere, Y/N glanced up at the dragon clock and gasped. “Oh, look! The time—it’s almost class. I really need to go!”

Fiyero tilted his head, following his gaze. “Ah, you’re right. Don’t let me keep you. Though…” His eyes flicked to the stack of books Y/N was carrying. “You really planning to carry all that by yourself?”

Y/N hesitated but nodded. “Y-yes, I’ve got it. No problem at all.”

“Yeah, no,” Fiyero said, reaching out and grabbing the top few books before Y/N could protest. He balanced them effortlessly in his arms. “Let me take some of those.”

“T-thank you… Are you sure? I don’t want to be a burden,” Y/N mumbled, looking at Fiyero’s confident, steady hands.

“You’re not a burden. Trust me, I’ve carried worse. Now, let’s get you to class.”

As they walked, Fiyero’s smirk returned, his teasing nature still very much alive. He glanced down at Y/N, clearly delighted by how easily flustered he remained. “So, doll, are you always this easily flustered, or am I just special?”

“What makes you say that?” Y/N asked, trying to sound unaffected.

“Oh, come on. You’ve been blushing since the moment I held your hand,” Fiyero said with a chuckle. “Plus, you can barely put a sentence together without stuttering. It’s like I’ve completely flustered you.”

Y/N shot him a defiant look, though his cheeks betrayed him with their persistent rosiness. “Maybe you did. But for the record, I was born with naturally rosy cheeks. My parents said so. It’s natural.”

Fiyero’s grin widened, amused by the explanation. “So you’re naturally rosy-cheeked? Now that is interesting. Makes it much easier to tease you.”

Y/N rolled his eyes and picked up his pace, as if putting physical distance would muffle Fiyero’s words. “You cocky man,” he muttered under his breath.

“Me? Cocky?” Fiyero leaned closer, his grin turning sly. “I’m just telling the truth, your reactions give you away. Besides, I can’t help it if I have that kind of effect on you. It’s not my fault you find me so charming."

Y/N suddenly stopped walking, his jaw tightening as his grip on his bag strap visibly clenched. Fiyero noticed immediately, his teasing grin replaced by mild confusion.

“What’s wrong? Why are we stopping?” Fiyero asked, his voice more concerned than before.

Taking a deep breath, Y/N stepped forward and turned to face him directly. The sudden seriousness caught Fiyero off guard. Tilting his head slightly, he regarded Y/N with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh? Is there something you want to say, doll? Or are you just staring at my handsome face?”

Without a word, Y/N leaned in and gave him a quick peck on the cheek, hoping it would make Fiyero quiet. Fiyero froze, his eyes wide with surprise.

“Now, will you be quiet?” Y/N asked, his voice firm.

For the first time, Fiyero was left momentarily speechless. When he finally found his voice, it was a mix of amusement and disbelief. “Well, I’m speechless. Was that your attempt at making me be quiet?”

“Yes,” Y/N replied simply, his voice carrying the weight of his determination.

Fiyero’s smirk returned as he leaned in closer. “That was unexpected. But effective. Not that it’ll stop me from teasing you later.”

Pausing, his tone softened, a hint of seriousness weaving through the playful undercurrent. “But… you do know there are better ways to shut me up, right?”

Y/N hesitated, his face reddening again. “Like what?”

Fiyero’s grin turned sly, his voice dropping to a low, teasing tone. “Oh, doll, there are several ways. Ways that would require your lips to be elsewhere than my cheek. Ways that would require a bit more… physical contact.”

Y/N’s face turned crimson, the implication of his words leaving him completely flustered.

Noticing his reaction, Fiyero chuckled, clearly enjoying the effect he had on him. "Oh my... You’re already picturing it, aren’t you?"

Y/N’s face turned crimson. “N-nonsense! I’m not imagining things!”

Fiyero laughed again, his grin smug. “Oh doll, there’s no need to deny it. Your flushed cheeks tell me everything I need to know.”

With a satisfied smirk, he turned and began walking again, leaving Y/N standing frozen, his heart pounding and his mind racing.

...

When they finally reached the classroom, Y/N turned to take the books back. “Thanks for the help, Fiyero. I can handle it from here.”

He handed them over with an exaggerated sigh. “Always happy to help. But before I go…”

“What now?” Y/N asked warily, half-expecting another teasing remark.

Fiyero leaned in, his voice dropping to a low whisper. “Just remember—if you ever need to shut me up, you know what to do.”

Blushing furiously, Y/N spun around and hurried to his seat. “We’ll see about that,” he muttered over his shoulder.

Fiyero chuckled, leaning against the doorframe. “Oh, doll… I’ll be waiting.”

To be Continued

A/N : My first ever fic that I finally have the courage to post! I know, it is a drastic change from what I am posting before, a breath of fresh air per say, anything for this charming prince.... I’ve been sitting on this idea for a while, and after tweaking it (and overthinking every detail), I’m so excited to share it with you all. (I'm not sure if there's gonna be a part two of this, let's see....) Until then, thank you for reading.

[malereaderworld]

wicked masterlist

Fiyero Tigelaar

I can’t go out, I’m sick

Boq Woodsman

[boypied]

MISTER POPULAR [part two]

pairings: fiyero tigelaar x male reader

summary: galinda shows up at the male reader's dorm room to find out why he hasn't been in class but is even more shocked to find fiyero lying in his bed.

requested by: me.

mentions: fluff, intimate mlm.

[part one] [part three] - coming soon

News spread like wildfire. Everyone who was anyone was talking about how the Prince of Winky Country was dating a boy from munchkinland. The scandal was almost heartstopping for the many women and men who had listed after Fiyero. "Why would he even like a Wallflower...especially one from munchkinland?" One girl states to her group of friends while making gagging sounds as she starts to mention you. You were too embarrassed to leave the dormitory. You couldn't face everyone. Even some of your Ozian friends stopped speaking to you because of how overcome with jealously they were.

Fiyero tried not to care about what people thought of him, sure he would get stared at, but people still thought they had a chance with him. Girls and guys both thought alike when it came to him. They thought they had a chance to win the Prince, even though they never had a chance with him to begin with. It made him sick to his stomach when he would hear what everyone was saying about you, but he had a standard to uphold. You laid back against your bed, pulling up the warm blanket to cover your body entirely. You would lay there for ages until Fiyero would come in and yank it off you.

"Fiyero," you say in a soft tone as he climbs onto the bed and spoons you. He softly pulls his arms around your waist, pulling himself closer to you, your bodies making contact with each other. Fiyero softly places a kiss on your neck, "Are you okay? You haven't left your room in days. You've never skipped classes before now, " he whispers in your ear, his voice laced in concern. You don't say anything for a moment just feeling his warmth filled presence near you, "I can't deal with all the...words people are throwing at me. Everything they're saying about me, " you mumble out timidly.

"I just don't want to feel like this," you mumble out quietly as you feel Fiyero pull you closer, it's funny in a way how he is comforting you now when only a couple days ago you were the one comforting him. Feeling his presence near you was all you needed to feel safe enough to fall into the dark abyss of sleep. After a quick nap, you hear a loud banging on your dorm room door, causing both you and Fiyero to jump up from being so startled so quickly after waking up.

Fiyero's hand unwrap from around your waist, and the warmth between you both leaves at you stand up and make your way over to the dorm room door. You pull open your dorm room door to be met with a very familiar, very perky girl; Galinda Upland. She invites herself in and gently pushes past your arm as you were leaning against the door frame. You hear a very loud, extremely dramatic gasp leave her lips.

"So the rumours are true.." she says as her eyes dart back and forth from a barely awake Fiyero who isn't entirely sure about what is happening and a very mentally exhausted munchkin. "How could you cheat on me?" She mumbles under her breath as she looks back at Fiyero, "what did you say?" He says in a curious tone, and then her eyes widen, and she lets out a loud forced giggle. "Nothing, Fiyero!" She says, the room falls silent once more as she stands there in the middle of the room quite awkwardly.

"Is there anything in particular you wanted Galinda?" You say softly to her, trying to remain nice. "Dr. Dillamond had a querie on why you both haven't been to class..and being the selfless person that we all know I am, I decided to sacrifice my lesson time to come see where you both have been." She says while staring at you both with a huge smile on her face. You stare at her for a moment before rubbing your forehead, "Galinda, I'm sorry, but surely you can understand why I haven't been too class. Right?" You say in a soft tone to her.

Her eyes widen for a second, and then a small moment of understanding crosses her face. She slowly walks closer to you and pulls you into a big hug, your eyes widen in shock as you notice how a gentle smile has crossed Fiyero's mouth as he sees how much compassion Galinda has for you, more compassion then she has for anyone other than herself. "I understand...and oh my Oz! Do not listen to them." She whispers softly to you.

Galinda breaks the warm embrace between the two of you leaving you still in utter shock, "I will tell Dr. Dillamond that you have caught the ozian sick bug." She says in a gentle tone pulling you into a warm embrace once more until she leaves the room. You slowly walk over to Fiyero collapsing down onto the bed and then you slowly turn your face to meet with his, "what the hell was that?" You say, with a small smile on your face.

Fiyero's hand gently caresses against your soft cheek as your eyes flutter up to meet his, "Galinda is a very confusing girl," He says to you in a soft tone. You adjust yourself and lean on your side next to him, pulling the duvets over the both of you. You smile softly at him as with the two of his hands, he cups your face and gently presses his lips against yours. "I think you need to leave your room and get some fresh air," Fiyero says to you, and a look of fear spreads across your face.

You feel safe in his warmth, "I'm just worried about what everyone's saying about me...about us." You whisper softly to him, his eyes glinting with understanding, "don't listen to them, you have me...I'll be there with you every step of the way." He whispers back to you and squeezes your cheeks and places another soft kiss against your lips. You climb out from the safety and warmth of the duvet, and you throw on some more presentable clothes. Making sure Fiyero wasn't watching.

Fiyero takes your hand and opens your dorm room door. You both take a step forward, leaving the bedroom behind. You take a deep breath, and you both walk into the main area of Shiz Univeristy. All eyes were on you, Galinda notices what everyone is staring at and walks over to you both. She notices how you were holding hands, but after all the judgemental looks, you broke that physical closeness. She gets in between you both and interlocks both yours and Fiyero's arms with hers. "Come sit with me" she says in a soft tone as she walks you both to her table, all the eyes judging you three but especially you.

taglist ~ @starboye @mailmango @ghostking4m @kingchaospostsstuff @crispysoup318 @inhumanshadows @its-ares @gayaristocrat @cronasluvr @irlsamcarpenter @lucerothings1 @gaefaeyae @dqrkhold @sluttyhusband

[dreamersworldduh]

𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐒/𝐓𝐕 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐖𝐒

EUPHORIA

• 𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐎𝐁𝐒

series

HIS AWAKENING — one. two. three. four.

SUPERNATURAL

• 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐍 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑

oneshots

CRAZY, STUPID, LOVE •

TEEN WOLF

• 𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐊 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐄

oneshots

ALL YOURS •

• 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐊𝐈

oneshots

CLUMSY CONFESSIONS •

A CHAMPION’S REWARD ( coming soon )

• 𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐓𝐓 𝐌𝐂𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋

oneshots

HIS BESTFRIEND’S BROTHER ( coming soon )

WICKED

• 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐘𝐄𝐑𝐎

oneshots

A GAME OF DESIRE •

THE VAMPIRE DIARIES

• 𝐉𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐋𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐓

oneshots

HOW ABOUT A BET ( coming soon )

[musingsofad4ydreamer]

Guide Post

Hello, my name is Jay (he/they), and welcome to my fanfic blog!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I've decided to give myself a new start by making this blog my new main for anyone who knows me from my other page.

I have listed important links below such as my masterlist navigation post, my fandom/character list, and a dialogue prompt list if you want to request any. Additionally, I have also listed my request guidelines and any characters that are currently on hold that I intend to write for in the future.

I have also opened a taglist, so feel free to send me either an ask or a DM stating which fandoms you would like to be tagged for (or not tagged for) as well as if you are okay with being tagged in 18+ fics.

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Links

Masterlist Navigation Post Fandom/Character List

My second blog My AO3 My Wattpad

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Most Recent Work: Quiet Hours | Fiyero Tigelaar x Male Reader | 12/24/24

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Currently, requests are: Open

Fanfic Dialogue Prompt List

Requests Guidelines

 I will write…

- Male Character x Male/Gender Neutral Reader - Platonic relationships - Parent Character x Child Reader (purely familial)  - Sibling Character x Sibling Reader (purely familial) - Fluff, Angst, Smut, and Hurt Comfort - Songfics and some AUs (just ask) - Series, Oneshots, Headcanons, and Alphabet Headcanons

I won't write…

- Female Reader Content - Ships - Yandere fics - Pedophilia and/or Smut involving underage characters - Incest of any kind - Forced sex - Pregnancy and/or period fics - Some kinks (just ask)

** As a side note, I’d appreciate any requests to have a general idea about what you would like. It doesn’t have to be extremely specific, but just something to work with.

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Characters currently on hold: | Last Updated: 12/24/24

Barry Allen (DC)

Bruce Wayne (Ben Affleck) (DC)

Clark Kent (Henry Cavill) (DC)

Crockett Marcel (Chicago Med)

Deke Shaw (MCU)

John Frost (Chicago Med)

Mitch Ripley (Chicago Med)

Obi-Wan Kenobi (Star Wars)