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dreamersworldduh · 2 months ago

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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."

#x male reader #jonathan bailey #jonathan bailey x male reader #prince fiyero #prince fiyero x male reader #wicked #wicked x male reader #gay

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supercap2319 · 5 months ago

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Fiyero Tigelaar scanned the library at Shiz University with a smirk on his handsome face. There was a gleam in his blue eyes as something was about to happen. "I see that, once again, the responsibility to corrupt my fellow students falls to me." He announced, and of course, everyone listened.

The Winkie prince was the most sought after person in the whole university. Women wanted him, and even the men, those brave enough to admit it wanted him too. With his charming nature and carefree attitude, how could one not love Fiyero Tigelaar?

Y/N rolled his eyes at Fiyero's announcement, already feeling the effects of a headache starting to form inside his mind at the thought of hearing a well choreographed dance routine with singing. "Not a damn song. I wish someone would invent an anti-musical spell."

Fiyero began to sing. His voice was soft, but powerful as he was building up to a much bigger number.

The trouble with schools is

They always try to teach the wrong lesson

Believe me, I've been kicked out of enough of them to know

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"

Y/N rolled his eyes and went back to his studies as Fiyero told the entire library that the secret to life is taking nothing seriously. How charming.

#x male reader #male reader insert #male x male #biseuxal #wicked #Wicked x male reader #fiyero tigelaar #Fiyero Tigelaar x male reader #jonathan bailey #lbgtq #bi #gay #Winkie Prince

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floatyflowers · 4 months ago

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Male! Glinda x Dorothy's mother! Reader

"Glind?" You ask in confusion, as you look at the good wizard of the south, while your hands are placed on Dorothy, your daughter's shoulders.

"When Dorothy spoke about you, I never imagined that you would be her mother."

"You both know each other?" Dorothy asks in shock.

Glind gives a small, nervous laugh, twirling his wand in his hand, his usual composure slightly faltering.

Her eyes flicker between you and Dorothy.

"Oh, we... we knew each other, long ago, your mother and I went to university together, though I dare say we were more than friends."

Your eyebrows arch, uneasiness creeping into your expression.

"That's one way to put it," you mutter, your grip on Dorothy's shoulders tightening as the memories flood back.

Glind had been the golden star, dazzling everyone at Shiz University, while you had been more reserved, preferring quiet corners and a life outside the spotlight.

You were originally from Kansas but found yourself transported to the land of Oz after an accident.

The Wizard Oz took you in and offered to help you after you told him your situation, he enrolled you into the university of Shiz.

And that's where you met Glind and also Elphabe who had a unique skin colour along with strong powers.

The wicked wizard of the West used to be your friend.

But Glind told Elphabe that you don't want to be his friend anymore after you two got engaged and soon to be wed.

And thanks to Glind's possessive narcissistic attitude, he ruined this friendship.

So, you asked Oz to return back to your homeland just to escape marrying Glind, and he granted you that.

Now that you are back here, you just want to take your daughter and leave.

"Thank you for helping my daughter, but I think we should leave now."

"Wait a second."

Glind speaks, his wand tapping against his palm.

"We have some catching up to do," he says brightly, though his voice carries a hint of coldness

"Dorothy, darling, why don’t you go check on Toto? I’m sure he’s getting into trouble somewhere. Your mother and I, need to have a little... chat."

Your daughter's eyes widened before rushing to search for Toto, leaving you alone with the light-haired Wizard.

Glind moves towards you before grabbing your arms tightly.

"Is Dorothy my daughter?"

#wicked x reader #glinda the good witch #glinda x reader #Male Glinda x reader #genderbend #the wizard of oz #Dorothy #possessive #reader insert #mother reader

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l1tw1ck · 6 months ago

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thinking about guys and monsters with dicks too big for their own good

guys like: Soap, Ghost, Enji, All Might, Steve Rogers, Thor, Clark Kent, Bruce Wayne, Lucas Lee, Whoever You Want

* i dont really write for COD but the guys in there are HOT

top!masc reader

cw: size difference (smaller reader), smut

a monster with a huge dick made specifically for breeding finding himself laying against the cold stone floor of his cave with his cock slapping against his tummy while you, so much smaller than him, fuck him like he was born to be fucked.

or a strong, athletic guy with a six pack and a long list of suitors who wanna be dicked down by him. he doesn't understand how he ended up this way, how the mouth he used only to speak and bark orders in the bedroom ended up being used to suck your cock. How he ended up as a cocksleeve to the puny little assistant he used to tease all the time. How his long, thick, and veiny cock ended up becoming completely useless. How he ended up whimpering and moaning when you would tease him about it. About how cutely it's flopping around as you fuck him. Or how cute it is to see him humping a pillow with such a huge cock.

no one expected a man who towers over everyone and could easily split a person in half if he wanted to be a submissive little cockslut. It was shocking to see the stark difference in his appearance and personality once the alcohol hit. you never even considered him to be your partner, you thought he preferred to give. but what he really wants is to be used. no one would've ever imagined that he'd be so good at sucking dick. or how amazing he looks when he's in subspace

a monster who's very experienced when it comes to sex but extremely inexperienced when it comes to bottoming. a monster who laughs in your face for even suggesting that you top him. a monster who agrees to let you try, thinking you'd be far too small to make him feel good. a monster who merely chuckles confidently when you tell him it's the 'motion in the ocean' that matters. a monster who eats his words and gets his grin wiped off his face once you start eating him out. a monster who comes just from your tongue in his ass. a monster who begs for you to keep going. a monster who shakes the entire ground and scares off anyone nearby with his moans of pleasure. a monster who wishes his cock wasn't so big so he could see you better. a monster who creates a puddle of his own come thanks to a tiny human

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theyloveniahhhhh · 2 months ago

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When I should be talking to guys my age but I keep thinking about men the same age as my dad.

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theendlessbond · 4 months ago

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galinda upland x male reader headcanons

she leaves you for a woman

#wicked 2024 #elphaba x glinda #gelphie #glinda upland #ariana grande #reader insert #reader x character #wicked #male reader

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undercoveravenger · 3 months ago

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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.

#fiyero x male reader #fiyero x male!reader #male reader x fiyero #male!reader x fiyero #male reader x wicked #male!reader x wicked #wicked reader insert #wicked x reader #wicked x male!reader #male reader insert #male!reader #male reader #male!reader insert #x male reader #x male!reader #male reader x #male!reader x

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fernpetals · 4 months ago

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Boogeyman (Part II)

The second part of THIS drabble.

Masterlist

Yandere John Wick x Reader

Warning: Forced proximity, prolonged captivity, forced feeding, details and mention of stalking, patronizing obsessive and creepy behaviour.

As you are forced to spend your days with your captor, you begin to learn more about him.

I do not own this GIF or any GIFs used in any of my fics. Credit to the owner of this GIF

Unedited piece.

The narrative oscillates between the past and present.

On your first day in your new 'home', as he likes to call this prison, you were shaking and sobbing. You refused to look into his eyes. You could not. But he was patient. You were expecting an outburst–even his fist raining down on you, like in all the crime documentaries you have watched and heard of. But he surprised you with his gentle hold, touching you as if you were made of glass, coaxing you to relax.

Instead of relaxing, of course, you were on edge. You had no idea what would make him tick. That was until you refused to eat or drink anything. He was patient at first, taking a bite from the food, trying to prove that it was safe to consume. But you felt so sick, you wanted to puke.

But then, he slammed the plate down and before you knew it, you were on his lap. You screamed and tried to scratch, but one stern look had you frozen.

"You either eat, or I will make you, whether you like it or not." You knew right away that you would not like what he would do to make you eat.

So with shaking hands and trembling lips, you emptied the plate.

John is a patient man, you have come to this conclusion in your time spent here, with him. Extremely patient. But the moment he feels that you are neglecting your wellbeing or putting yourself in danger, he is right on his feet, ready to take any action necessary to ensure that you are healthy, safe and not out of his sight.

"It's such a cruel place for a sweet little thing like you. People would tear you apart and lick the remnants."

He told you on your second day when you managed to gather courage and confront him. All you wanted was to go home. You still want to go home—except you can't anymore.

A fire destroyed your apartment and apparently, they found a burnt-down body with your hair sticking out. More or less, you are dead to the world.

You know whose body it was and that even if the authorities suspect something, you are a cold case, at most.

You cried when he made you watch the news, and while he comforted you, every touch, every word prickled. You lost it that morning, screaming at him about how much you hated him, throwing things at him, trying to keep him away.

But John was calm. Almost stoic---like he was expecting the outburst.

But then, you refused to eat again. You were burning with rage and you threw the plate across the room.

You will never repeat it.

You know the consequences now. You do not want to test his patience.

No amount of rage could keep him from overpowering you. You were in tears as soon as the adrenaline left your body with all the screaming and attempts to scratch him, you had even managed to leave a reddened mark on his bearded cheek.

But that was all, your hands were tied to the bedposts before he pinched your nose firmly, compelling you to open your mouth. Wordlessly, he shoved the food into your mouth. No matter how much you gagged or coughed, he did not let a single morsel spill out, keeping his large paw of a hand firmly over your mouth.

You have not refused food or water since that day.

He was perhaps a bit softer after that---you don't know for sure---you were reduced to a sobbing mess. But his gentle touch almost felt tender.

It changed nothing though.

You still hate him. However, with the lack of human interaction, other than John, you have not crossed the line of 'not being able to stand him'.

You try to keep up with the dates—the calendar in the hallway hall, the digital clock in the living room, and Joh's phone—anything to help you tally the days. But being mostly confined to the bedroom with a lock system customised by him makes it a challenge to keep up.

If you are not wrong, it has been a month since he took you. And you have found a lot more than the taste of his anger until now.

Like your clothes hanging in your wardrobe. Most of your closet contains the clothes and shoes you kept in your online cart or wishlist or perhaps fancied in some place months ago. You never used to be stingy with your money but could manage it well. You could because now, you have nothing to manage other than your emotions and overall mental health.

"How long have you been stalking me?" You manage to gather the courage to ask him one morning.

It is one of the rare times he has let you out of the room, bringing you to the dining table for a meal.

"Over a year."

That's that thing about him---it unnerves you how he never even denies what he has done, nor justifies it. John is not delusional. No, he knows exactly what he has done and he knows he is wrong. He simply doesn't seem to care.

He gazes into your eyes, already anticipating another question. Maybe he can read you far better than you can read him. It makes sense, he has been observing you for more than a year, and you have come to know of his existence only a month ago.

Suddenly, it is difficult to gulp down the food. Your hold on the spoon tightens. It bends so easily under pressure, reminding you how he has detailed everything to work in his favour and against yours.

"I know it is scary, and I know it is difficult for you." He speaks up "But you must understand that I will never hurt you. You are safe here, with me. If I wanted to hurt you, I would have done that by now."

This is perhaps the most he has spoken in one go. He is a man of few words. The silence, the stealth, it unsettles you, but there is not much you can do about it of course.

"You know it is wrong to keep someone against their will, don't you?"

He holds your gaze for a moment of tense silence before responding.

"I have done far worse."

There, your answer and a warning, wrapped in one response.

As if sensing your rising unease and fear, he adds-

"But you don't need to be scared of me." He sounds oddly sincere. No malice or mirth.

But your lips are already trembling.

"How dare you act like this is acceptable?" You hiss out quietly, it's a struggle to speak through the tense emotions coiling in your throat.

You flinch when his hand touches your face, but it does not keep him from cupping your cheeks and wiping away the tears.

"I know this is hard, but you will see one day. This is where you truly belong to."

That makes you break into sobs once more, and you can do nothing when he collects you in his arms, holding you as if he is not the cause of your misery.

At night, you find yourself awake despite it being way past your 'bedtime' as he has fixed. You think, for once, you have been discreet enough to earn yourself some moment of peace despite his arm coiled around your waist and his warm body pressing against your back.

"Why aren't you asleep yet?" His voice is quiet and gruff, making your heart skip a beat.

Of course, he would know.

He can sense the slightest shift in your breathing pattern. He knows when you are asleep and the moment you are awake. Being forced to share the same bed as him, it has taken you a while to be even able to sleep properly.

But John never misses anything when it comes to you. He makes sure you get at least eight hours of sleep, he makes sure you are eating a balanced meal and he makes sure that you have access to every self-care item you are used to and more. It freaked you out when you first opened the cabinets to find the exact brands you use.

The make-up is a different case though. The shades and the overall type remain more or less unchanged, it is the brands that have made your eyebrows raise. They are sitting untouched. What is the point anyway? You are not leaving this house any time soon. Unless you are successful in escaping.

Not that you haven't tried. You have, and each attempt has ended in an epic failure. Finally, you have lost your privacy during bathing as well. Now, it is only a curtain that stands between you and him. And you feel no less than a camper in the middle of the forest, who has a tent between her and a bear.

But you know that a mere curtain can do nothing to save you the day he decides that he has waited enough. And you do not know how much longer he would wait. You see the way his eyes darken every time you wear the dress he has picked for you. And he chooses your outfit every day. You feel the heat of his gaze, the lingering touch, the way he breathes into your neck like he is seconds away from sinking his teeth into your flesh.

Maybe he gets a sense of claim over you by dressing you up as he pleases. You had opposed it initially, determined to stand your ground even though you cannot deny how flattering each outfit is.

"It's either this, or you wear nothing at all. I wouldn't mind that."

By then, you had understood that he was a man of action indeed, he never said anything he did not mean to. So gulping down your rage along with your dignity, you put on the dress of his choice.

And you have been putting on the dress he chooses for you every day since then.

Over a month of your 'stay', you have come to learn that John is a dangerous man, fully capable of hurting you if he wants to (as if his previous actions weren't obvious enough). You have felt it when he chased you down the the hallway on your first escape attempt. You thought you were fast, but his thundering and swift footsteps were faster than your racing heart. You felt his strength when he wrapped his arm around you firmly while you struggled and screamed. No amount of hitting or scratching could move his hold. You felt the weight of it, you felt that his arms could easily crush you if he wanted to. But when you got to look into his eyes again, they seemed amused.

"Nice try, Darling. But please do not make me chase you again, for your good."

You might have not understood what he meant had you not been pinned underneath him with his hardness pressed against your exposed thighs.

You realised that day that you need to be smarter than that. You can’t outrun him, can’t overpower him. Even the house seems to be in the middle of the woods. As far as your eyes can reach, you can only see the vast stretches of green.

Where are you?

You have no idea. He has been so thorough with everything, that it has begun to gnaw at your mind--like a beast ready to tear its way out out and destroy everything.

For now, you can only force yourself to relax in his unyielding hold and imagine that you are somewhere else, in your lover's embrace. Maybe someday, you can be smarter, you can read him without going mad.

Someday.

You tell yourself as you feel his lips on the back of your neck.

The day better come sooner than he manages to push way past your boundaries like he does so subtly now.

******

Shall I write another part? It gets only darker from here. What do you think?

Addition: I have been reading 'Bittersweet' by the lovely @johnwickb1tsch and now that I re-read this part, I see clear inspirations. I apologise for not noticing it before, it has been more or less a subconscious act. There is so much inspiration from your amazing fic, thank you for that @johnwickb1tsch

And those who have not read Bittersweet yet, what are you even doing? Go read the fic.

#yandere john wick #john wick x reader imagine #yandere john wick x reader #dark john wick #keanuverse #yandere male x female reader #dark john wick x reader

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theres-a-body-here · 1 year ago

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Sable: "When meeting new people remember to keep it light and casual. Use our conversation starters if you get in trouble"

(Y/N), nodding along: "Light and casual, got it"

~~~~

(Y/N), throwing themselves at the Killer's feet: "I LOVE SWEATY, EVIL, AND VIOLENT MEN, PLEASE GO OUT WITH ME! PLEASE! PLEASE! PLEASE!"

Screams and yells echo through the realm as the killer frantically attempts to shake off (Y/N) from their thighs

~~~~

Sable, panicking and holding her head: "He's pulling the freak-off card THIS EARLY?"

Mikaela, looking through binoculars: "If he u-turns the topic back to the Mori Rework we might clutch this"

#dbd x reader #dead by daylight x reader #male!reader #dead by daylight #male reader #dbd #slasher x reader #slashers #dbd shitpost #dbd incorrect quotes #incorrect quotes #sable ward #all things wicked #mikaela reid #killers x reader #killers dbd #dbd killer

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boypied · 5 months ago

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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

#fiyero tigelaar x male reader smut #fiyero wicked #fiyero tigelaar #fiyero tigelaar x male reader #x male reader #fanfic #gay #x male y/n #male reader #smut #gay smut #wicked x male reader #wicked #boypied #boypied fanfic

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supercap2319 · 4 months ago

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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.

#x male reader #male reader insert #male x male #wicked #fiyero tigelaar #Fiyero Tigelaar x male reader #jonathan bailey #Jonathan Bailey x male reader #Gay #bisexual #wicked x reader #Fiyero of Winkie country

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bumblesimagines · 29 days ago

Text

Headcanon:

G(a)linda having a crush

Request: Yes or No

Pronouns: She/Her/Hers, F!Reader

Doing far too many headcanons 😭

~~~

Galinda Upland is the very picture of perfection, with her soft blonde hair curled at the ends, her dazzling smile that could sway anyone, and her big brown eyes that can capture any heart. Everyone wants to be her or be with her, and she couldn't have it any other way—well, almost everyone.

She'd been beyond excited to attend Shiz University. There was a whole new world of opportunities opening up for her! She was thrilled at the prospect of reuniting with old friends, meeting new people, potentially finding the love of her life, and, of course, impressing Madame Morrible and becoming one of her students.

From the moment Galinda laid eyes on Madame Morrible, her breath escaped her lungs, and a rush of excitement shot through her body. Madame Morrible had a regal presence, authoritative yet calming, as she took to the stage and spoke into the microphone with a gentle voice. Galinda could hardly contain herself, her body practically vibrating out of her seat. Her eyes refused to dart away from the older woman, and the moment everyone was dismissed to find their dorms, she swiftly wiggled down the aisle.

"Madame Morrible, hi!" / "Excuse me, Madam Morrible!"

Galinda's following words came to a screeching halt as she took in the young woman standing across from her. Her breath escaped her for a second time, and her lips parted, but any words she tried to speak refused to come out of her throat. There was something so... alluring about the young woman. Her eyes fell downward.

"Oh!" She couldn't help the exclamation. "Why so much... black?"

The young woman's lips quirked upward in amusement. Galinda felt her face flush. How odd. "Well," The young woman began, her own eyes roving over Galinda's attire. Galinda straightened her back instinctively and raised her chin, a confident smile spreading across her glossy lips when they made eye contact again. "Why so much pink?"

Galinda's mouth opened and then promptly closed as she tilted her head downward to study her clothes. Well, what a silly question! Why not so much pink? She scoffed softly, mostly to herself, as she smoothed a hand over her skirt. This was hardly her pinkest outfit! It was more lavender than anything. She shook her head, again mostly to herself, and raised it with words finally at the ready only to notice the young woman already walking away in her shiny black mary janes.

"Oh- Hey- W-Wait!"

Swiftly, Galinda rushed after her, the heels of her lavender mary janes smacking against the stone floor. It seemed they had a common interest: speaking with Madame Morrible, who simply continued walking despite their combined stammering. Someone stepped out in front of the young woman, blocking her path momentarily and allowing Galinda to swoop past with a little victory grin. The young woman caught up with her soon after, albeit a little out of breath.

"I am Galinda Upland. Of the, uh, Upper Uplands." Galinda slapped on her best smile, slender fingers adjusting the strap of her bag (a dark shade of pink, of course, but still hardly pink enough to warrant a comment on her favorite color, in her opinion) and eyes flickering to the young woman almost expectantly.

"And I am (Y/N) (L/N)." She introduced herself and then gave a toothless, tight-lipped smile. "Uhm, from Munchkinland, I guess."

Madame Morrible barely batted an eye nor broke her stride. "If this is about becoming dormmates, you can speak with-"

"I don't know her," (Y/N) quickly clarified with a shake of her head. Galinda's lips jutted out slightly. Well, obviously, they were going to be classmates. Didn't that count for something? "I was wondering about your sorcery seminar-"

"I-" Galinda exclaimed, her eyes widening slightly as they flickered between the two. There was a fleeting prickle of panic; was this girl her competition? Oh, but she loved her tights! What a shame. "-am also here about the sorcery seminar. In fact, you might recall my essay "Magic Wands, Need They Have A Point?""

"Well, dears," Madame Morrible chuckled faintly and slowed down her pace to address them, her eyes crinkled with amusement and a hint of familiarity. She reached out toward them both and cupped their elbows, her thumbs rolling over the sleeves as if to soften the blow of her next words. "I don't teach my seminar every semester. Of course, if someone special were to come along..." She trailed off, her brows quirking upward before she continued her walk.

"Exactly! This is why I wanted to talk to you-" Galinda clamped her mouth shut when Madame Morrible continued on her way without glancing back toward them again. Bummer... perhaps Madame Morrible hadn't yet gotten the chance to read her essay? Yes, yes, that had to be it. There simply had to be no other reason.

Clapping her hands together, she spun on her heel to face (Y/N) with an eagerness to have an answer to her previous question, but she found no one standing behind her anymore. Galinda blinked a few times, barely paying attention to ShenShen and Pfannee when they flocked to her sides. She snapped her head around until she spotted that black blazer slipping into an ocean of blue toward the... green lady? How peculiar.

Of course, Galinda had little to no time to figure out more about this '(Y/N) (L/N)' who seemingly only wore dark colors with the saddening confusion over dorm assignments. Elphaba Thropp. The bane of her existence and quite simply the rudest person she'd ever met! And, as if shoving her stuff aside or taking all of Madame Morrible's time or trying to beat her at every assignment wasn't bad enough, she knew the mystery girl.

Galinda wasn't sure how exactly. She wasn't about to go asking her vexing roommate how she knew the girl who could steal anyone's breath away with just a glance, and any attempts ShenShen and Pfannee made on her behalf to speak to (Y/N) were in vain when (Y/N) seemed constantly on the move. She hoped Elphaba invited her over for a girls' night that she could potentially drop in on, but alas, the first week of school was always the most chaotic. Though, it wasn't for lack of trying!

Galinda bit into the raspberry tart, the flavor alone allowing for her tense shoulders to relax into a satisfied slump and her eyes to flutter. She gave a low hum and took another bite, chewing slowly until all her stress and annoyance from the past few days faded away, and she was left on a cloud of pastry bliss. Just what she needed. Her body simply wasn't made to deal with irritating roommates or anything irritating at all, to be frank.

"Oh! Oh!" Pfannee suddenly perked up, his hand shooting out to tap her shoulder persistently. "Here she comes!"

Immediately, Galinda forced everything in her mouth down her throat and washed it down with the juice ShenShen swiftly offered her. She whipped out her hand mirror to ensure her makeup was done to perfectly, but she only got to scan her powdered pink lips before Pfannee was urging her to stand up. She shoved the mirror back into her purse and quickly stood up, catching sight of (Y/N) walking in their general direction with her lunch tray in hand.

Galinda cleared her throat, ensuring to whip her hair back over her shoulders, and sauntered forward in what she hoped came across as nonchalance, her signature smile spreading across her face. "Why, (Y/N)! I was hoping you'd come and have lunch with us. I had the pleasure of reading your take in literature class, and I was-" Galinda blew a raspberry. "-blown away."

"Your table looks full." (Y/N) shrugged, and Galinda whipped her head around to study the table. It was the largest in the cafeteria, and there was barely anyone sitting there! "Thank you for the offer, though, Galinda."

Galinda swiftly stepped into her path when she went to move. "Uh- Well, I mean, I'm sure we could make space." Galinda widened her eyes at Pfannee and ShenShen. The two slid further down the bench until there were at least eight feet of distance between them and Galinda's lunch tray. Galinda looked back at her with a smile. "See! Come, come, I'd love to talk more about your essay-"

"Maybe some other time, sweetheart." (Y/N)'s nose gave a scrunch with her next smile, which Galinda swore looked a little condescending, but she was far more caught up in the sweetheart to care.

There was a new, fluttery feeling in her chest, somewhat akin to what she always felt when she spotted a sparkly new dress through a shop window. Her face flushed again, a heat that spread to the tips of her ears and down to her collarbones until it covered her whole body. Her tongue felt heavy in her mouth and left her to nod wordlessly in response. What was this? Magic? No, surely not.

Her head followed (Y/N) as she continued her walk through the dining hall and then felt a surge of bitterness when (Y/N) set her tray beside Elphaba Thropp. A growl vibrated in her throat, and she all but stomped back to her seat with a scowl. Pfannee and ShenShen hurriedly slid back to their previous spots at either side of her, their glares directed in Elphaba's direction on her behalf.

"I promise you, Galinda," Pfannee turned back to her with his brows scrunched together in determination. "We will make her your girlfriend." ShenShen nodded in agreement, her lips still jutted out and eyes narrowed at Elphaba despite the other girl's indifference.

Galinda could only blink. Girlfriend?

This... sent Galinda into a whirlwind. Girlfriend? What could they possibly mean by that? If anything, she wanted a boyfriend! A dashing knight to sweep her off her feet and carry her off into the sunset, and, as if Oz had heard her, she got just that in the news of Fiyero Tigelaar deciding to attend Shiz. Now that was exciting, and when an opportunity presented itself, Galinda simply had to take advantage of it!

Fiyero is handsome and incredibly charming with his cheeky smile, but no matter how much she flirts and dances and laughs along to his mischievous antics, the spark she was hoping for simply isn't there. She cares for him; it's hard not to, but when he flirts back or gives her a playful wink, she doesn't feel her heart flutter like it should. Like it has before. It's frustrating, and it's not until after the party in the Ozdust Ballroom when she finally sees Elphaba for the brave girl she actually is that she finally begins to accept things.

Fiyero's understanding which is somewhat offensive considering Galinda expected a little more sadness with her rejection, but she's quick to realize the lingering stares between him and Elphaba, so she separately confides in them both while also subtly encouraging them to seek each other out. Their advice is.. conflicting. Elphaba has little to no experience in romance, so she simply tells her to be honest (while dropping some little facts about her dear childhood friend) about what she feels whilst Fiyero tells her to flirt and give a little chase.

She devises her own little plan.

The heavenly smell of the freshly baked cinnamon rolls coming from the plate beside her made her mouth water, but she resisted the temptation of even swiping a little of the icing on her finger to taste. She waited on the smooth stone bench with her legs kicking back and forth in anticipation, the sweet floral smell of the gardens behind her helping to keep her sweet tooth at bay.

There was a whistle then, sharp and just as practiced. She straightened up and lifted the book from her lap until it was at eye level, her teeth briefly biting at her lip as she tried focusing on the sentences on the pages. It looked like gibberish to her, so she presumed whatever random book she'd taken from the book place was in a different language. Her heart quickened at the sound of footsteps drawing near. Yes... Yes...

"Galinda! Hi!"

Not now, Boq!

Before Boq could step any closer, Fiyero appeared almost out of thin air, a jumble of words spilling from his mouth. Boq blinked rapidly at him, his brows drawing together in confusion, but he nonetheless allowed Fiyero to lead him away from the blonde and out of sight. Galinda breathed a sigh of relief.

"You should put that boy out of his misery."

She sharply lifted the book, which she'd lowered in her relief, and hummed in feigned disinterest at (Y/N)'s words. Fingers gingerly grabbed the top of her book, pulling it from her hands to turn it over. Ah, now the sentences were making a lot more sense. Galinda laughed sheepishly and closed the book, heat pooling in her cheeks. (Y/N) arched a brow down at her.

"I haven't seen you here before, Galinda. Mind telling me why you're pretending to read at my spot?"

"Well, technically, this is the university's spot." Galinda pointed out, tossing some wavy hair over her shoulder and straightening her back as she casted her gaze over the cinnamon rolls in what she really hoped looked seductive. "I was, uh, so distracted by these cinnamon rolls, you see. I came out here to study and I brought a snack but, ah, there's just so many. I can't possibly eat these on my own."

(Y/N) hummed, unconvinced, but she slipped her bag from her shoulder and set it down at the foot of the bench. Smoothing out the back of her brown plaid skirt, she took a seat on the bench and crossed one leg over the other. "I guess I'll help you finish them." She said, reaching into her bag to pull out a notebook. "But I'm studying, so I can't get my fingers messy, and I don't see any utensils..." She eyed the plate. Galinda swallowed. Crap. "Guess you'll have to feed me."

"What?" Galinda said breathlessly.

"You wouldn't mind, would you? Unless you'd prefer to hurry over to the dining hall across school and come back with-"

"No need!" Galinda chirped, reaching down to pinch and tear a piece of the cinnamon roll. "Open up!"

It felt oddly domestic to raise her hand and extend it out toward (Y/N), her breath halting in her chest in anticipation. (Y/N) flipped her notebook open to a blank page, almost drawing out the moment, before she leaned forward. Galinda made a soft, strangled noise in the back of her throat when (Y/N)'s mouth wrapped around her fingers. She released a shaky exhale and watched her lean back to chew slowly.

"Mm." (Y/N) nodded. "Really good."

"Mhm."

"By the way, and not to put El on the spot, but I was told about your little.. crush." (Y/N) licked some icing from the corner of her mouth, her nonchalant words leaving Galinda struggling to find words again. She chuckled under her breath and took out a pencil, inspecting the tip before she began writing. "I've always thought picnic dates were a cute idea. Maybe this could count as one in a way."

"Date?" Galinda blinked and then felt a smile spread. "Yes! Yes, yes, a date. This is- it was always my intention. From the very start, yes. Date."

#x reader #x you #x y/n #x male reader #wicked #wicked x reader #wicked x you #wicked x y/n #galinda upland #galinda upland x reader #galinda upland x you #galinda upland x y/n #glinda upland #glinda upland x reader #wicked x female reader #galinda upland x female reader #glinda upland x female reader

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l1tw1ck · 16 days ago

Text

Denial

Omega!Bottom!FTM Kenma x Alpha!Top!Male Reader

Kenma couldn't force himself to think about any hot girls whenever the two of you would get off using each other's bodies. Not even that hot domme he saw on twitter could beat you.

🏐 Word Count: 2,021 🏐

AFAB Language Used | (had this in my drafts since DEC.. i forgor)

CW: Mild Dub-Con, Thigh Fucking, Oral Sex, Daddy Kink, Praise Kink, Voice Kink, Virginity Loss, Fingering, Creampie

“This is just what best friends do, Kenma.” You reassure him as you rub your cock in between his thighs.

“You're such a great friend.” You groan. Kenma silently stares in between his legs, extremely turned on and intimidated by your size.

You convinced him that doing this is perfectly normal between friends and that you’d be helping each other from getting blue balls.

“So you're into that kind of thing, huh?” You ask, looking at Kenma’s phone. He jumps and drops his phone in his lap. “Hey, don't be embarrassed. Nothing wrong with being into pegging. If it makes you feel better I’ll share my kinks too.”

Then one thing led to another and here you are.

It's risky for an alpha and an omega to do this kind of thing since it can escalate pretty quickly but you're both taking suppressants and you're virgins with absolutely no suitors, which helped get Kenma to agree.

“You just gotta imagine I’m a hot girl, like the one in that drawing.”

“Okay-” Kenma shuts his eyes and tries to visualize the hot fictional woman in the drawing he saw online. He tries his best to focus but the only thing he can think about is you. And how fucking hot you sound. The sound of your labored breaths and restricted moans is more than enough to make him come. Is it strange to get off on a guy’s moans? He slightly opens one eye, just enough so that he can see without you realizing, and shuts it right back when he sees you staring straight at him. Did you open your eyes first? Did you realize he opened his?

You bite down on your lip. “Shit— I’m close–” You warn him.

He opens his eyes. “‘s okay..” He mumbles. “You…you can.”

“Yeah? God, you're the best.” You groan. Kenma shudders and orgasms, his pussy longing for you to be inside it. He watches as spurts of cum splatter on his stomach and on the band of his sports bra. He wants to taste it. He wants it inside him. “Did you come?” You ask, wiping him off with a tissue.

“yeah-” Kenma says shakily, leaning back. “We…we should do it again..another time..”

“Agreed. This is so much better than getting rejected all the time.” You grin.

Kenma hugs your pillow as your cock slides back and forth in between in his ass. He’s once again only in his underwear. He has a vibrator, one part stuffed up his cunt and the other pressed against his t-dick. Kenma knows deep down he doesn't need the vibrator and that he could go multiple rounds just with your cock sliding against him but he doesn't want to admit that or worse, admit it to you.

You're under the impression that Kenma’s watching porn with noise cancelling headphones but in reality, the audio is muted and the noise cancelling feature is turned off. It's not gay to like the sound of a guy pleasing himself…it's basically the equivalent to watching porn with a guy who isn't afraid to moan.

“That's it– just lay there while I use you…like a good boy..” You resist the urge to slap his ass.

Kenma bites down on his lip. He’s glad you can't see his face or else you’d realize he doesn't give a shit about the random porno he has playing on his phone.

“So good for me…so fucking good..”

He whimpers quietly, his cheeks red. It’s hard to justify the arousal he’s feeling. He can't even convince himself that he's imagining some random girl saying that to him. He's getting turned on by you, your voice, your hands, your cock, your scent. He really wishes it was him you were thinking about. Then he wouldn't feel so weird.

Kenma’s toes curl when he hears your about-to-come voice. The slight change in pitch and your breathlessness is just what he needed to hear to push him over the edge.

“So good for daddy..” You groan. Nevermind, that is what he needed. Kenma squirts, shaking heavily. You come just seconds later.

You slowly breathe in and out, staring at the cum splatter on his back. There aren't many things more erotic than this. Your eyes trail down to his clothed pudgy cunt, a patch of his gray underwear darker than the rest, making you realize he squirted. God, you wish you could just stuff your face in that.

Kenma turns around and takes off his headphones. “I’ll shower first.”

You lean back into Kenma’s couch and look at him as he's avenging your character's death in the game you're playing. You wonder what he really thinks about all this. “Hey…I’m curious..”

“Hm?” Kenma hums.

“Can I touch you? Like…more than usual?”

He keeps playing the game despite his surprise. “If you want to.” His cheeks are red. “I don't mind doing whatever…cause we’re best friends, like you said.”

“Really? So I could like…finger you and that’d be okay?”

“Yeah.” His voice cracks a bit. “You could go all the way..if that's what you want..”

“Wow…okay.” You gulp, slowly inching towards Kenma. You hesitantly place your hand on his thigh before sliding it inside his shorts. He does his best to keep fighting the boss while your fingers explore the space between his legs. “Is this okay?”

“Mhm-” He nods, losing focus as you reach his dick. He lands the final hit on the boss and pauses the game. He can feel your heavy breaths.

“You're so wet— sorry.”

“‘s fine. You can…you can talk.”

You feel more confident now. “I just started and you're already this worked up..” You murmur, sliding a finger inside him. “See how easy that was..” You slowly add a second one. Kenma leans back. His heart is beating so loudly. He sets his controller next to him, then roughly grips the arm of the couch. Your fingering skills need work but Kenma definitely can't tell.

“Uh~ Daddy~” Kenma moans, a bead of sweat drips down his forehead. The noise you made in response makes him shudder.

“Say it again.” You breathe out, somehow finding his g spot.

“Daddy!” He cries out, his cunt aggressively squeezing around your fingers.

“Good boy.” You take your hand out of his pants. The two of you look at each other for a few seconds before turning away. You’ve both decided to ignore the elephant in the room.

“I- I’m gonna…. clean up..” He says, standing up abruptly.

Kenma figures that since you’ve basically given up on getting a girlfriend, he no longer has to feel bad about his arousal towards you. He can just give you everything a romantic partner provides without even having to tell you about his feelings. It's perfect.

“You did really well today.” Kenma holds your hand, pulling you inside your hotel room. “We're going to the quarterfinals ‘cause of you.” He pushes you against the door. He pulls your shorts down while getting onto his knees. He kisses your length and tucks his hair behind his ear.

“This is so much better than an after party.” You throw your head back as he sucks your cock. He makes good use of his tongue as he takes all of you in his mouth. Kenma’s head bobs up and down while he humps his hand.

The two of you jump at the sound of knocking at the door.

“Hey!” Kuroo calls out your name. Kenma knows he should get up and hide in the bathroom but he just can't pry himself away from your cock. You grab a fistful of Kenma’s hair and push him further along your length, letting him know you don't want him to leave either. “You're not coming to the party?” He jiggles the door handle. Kenma looks up at you with the most seductive eyes you've ever seen, his tongue swirls around your cock.

“Are you asleep?” He knocks again.

“I’ll be there later!”

“You better be! You're the reason we're celebrating! And tell Kenma to come too!” Kuroo leaves.

The adrenaline rush makes your cock erupt like a volcano in Kenma’s mouth. Kenma swallows it all then stands up. He leans into your ear. “I’ll give you something else after the party.” He smiles, making his way to the bathroom to freshen up.

As soon as you get back to the hotel room, you press Kenma against the door, reversing your previous positions. You couldn't stop the guys from getting you drunk. You forgot you're not supposed to drink alcohol when you're taking suppressants and now you're extremely horny. “Sorry, Ken-” You mumble with your face buried in his neck. “You're such a good friend for me…so fucking good, baby.” You quickly expose both of your lower halves and grab Kenma’s legs, your dick throbbing against his pussy.

“Wa- wait-” Kenma looks down. He was planning for this but he didn't anticipate you acting like this. He's only a little tipsy but he can tell his scent is making you drunker. And your strong pheromones definitely aren't helping him suppress his own.

“You can handle it, Ken, it won't even hurt.” You slowly align the tip of your cock with his entrance. “‘Cause your pussy’s made for me. It’ll fit.”

His cheeks are burning hot. He knows you're super drunk and super influenced by your arousal and his pheromones but hearing that makes his heart flutter. He is made for you. Every part of him. It won't hurt. “Ye- yeah- it's made for you.” He watches your lips curl into a smile.

“That's right.” You slowly slide inside him without much resistance. “There we go…there we go, baby.”

Kenma digs his blunt nails into your shoulders and presses his head against the door. It does hurt but it's not as bad as he thought. He moans your name. None of the dildos he's used could even come close to your cock.

“Fuck—” You moan. You sink your teeth into his neck. Kenma gasps, his eyes widening. You marked him. He bites down on his lip and grins as you bottom out. He knows it's wrong but he's so glad you marked him. Now you have no choice but to stay with him. You belong to him.

You thrust into him slowly. “You feel so good..”

He moans your name. “Yes- yes– like that—” He loves the pace you're going at, it gives him the opportunity to really take you in properly. He doesn't even care if his teammates can hear him. He's too happy. “Daddy~”

“‘M gonna knock you up, Ken…breed you til you're full.” You grow.

“Yes! Breed me~!” Kenma squeals. He rolls his eyes back and moans shamelessly. He's already gonna come.

You quicken your thrusts. “Mine.” You both reach your climax at the same time, his pussy happily takes in your seed.

You slowly open your eyes. Kenma’s next to you fast asleep and wearing your shirt. Your memories of last night are foggy. All you remember is fucking Kenma and marking him. You wonder if he’s mad at you. You hope not...this is what you wanted all along. You didn't plan for it to happen so soon though.

He wakes up thanks to you shuffling out of bed. He says your name sleepily.

“Sorry, I didn't want to wake you up.”

“‘s fine.” He sits up. “Last night…”

“I…I barely remember it, but I know I marked you..” You stare at the teeth marks on his neck. “I’ll take full responsibility. You're my best friend so I won't abandon you.”

“Thanks..” He smiles softly. “I don't mind. It's better than dealing with rejection and break ups, right?”

“Right.” You nod, smiling back.

“Can you help me shower? My legs are sore.”

“Of course." You pick him up.

The team stares at you and Kenma as you sit down for breakfast. They're almost done eating. Kenma’s ears are bright red.

“Soo…” Kuroo pokes the last chunk of his food with his fork. “Should we be worried about…a baby….?”

#wicks🕯works #top male reader #male reader #ftm character #dom male reader #sub kenma #bottom kenma #kenma kozume smut #kenma x male reader #kenma kozume x reader #tw dubious consent #male reader smut #kenma smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x male reader #haikyuu smut #alpha reader #omegaverse

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ctghost · 4 months ago

Text

Saw john wick 4 and i HAD to draw him !! Those suits are literally the best. Also read some headcanons & yandere marquis hcs by @sweet-as-an-angel though this can be seen as non-yandere :3 lol

This may be a lil ooc but i can't help it (if you can't tell, i was a lil lazy and not creative when making reader's design so they're just white paper-like 😔 i had so much fun coloring marquis suit, and i think i found the perfect way to capture his suits glittery texture🙂‍↕🙂‍↕ so yay for me🎉)

#bill skarsgård #marquis vincent de gramont #marquis de gramont #vincent de gramont #bill skarsgard #bill skarsgard x reader #john wick chapter 4 #john wick fanart #bill skarsgård x reader #vincent de gramont x reader #yandere male #john wick 4 #can be seen as yandere or not #my art

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nouearth · 2 years ago

Text

a business trip.

john wick x male reader.

warnings: smut, alcohol, blowjob (r receiving), fingering (r receiving), dirty talk, rough!sex, breeding, unprotected!sex, top!johnwick, bottom!reader.

request.

the soft tune of jazz—a sonata that you were never particularly fond of—became comforting in your solitude. though a piano was absent, hidden stereos were more than adequate as you gathered the ambiance would’ve been more or less the same if a pianist had performed.

in the sleepy hours of the continental hotel, patrons of the lounge kept their conversations low, indescribable murmurs to your ears as you sipped on your drink—warm and smooth down your throat.

the time on your phone flicked to midnight, and day two commenced. you came on a business trip. if you could, you would’ve rejected the offer to come to new york, especially when it took away time from your dog. but the rascal was spoiled, and that unfortunately meant you had to step out of your home office once in a while—all to keep her spoiled.

but who ever said you couldn’t have a little fun during your trip?

the seats at the bar were unoccupied except for yours. clients preferred sitting in something that supported their back, you presumed, but that didn’t stop a gentleman from taking a seat next to you.

oh, wow. maybe the lady was right… this cologne is a dick magnet.

unbeknownst to you, his favorite seat was occupied and he was petty—though only slight, because a strong drink to incinerate his stress was his main priority.

“bourbon whiskey,” the gentleman glanced at you, dried blood and cuts lanterned under the muted lights, but his black hair succeeded in shadowing. “please.”

the man didn’t seem phased by the injuries—a nonchalant attitude he maintained—but you were nonetheless surprised. speechless as no one, not even the bartender, seemed to have minded his wounds, the blood stained on his dress shirt, and the purple bruise beating on his cheekbone.

it was… strange.

“uh...” you cleared your throat, directing the sound towards the man to get his attention. he looked, clearly want to be left alone as he kept his gaze front. “sorry, i just… uh… should i be worried about that?”

though he didn’t seem to recognize you, the stranger was hesitant to answer, taking more than a few beats before speaking, low and gritty. “no, just… got robbed.”

“oh, shit, seriously?” you reached for you phone and turned the screen on. ”then, I think we should call-“ before you could take the process to another step, a gentle grasp latched around your wrist, stopping you.

“that’s very kind of you, but i’m fine.” he finally turned to you, a reassuring gaze pierced to your worry before letting go and looking front again.

handsome, even when he’s all beat up. focus, that was not the priority right now.

“dude, you’re bleeding.” remnants of warmth escaped your wrist, but his calloused fingers remained in memory. “you could have a concussion or something.”

“maybe,” the man took a sip of his drink, a simper to his face when it was concluded that you were evidently not from his world. “seemed fine as i walked the way here though.”

“jesus,” you couldn’t pick apart between fact or fiction, especially from a stranger, but he had no reason to lie. you took another sip, watching him and accepting his truth. “did you manage to get a hit on them, at least?”

you missed it, but the man glanced down at the red stain on his dress shirt, small and ruby-ed against the white fabric before taking a sip again. “something like that.”

“hm... i guess i know who to call for a bodyguard when i’m in the city again, then.” the ice between the two of you was slowly melting, puddles of it spreading when you two shared a chuckle. “(m/n), by the way.”

“john.” you can put a name to his face now, and it was fitting. mysterious and aloof, but never intimidating because there was a warmth inside of him that just needed a reason to come out. “never seen you here before, first time?”

“kind of?” by now, the drink has caught up to you and you felt a little more confident, turning your body towards him. “i mean, i’ve been to new york before—just not this hotel. i’m here for work.”

“i see,” when you faced towards him, john never meant to do a double-take. several glances were hidden in between the constant motion of drinking, the heat relieving john’s body whenever he took a sip—he likened it to medicine. “enjoying your stay then?”

but the more john looked at you, warmth began to rise instead. it eventually settled on his chest, neck, and cheeks to his dismay and it does not intent to wear off, no matter how many sips he took in greatest efforts to push it down—in a void somewhere, where he believed his feelings deserved to be buried.

“it could be better.” alcohol was a powerful drug, because you were one-hundred percent sure that the chance of you flirting without a drink would’ve been close to zero.

it came out of nowhere—this feeling. fleeting or not, your pants tightened and you needed a release. if it wasn’t him, then it was going to be someone else. and if you really couldn’t get laid, you’d be content with dry-humping a pillow.

you’ve seen it in the movies before—well, usually from a women—but it should be universally accepted, right? confidence was sexy: show some skin, make your intentions clear, and handle rejection like a real class act.

worst he could do is say no…

“I don’t mean to be crass, but,” you tugged on your necktie, loosening it around the collar, and unbuttoned only the top two buttons. a slight breeze ghosted your neck as it radiated and yearned for lust—kindled further when you downed another drink, a last stop for encouragement, but also a device to handle rejection all at once. “do you want to fuck?”

john watched you stone-faced, but there was clear interest in his eyes—you watched it spread across his dark orbs.

it was telling that you both needed something—a release: you with work and him with being mugged, apparently. your fingers tapped on the counter, impatient for an answer.

after a smooth swig of his drink, john got up and beckoned to you with a small smile. “come on.”

as soon as the door shut, you were backed into it with considerable force—not a single second to spare. you held onto john in blind support, groping at his broad back and hips while john’s needy palms worked at your ass, squeezing tight to aid the erection in his pants.

“fuck.” pressure applied to your clothed bulge as john pressed his hips against you, rutting in irregular rhythms conducted by pure lust, and you desperately returned them, needier as you rubbed into his thigh. your moans caught between his lips when the pair found themselves on you, kissing you with the utmost passion—poisonous, because it stole your breath away.

“i could come just like this.” you spared enough oxygen to breathe out, but later found it swallowed when john kissed you again, eagerly licking the inside of your mouth. his tongue was sloppy, mixing the sweetness of your drink with the burn of his to form an entirely new recipe that only the two of you would share.

complete darkness filled your sight while your neck was then bombarded with rough kisses, only broken when john unwillingly tore himself from your skin to strip himself. it was a tedious process because he was greedy, returning back to your neck and lips whenever a piece of clothing was thrown to the corner of the room.

but you were impatient, as was he, and knew things would never progress if he was submitted under the smell and soft touch of your skin. so you playfully pushed him, squeezing his chest in midst, and constantly knocking him back to his amusement while the glow of the moon became your guide to the bed.

“keep that up,” john held you by the waist again, applying his bare body to your clothed figure, half-undressed with your trousers and shirt left, as you felt his beard against your skin. a gentle brush tickled you, but his darkened, low voice sent goosebumps. “and we won’t make it to the bed.”

“hm.” a hum vibrated in your throat while he kissed your neck again, suckled at his favorite area because he could feel your cock throb against him, desperate to be freed from the fabric.

you watched him in the moonlight as john began undoing your clothes, leaving a wake of hot kisses down your body the more you unveiled before him—cold, but john’s mouth made up for it as it wrapped around you like a warm glove. no warning whatsoever, but you preferred that, shuddering when he worshipped your body like a knight to a prince; calmed caresses to your calves while he polished your cock with godly licks.

john’s fingers spidered up your legs and his palm found its way to your ass again, spanking one cheek hard enough for you to suddenly thrust your cock into his mouth and down his warm throat. “oh, fuck-“

he moaned around you, vibrations riding your thick veins as it would take a electrifying trip up north until you moaned, pleaded with him to be fucked—to no avail, simply because he was stubborn.

briefly, john let you go with a slimy pop to stroke you, standing back up to kiss you in midst. you tasted yourself, the saltiness of your pre-cum lining your taste-buds as his tongue ran over yours in a wet and sloppy affair. “god, you taste so good…”

simultaneously, your hand worked at his cock, under-handing the weight of it with slow strokes—to the intimate arousal of your sluggish tongues moving with one another. it wouldn’t be long until you found yourself pressing into him again, gliding your wet cock against his, spreading and sharing john’s thick saliva between the two muscles.

your lips never his, neither did your hand on his cock—both of your cocks now, clumsily stroking—even when john began to prod at your hole with his finger, lubed up seconds before, teasing. only then, you pulled away when his finger slid into you with careful ease, and you flushed forward.

he embraced you with one arm around your body, holding you still while he worked you open, curling inside of you deeper with quickening intervals. you could practically come undone from this, but you refrained from doing so, distracting yourself with kisses to john’s chest, then his nipples, sucking hard to counter the overwhelming pleasure.

but he had the upper hand on you, only realizing when you immediately flexed around him when he pushed into you with another finger—slight difficulty, and so he worked you open once again. though, it doesn’t last long because he wanted to feel the tight stretch you’d provide for him—a heavenly need you’d happily supply.

without any guidance, you bent over the bed and pushed your hips out, and he held you close. you laid there bare before him, looking back completely vulnerable while john toyed with you, taunting your arousal as he slid his cock in between your ass cheeks, wet and sticky from the lube.

“come on…” you almost whined out into the sheets, refraining yourself from wiggling your hips.

his silhouette didn’t budge and he only agitated your impatience even further by tracing your pucker with the plump tip of his cock, slow and teasing with a smirk you could hear. “you want me that bad?”

“fuck,” you were never one to admit things easily, and this wasn’t going to be the start of it. equally as stubborn as john was, you groaned into bed again and used your core to push back at his taunts. you began reaching back amid his continuing tease to grab ahold of his length. “if you’re not going to fuck me, then i’m going to-“

john’s reflexes were fast. as soon as you wrapped your hand around him, he pinned you further into the bed with a firm shove to your back. your chest stung when it rubbed harsh against the sheets and you immediately let go, lying pliant under his force. “you’re going to what?”

you struggled to move—to escape from his hold—but he was stronger in every way possible. every struggle was met with an ache to your body as he barely used a fourth of his strength to hold you down.

and your cock couldn’t have gotten harder.

“I’m going to-“ before you could respond, your throat dried up as john pushed himself inside of you with one slow yet rugged thrust, pushing heat back in, and filling your hole up with more. “f-fuck!” every muscle in your body tensed and you shouted out, almost a whimper.

his cock was thick inside of you. you can feel every pulse, every vein as he worked himself into you, back and forth with deep and slow thrusts, painfully stretching you out. it knocked the breath out of you and your legs wobbled, feeling your current stance weakening as your toes curled into the floor, desperately clinging onto the arrival of your soreness.

but you loved it. you loved how barely prepped you were because you can feel every inch of him reaching deep inside and violating your hole with the uttermost disrespect. he held your wrists together, your arms back and your chest pushed forward while your cock rubbed against the bed, and fucked into you—faster, harder. “look at you, fuck. you take cock like it’s nothing, hm?“

“m-mmm!” you whimpered out in response, your breath hitching as he repeatedly slammed his hips into you, continuously knocking any thought out of you. the painful pleasure was dizzying, finding solace in muffling your moans into the covers. your breath warmed your cheeks as you rocked into the bed from impact, gliding your cock in between the bed and your pelvis along.

there was an ache in your shoulders, in your arms, in your wrists, but john’s cock overpowered every feeling to the point where they became numb. all there was left was john’s rapture and you basked in it. the heaviness of the sex-filled air, the humidity of your bodies when john decided to push his all of his weight onto you and fuck you like you were nothing but a void, the warmth of his breath when he kissed your shoulder and neck, and the sting when he bit.

overwhelming was an understatement of your current state of euphoria. you took him in and overloaded yourself into his pleasure. every thrust, every breath was submerged into you, compelled to mirror even a fraction of the pleasure john felt, and it was only when his cock drove into your prostate with unbeatable force that you did—tenfold.

“oh, fuck! don’t stop,” you cried out, desperate in pushing back against him because you never knew if john would pull away anytime soon. “fuck me just like that, fuck!”

and he doesn’t. john was a man of promise and he delivered your pleas with force and speed, letting go your wrists to spread your cheeks apart and watch you be fucked open with his thick cock, growing more swollen with every passing second. you can feel his balls following his thrusts, swinging against your sweaty skin and creating the most delectable sounds. “like that, yeah? you like my cock, just like that?”

“f-fuck, yes!”

in this moment, you were his, under his control, and selfishly captured when john devastated your prostate with one more powerful thrust to your demands, and you found the stars. they resided in the back of your eyelids as you came—thick and heavy—in between the sheets and your twitching body.

it wouldn’t be long until john joined you in your trip to heaven, his grasp on your hips hard and bruising as he yanked you back and met your ass to his cock one last time in uniting your body with his.

warmth began to fill you as john came undone, shooting deep inside of you. his hips slowed, but never came to a stop as you clenched around him, tight and yearning for his seed, and with that, he milked himself inside of you, giving you all of him and what was left of him—creamy and thick.

his breath was heavy in your ear as he pressed his chest to your back, and you groaned, coming down from the high that you just experienced. sleep approached for the both of you, but he maintained the steadiness of his hips, spreading his load in you as if he was marking his territory.

“so... how long until you’re leaving?”

“mmmph, four more days….”

"good."

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. andif you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

#john wick x reader #john wick x male reader #john wick x you #john wick smut #nou.fics

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