mqteo

[mqteo]

#* –– if you were church; i'd get on my knees | ft zaiden. #* –– musings.

[mqteo]

#* –– if you were church; i'd get on my knees | ft zaiden. #* –– musings. #i gtg

[mqteo]

#luci tag #* –– musings.

[mqteo]

zcidcn:

          – &&. MATEO’S TOUCH FELT like fire against his already-burning skin – but he was far too GONE to react any further. Muscled frame all but SLOUCHED against the porcelain seat of the toilet, forehead PRESSED against the cool surface as a ragged sound RUMBLED somewhere in his chest. It was a noise of mingled PAIN and EXHAUSTION, stomach twisting IMPATIENTLY within him as knots and NAUSEA washed over him mercilessly. A part of him felt ready to HEAVE again, but he swallowed the BILE rising in his throat back again, leaving a sickly BURN in its wake. A shaking hand LIFTED, as if the blonde was on the verge of assisting the other in removing Zaiden’s clothing, before falling away again. The edges of his visions were BLURRING into darkness and his head was POUNDING. Zaiden knew WHEN to cut his losses, and RIGHT NOW, he felt like the world was CRUMBLING around HIM.

          The COOL AIR hitting his flushed skin was enough to pull an almost RELIEVED sigh from the blonde, breaths still a touch SHALLOW and body coiled TIGHT. He licked his dried-out lips, a part of him wanting to ask Mateo for a glass of water – but he already looked too weak. His voice didn’t WORK, his thoughts TOO scattered. He knew asking anything more of the brunette would be pushing whatever boundaries they had left at this point. Instead, he stirred to allow his shirt to SLIDE off of his figure. Mateo discarded it, he knew, and in that moment of BRIEF silence, Zaiden tried to reorganize his thoughts. A part of him wanted to RUN. Run far, far AWAY from Mateo, Mateo’s apartment, his car – EVERYTHING. Wanted to be alone, where he could he could crumble without someone else’s gaze lingering to witness his demise. And yet, on the other hand, something within the blonde couldn’t help but feel as if HE was the ONLY ONE that he’d rather have see him … like THIS. 

          His VOICE, however, pulled Zaiden from his hazed thoughts. A mild GRUNT was all he could manage as BLURRY blue eyes finally fluttered open again. The harsh LIGHT caused him to squint, a muttered HISS under his breath all he could manage before finally casting a glance at the tub. ❝ I… can. ❞ The blonde responded a bit LAMELY, shifting as if he was about to make it up to his feet. He swayed dangerously in the process, groaning LOUDLY as a fresh wave of NAUSEA crashed over him. Teeth clenched together TIGHTLY enough for the muscle in his jaw to jump VISIBLY, but he was DETERMINED. ❝ You don’t HAVE to. I can… do it. ❞ Zaiden pressed on, hand falling to his belt as he swayed where he stood.  For a moment, Zaiden almost FLASHED a ghost of a BITTER smile, turning his head away before Mateo could see it. ❝ You must be SICK of me by now. ❞

sick of him? mateo almost laughs at the suggestion; god, he wishes he could be sick of the other man. it would be so much easier if he was. instead, he orbits zade the way a lesser celestial body might orbit the sun, always hovering on the edge, waiting for the inevitable tug that throws him off course, crashing into each other with the force of the universe behind them. even now, he gravitates towards the taller blond, feet taking him back to where the man stands without conscious thought, an almost pavlovian response to the sound of his voice. “ you can’t get rid of me that easily, hendricks. ” hidden under the edge of teasing in his voice is the distinct timbre of resignation. if zade is apollo then he must be icarus, the foolish, foolish boy, destined to fall in love out of the sky for daring to bask in the god’s warmth. he will drown for his desires, he knows this. 

“ let me help. ” his voice is soft, somewhere between a command and a plea. hands, calloused from years of playing the guitar, come up to cover zade’s. he pulls zade’s hands away from his belt, pressing a kiss to each palm before placing them on his shoulders instead –– a solid weight zade can use to steady himself. mateo works the belt undone with the ease of experience, smirk tugging at his lip at the familiar gesture in an unfamiliar situation. they’re sailing on uncharted waters now, pushing the boundaries of their relationship and mapping the changes. the belt is discarded carelessly, mateo’s gaze never leaving zade’s profile even as he pushes the man’s pants and boxers down. “ you wanna know what’s pathetic? ” he brings a hand up, palm finding defined jaw and forcing their gazes to meet. even with pupils blown wide, the ring of blue is electrifying, the intensity of it a stark reminder of just how magnetic zaiden hendricks can be. “ even like this, i still want to kiss you. ” 

and then he grins, slow and wide, as if he hasn’t just cracked his ribs open and revealed more in that one sentence than he ever has. “ not before you brush your teeth though. i don’t like you that much. ” he moves closer, every inch between them conquered deliberately, as if he’s about to kiss zade despite his earlier words–– before reaching over him to the sink cabinet and retrieving a new toothbrush. he presses a kiss against zade’s bare shoulder, somewhere along the dip of his collarbone – an apology, perhaps – wrapping his other arm around zade’s waist and manoeuvring them so that he can use the sink to rinse the toothbrush one-handed. he only lets go of zade to squeeze the toothpaste, stepping back to give the man some space after handing the toothbrush over. but not too far away, never out of reach. “ you can join me in the bath once you’re done. ” gaze never leaving those blue, blue eyes, mateo strips down quickly before sinking into the tub, a single eyebrow raised in invitation.

#* –– interactions. #zcidcn #every time this thread grows #i get more emo

[mqteo]

#* –– if you were church; i'd get on my knees | ft zaiden. #* –– musings. #have this while i cry over ur reply

[mqteo]

chlocz:

SHE MISSES HIM, more than she’ll ever allow herself to admit. standing near him sends all of the memories that she tried to repress back into her brain. the facade she puts on is one without a care, someone who acts as if she’s BETTER now that the other isn’t in her life anymore. the reality was that mateo made her a better person – beyond the lies and the deceit, he brought her back down to earth while supporting her dreams. even though she couldn’t have that anymore, deep down she still wanted it. her eyebrows raise after hearing his response, a burning sensation coursing through her veins. guess it’s just a walk in the park to manipulate people. “ do you ever get any sleep though ? ” her head tilts gently to the side. “ you should probably start taking something for that. ” the concern manages to somehow slip through without chloe even realizing it. the sight of the subtle smirk still makes her weak in the knees and causes the corner of her lips to turn up ever so slightly. she turns her head to the side as she tucks a stray hair behind her ear, trying to hide the smirk. “ just another day in the currently nonexistent office. my father has me running around all day to check up on properties and let’s just say the gelato shop gives me a headache. " 

he’s not entirely sure if the tinge of concern he’s hearing is actually there, or if it’s just wishful thinking on his part. it’s probably the latter, he thinks bitterly. mateo remembers the fight, remembers how hurt and betrayed she had looked, remembers the way her eyes had gone cold as she shut him out. he’d been stupid, so stupid, for thinking that someone like him could be with someone like her. even if she hadn’t walked away from him that night, even if she hadn’t judged him for the things he had to do to survive, the truth of the matter is that someone always would. he tries to tell himself that it’s better like this, that they’re both better off apart; he just wishes the memory of her – of them – wouldn’t haunt him. “ i got 8 hours last week, ” mateo shrugs. there’s no need for her to know that he means 8 hours in total the entire week. he doesn’t think she cares anyway. “ i’ve tried that, didn’t work. it’s okay, eye bags are in again, haven’t you heard? ” this time, mateo doesn’t stop the smirk from blossoming on his boyish features. his gaze follows her slim fingers as they tucks a lock of hair back, tracing her jaw down to her lips. unconsciously, his tongue swipes across his bottom lip. he misses everything about her, misses their quiet laughter, the inside jokes, the way they pushed each other to be better–– her kisses, too. it’s a momentously bad idea, mateo is aware, even as he stands and dusts his pants off, but regret is an emotion for tomorrow. for now–– “ please tell me you haven’t hit the gelato shop yet? you look like you could use some company, and i could use some ice cream. and a coffee. ” this time, the smile that’s directed her way is genuine, a remnant of the old mateo, the one that had loved her. the one that loves her still? if she’s as smart as he remembers her to be, she’ll refuse, but it doesn’t stop mateo from hoping. “ what do you say? ”

#* –– interactions. #chlocz #i wish this didnt make me wanna DIE

[mqteo]

MATEO: kim there’s people that are dying MATEO: although i would appreciate it if you could take one for the team and text me when it’s safe to go home

AMALIA: is it acceptable to call 911 if my downstairs neighbor’s dog won’t stop barking and the non-emergency number isn’t answering? AMALIA: asking for a friend.

#* –– interactions. #* –– snapchat. #amaliias #apparently they live in the same building ? #idk

[mqteo]

°•。♡ OUTGOING TEXT TO » MATEO.

BEA: oh stop, i don't do it on purpose !!

BEA: because i'm not all that tech-savy

BEA: awww that's so cute.

BEA: is it urs

MATEO: bea, you don't need to be good with tech to use e-bOOKS

MATEO: *she

MATEO: turns out my ex is married and now i'm the babysitter

MATEO: sounds hella weird when i say it like that but i don't mind, really

#* –– interactions. #* –– imessage. #beatricvs #lmao way to give mateo a heart attack !

[mqteo]

#* –– sweet creature; wherever i go you bring me home | ft atlanta. #* –– musings.

[mqteo]

He looks the most beautiful long past midnight when I am seated at the throne of his lap and our skin touches like lovers do.   He arches his neck back   and loops his lips into a silent shout to the heavens as he collapses under me. I tell him that he looks as though   he has seen god. His chest shudders with his breath as he moans to the ceiling I have seen you.

INTIMACY (via mvrdvrous)

#* –– if you were church; i'd get on my knees | ft zaiden. #* –– musings.

[mqteo]

°•。♡ OUTGOING TEXT TO » MATEO.

BEATRICE: probably but im not entirely sure

BEATRICE: lol stop that's not always true !!!!!! sometimes i leave them at work

BEATRICE: aw i love babies, what's her name again???

BEATRICE: cAN U NOT SEND PICTURES OF BABIES LIKE THAT. MY HEART WAS NOT READY !!!

MATEO: stop leaving your things everywhere!!!

MATEO: why don't you just get e-textbooks?? i'll be impressed if you manage to lose those

MATEO: this little angel's name is ofelia & she'll be 6 months old next tuesday

MATEO: i'd apologise but i'm not actually sorry. someone besides me needs to see how cute she is!!

#* –– interactions. #* –– imessage. #beatricvs

[mqteo]

zcidcn:

          – &&. THE FAMILIAR BURN of bile clinging to his throat was enough to force another round of convulsing HEAVES – but the blonde-haired tycoon knew better than to let himself SUCCUMB to his own body’s weakness. Far too many times did Zaiden fall victim to his internal vices. Alcohol and designer pills were TOO simple to access and the years he spent at high-end, private, ELITE schooling only drove the brilliant, blue-eyed boy to the brink time & time AGAIN. There was no doubt that Zaiden had found himself too drunk to function on MULTIPLE occasions – but he had always done so ALONE. With the exception of his twin, few CARED about the rich & famous’s problems. The constant scrutiny, the glaring, watch ful eyes – they were a norm that Zaiden could never quite shake. It was a curse, one that he shouldered silently. He would always suffer alone. ALWAYS.

            Or so he thought.

           The blonde could BARELY register the fleeting, gentle touch, Mateo’s soft voice far away and almost LOST in the haze of his drunken mind. Everything around Zaiden seemed to be covered in an eery film – as if he couldn’t quite FEEL where he was. But MATEO. God, he was almost as intoxicating as the ALCOHOL lacing through his blood. The warmth of his touch, his strong arms keeping Zaiden upright, his soft, almost breathy, voice – everything about him SWALLOWED the blonde-haired businessman whole until his dulled senses could focus on nothing else. A mere GRUNT – quiet and almost pathetic sounding – was all he could get out. he did little to protest, merely allowing the other to lead him into the bathroom. He had no strength to argue as he all but slumped against the toilet. A GROAN spilled out of him, clouded blue eyes fluttering shut as he slouched forward, forehead resting inelegantly against the porcelain of the seat. He FELT Mateo’s absence more than he heard his departure – and in that moment of solitude, he couldn’t help but wonder when things had CHANGED so dramatically. 

          Whatever thoughts claimed the drunken business heir were immediately DISPELLED as Mateo reached for him. Zaiden jolted with another grunt, STARTLED by his sudden reappearance. He hadn’t HEARD him, hand’t realized Mateo was right next to him until deft fingers were undoing the remaining buttons of his shirt. The irony wasn’t lost on him – and if he were in a better state, the blonde would have SMIRKED and commented on it – but right now, all he could do was STARE. Stare at him with mixed AWE and confusion. ❝ Why…? ❞ he mumbled weakly, words failing to string together coherently. ❝ I…m fine. Can do it m’self. ❞ Zaiden pressed on determinedly, stirring under Mateo’s touch.

“ it’s faster if i do it. ” his words are clipped, voice losing its soft edge. in an instant, his walls are back up, gaze determinedly remaining on his own fingers. one word, three letters. why? he’s not the one who’s drunk on a fuck buddy’s bathroom floor, and yet he still feels like the vulnerable one, his secrets lying open for zade’s scrutiny. mateo supposes it’s his own fault, for hoping that zade might be too out of it to notice the way mateo’s usually sharp edges had dulled. normally, it would take quite some effort – and time, as well – to whittle away at mateo’s defences, and the irony of it all is that zade isn’t even trying. perhaps he’s just been stretched thin–– he hadn’t always been like this. mateo remembers a time when happiness came easy to him, when his smiles had been genuine and he hadn’t emptied himself out and filled the hollow shell with a whole other person. perhaps that night’s crack has nothing to do with zade after all; he’s just... in the right place, at the right time.

after the last button has been popped open, mateo’s hands move back up, fingertips brushing over the sliver of exposed skin as zade’s shirt falls open. mateo doesn’t offer any explanations for his continued help, simply pushing the shirt off the other man’s shoulders and throwing it into his own laundry basket. almost instinctively, mateo finds himself reaching for zade’s belt, only to pull his hands back at the last minute, arms falling against his own side. he gets up then, the part of him craving physical touch quieting as he puts some distance between them. mateo makes his way back over to the bath tub, shutting the water off. perching on the edge of the tub, he picks up a bottle of bath oil and mixes some into the water. his hand is slippery smooth when he stands, wiping it off on his shirt. 

“ i trust you can get cleaned up on your own. ” fingers find the hem of his shirt, and then it’s being pulled over his head and discarded in the laundry basket as well. ideally, he’d take a shower before going back to bed, but he’s exhausted; the sun will probably be up if he cleans up after getting zade settled, and then the chances of him getting any more much-needed sleep will fall too close to zero for his liking. he almost makes it out of the bathroom–– and then he makes the mistake of looking back at zade. he pauses, offers, “ or if you need my help, i can stay, ” and reasons that it’s only because waking up to find a dead ceo in his bathroom would probably be a terrible way to start the day.

#* –– interactions. #zcidcn #lisTEN im tired and emo

[mqteo]

chlocz:

the strand of her designer purse hugged her shoulder, its contents weighing her down ever SO slightly. today was her ’ busy days ’ as she liked to call them. between each class, she had to run down to whatever location her father sent her to that day to do a quick INSPECTION. while she loved what she did, it certainly was draining. to make matters worse, the sight of a certain familiar face ( a boy with messy brown hair and a smile that USED to make her weak in the knees ) caused her heart to stop suddenly. chloe could’ve gone forever without seeing him again, let alone SEE him in another act – the same one he pulled on her. she didn’t want to speak to him, but something drew her towards him as he laid on the bench. she stood over him, green eyes peering down at his covered face. “ i didn’t know being a sugar baby was so DRAINING, ” her tone was teasing, but she wasn’t about to pity him for making his own choice. make him feel bad a little ? maybe. 

perhaps he had been asking for a little too much when he’d hoped that she would leave him alone. and maybe, just maybe, some particularly self-loathing part of him might have wanted her to come over. the lilt of her voice is more intimately familiar than it has any right to be, and when he removes his hands from his face, the first thing he notices is her perfume. mateo remembers a time when the scent would cling to his clothes long after she leaves, and despite himself, he finds the tension in his shoulders easing. god, he’s missed her. he winces internally at the light remark, but forces himself to look up to meet her gaze, face schooled into a carefully neutral expression. “ it’s not, ” he responds easily, recognising the weight of her words despite the light timbre of her voice, even if he feigns ignorance. he hates this, hates that he’s playing these games with her now, but there’s a bitter voice that reminds him that this is what she expects from him anyway. “ i didn’t get much sleep last night, that’s all. ” it’s not a lie, he can say that at least; mateo’s been plagued with insomnia for years now, and chloe knows that–– they’d spent many nights talking and kissing when either of them couldn’t sleep. his gaze sweeps over her again, takes in the comfortable shoes, the slightly disheveled hair, and can’t help the smile that tugs at the corners of his lips, although he does try to tamp it down somewhat. it’s a familiar sight that makes something in his chest ache. “ busy day today? ”

#* –– interactions. #chlocz #me making myself sad? #its more likely than u think

[mqteo]

see the thing is, it had started with an actual request for help. of course, mateo doesn’t remember what it was that he first asked lucienne for help with, just that it had been genuine. but once he’d realised that the girl actually enjoyed helping others–– thrived on it even, mateo had made it kind of his personal mission to manufacture scenarios where she could be helpful. it’s not exactly an act of complete altruism on his part, of course, and he thinks maybe some people might consider what he’s doing to be taking advantage of the girl’s kind nature. but hey, if it keeps them both happy, why not? “ you’re an angel, ” he says as soon as he sees her, opening the door wider to let her in. mateo takes the totes from her, placing it on the kitchen counter as he leads her to his music room, where an unplugged amp sits in the middle of the room. “ so uh, i tried to write some music while drunk last night, and must’ve tripped over the wires or something. and i haven’t touched this amp since someone else set it up for me, so i have no idea what goes where at all. ” lies. he knows exactly where the cables go, having set it up himself when he’d first bought it. and, he may or may not have unplugged it five minutes before the dark-haired girl got there.

@mqteo

with paella she had made earlier in the day in one tote and drinks in the other, lucienne made her way to mateo’s apartment. she looked down briefly at the text messages for help. luci had insisted on making her way over to help explain further, her incessant desire to assist others nosing its way into her life once more. he had told her to bring food over as well and was lucky enough to have what she had made for dinner for the night at the ready. so here she was, with tupperware full of food and eager to visit her friend. she knocked on his door  three times and she grinned as the door pulled open. “ hey ! i’m here, ready to help you in your time of need ! ” she greets, jokingly. luci holds up the totes. “ i come bearing food ! ”

#* –– interactions. #lvcienne #sH NO ITS GR8

[mqteo]

recidvist:

ELIJAH: mate u just fuckin exposed me in one snap. u rly dug to the root of my annoyance i’m … shocked

ELIJAH: i will take responsibility where needed

ELIJAH: uhhhhhhhhhh maybe not if we go at 2:43:56 a.m ??

MATEO: if ur being sarcastic: um dont use that tone with me young man MATEO: if ur NOT being sarcastic: ur welcome pls feel free to hire me as your personal therapist that ( very accurate ) consultation will be 200 euros thanks MATEO: are you thinking what im thinking b2

#* –– interactions. #* –– snapchat. #recidvist

[mqteo]

starter for @atlvnta !!

the interior of the restaurant is dim, but the chandelier that hangs above them reflects what little light there is, and pale shards of silver wash over his companion’s face. across him, atlanta sits, oblivious to the way the light dapples over her skin as she pores over the menu in front of her. she doesn’t seem to notice mateo’s quiet stare, his gaze following the glitter, led down the slope of her nose to the soft plump of her lips. he’d wondered what it’d be like to kiss her once–– a lifetime ago, in a different country. 

they’d been seven, and even at an age when he’d found girls icky, he’d thought atlanta was the prettiest girl he’d ever set his eyes on. it had taken him the entire weekend to work up the courage to do anything, and by the time he’d found it in him to press their lips together in a chaste kiss, they only had seconds before she had a plane to catch. young mateo hadn’t thought he’d ever see the pretty girl to whom he’d given his first kiss to again, but well, here they are. 

she looks up then, catches him staring. there’s a smile, stretched slow and wide over red lips, and mateo remembers the ring in his breast pocket. not yet, he thinks, the night is young. he presses his lips together, tries – and fails – to fight the smile at having caught her attention, finally. propping an elbow on the table, mateo rests his chin on a closed fist in a show of nonchalance that might have been passable if not for the clear mirth in his blue eyes. 

“ have i told you that you look beautiful tonight? ” he teases lightly, knowing full well that he already has –– several times, in fact, and had meant it every time. “ well, you’re beautiful always, but especially so right now. ” he laughs then, suave facade breaking immediately. had it been anyone else with him, he would’ve held onto the act – the perfectly debonair young man – all night. but this is atlanta; he’s never had to be anyone but himself with her. “ have you decided what to get? and i swear to god, princesa, if you pay the bill behind my back again, i’m breaking up with you. ” 

#* –– interactions. #atlvnta #uh #sorry?

[mqteo]

📱

⤷ atlanta 💍

what ringtone my muse has set for yours:

stargirl interlude by the weeknd ft. lana del rey

what my muse thinks of the way yours texts:

he loves that she texts him the most random things, without warning. ( although, to be fair, he’s also guilty of occasionally blowing up her phone with dumb texts. ) plus, he likes that she’s an unabashed double texter.

how quickly my muse responds to your texts:

embarrassingly quickly, tbh. usually immediately, even if it’s a ‘sorry, in the middle of smth rn i’ll text u back later’ text, just so she knows he’s not ignoring her.

how often our muses text:

everyday, pretty much. aside from the usual roommate texts – ‘do i need to get groceries?’ or ‘dinner tonight?’ – she’s usually the first person mateo texts when he’s bored, so.

how often our muses call:

he only really calls her if she takes too long to reply to his texts, so not very often. although he does like to video call her every once in a while, just to see her face. never mind that they live together and he sees her everyday.

does my muse purposefully miss calls from yours:

never.

last text sent from my muse to yours:

[ 7:43pm ] just discovered a restaurant with the best spanish food???[ 7:43pm ] i’m bringing you here with me next time[ 7:43pm ] it’s a date

#* –– inbox. #atlvnta #i just want u to know that ur 'texts not sent' killed me #this is my ghost speaking