#dark!timothee chalamet x reader

[get-your-fics]

I.O.U.

Summary: You met the wrong one on the wrong night.

Pairing: Dark!vampire!Timothée x fem!vampire hunter!reader

Word count: 6.3k

Warnings: Non-con oral (female receiving), biting, blood, mind control, slight breeding kink

Note: this is for @cocoamoonmalfoy’s Jack o’ Lanterns in July Writing Event! i chose the song “Wrong Turn” by Kim Petras as my inspiration for this fic. thanks cocoa for hosting such a fun event! it definitely got me in the spooky spirit 🧛

You promised yourself you’d never step foot in a place like this, and yet here you were.

You stood in front of the bouncer who was at least a head taller than you with biceps thicker than your legs. The flashing light of the neon sign above him reflected off his shiny, bald head. “I need to talk to the crypt keeper.”

His stoic expression didn’t shift a smidge. “State your business.”

“It doesn’t concern you.” Your face was just as blank.

He stared at you for a moment, sizing you up. “He’s in the middle of something.”

“Well, then tell him to clear this schedule.”

He cracked the tiniest hint of a smirk. “Or what?”

“I’ll have my buddies down at the station come talk to him instead, and who knows what they might find inside?” You leaned closer. “Or you can save yourself the trouble and take me to him. It’s your call.”

The tugging at the corners of his lips disappeared. His face hardened, his eyes boring into you like you’d break if he stared long enough.

You must’ve won out, ‘cause he gave in. “Follow me,” he grunted before turning around and marching into the club.

You stood at the threshold, staring down the staircase leading to the depths below. You could feel the shuddering bass of music thudding in your chest, and blood red lights pulsing like the beat of a heart illuminated the way down.

If there was a staircase to heaven, then this must be the way to hell.

You shook off your apprehension and took a step forward, then another, and another, until you were halfway down the steps and swallowed in the black abyss.

It’s been twenty years since the discovery of vampires. After some initial friction, a truce was called and vampires were fully integrated into society. There were enough willing donors that both sides agreed to coexist in peace (though maybe they were more afraid of what’d happen if they didn’t).

You still had your doubts though, even despite the influx of romance novels and chick flicks painting vampires as misunderstood creatures. You knew when the cold, chilling breath of a monster eased down your lungs that they were anything but human. These were bloodthirsty killing machines who would stop at nothing to enact their every sadistic urge. The only difference between them and a wild animal was they were better at hiding it.

It wasn’t long until places like this started showing up, underground seedy clubs where thirsty vampires could go to feed and bite junkies could get their fix. The Crypt was one of the most notorious, the owner only known as the crypt keeper even more so. You should’ve known it’d only be a matter of time before your line of work required you to venture inside.

You descended the last step into the den of thieves, the thundering squeal of an electric guitar hitting you full force. Wails and moans rang out above the incessant noise, though it was hard to tell if they were out of anguish or pleasure. You supposed there wasn’t really a difference here.

It was the dead of night, and the club was at its liveliest. The air reeked of sex and smoke, and you wrinkled your nose at the coppery scent of blood. It smothered your nostrils until you felt like it was nearly suffocating you.

You sidled between undulating bodies as you followed after the bouncer. It was too dark to tell if people were giving you weird looks, though you were sure you stuck out like a sore thumb. You caught glimpses of silhouettes enshrouded in shadow, half-naked bodies clad in leather and lace moving together in a hypnotizing rhythm. You thought you saw a flash of white teeth, and your hand shot to the handle of the machete you kept in a holster strapped to your thigh.

It was still resting there when the bouncer’s broad shoulders stopped in front of a beaded curtain. He parted the beads with his large hands and held them open, gesturing for you to go in first.

You eyed him as you passed by and tentatively entered the room. It was a lounge outfitted with enough crush red velvet sofas to seat twenty people, but it was largely empty. The din of the club fell away behind the curtain, replaced by a loud slurping noise and a high-pitched keen.

Your eyes followed the source of the noise to find a couple on the sofa. The woman’s head was thrown back and her body arched. Her eyes were rolled back until only the whites were showing, and her lips were parted, allowing a litany of breathy moans to flow out.

The man was hunched over her, his sharp shoulder blades rippling under the fabric of his suit jacket. You could only see a mess of dark hair where his head met her neck, the strap of her dress pulled down low enough to expose a pink, perky nipple. His hand disappeared under her skirt, though you knew what he was doing judging by the way her thighs squeezed together.

That loud sucking sounded again, making the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. You knew that sound all too well. You’d heard it countless times before, the first when you were a little girl hiding in your parents’ closet.

“Sir,” the gruff voice of the bouncer broke you out of your thoughts, and it caused the man to stop drinking too, “there’s someone here to see you.”

He lifted his head from the woman’s neck, still turned away from you. “Can’t it wait?” he groaned.

“I’m afraid not,” you spoke up.

He whirled around to glare at you, and you weren’t at all prepared for the face you were met with. Even contorted in frustration, he was still strikingly beautiful, with silky locks of raven hair framing skin as smooth and pale as marble. His features looked like they’d been carved as such, from the sharp line of his jaw to the sculpted curve of his cheekbones. Your breath caught in your throat as you stared into bright red eyes framed by thick, dark lashes.

His expression evened out as he looked at you, his forehead going placid and his brows no longer drawn low over hooded eyes. His gaze raked over you long and slow. Blood dribbled out of the corner of his mouth, and he quickly wiped it away with the back of his hand. Besides the smear of red, there weren’t any stains on his attire. He was a neat eater. You wondered how long he’d had to practice.

He waved away the bouncer lazily. “Leave us.” He turned to the woman beside him. “Go get bandaged up, my dear.”

She tugged her strap up her shoulder and shimmied the hem of her dress down as she stood up. She walked past you in a daze, her eyes out of focus. She was covered in bite marks from head to toe, some fresh and pink and others old and silvered. Every inch of her skin was marred with scars like track marks, but your gaze caught on the one on her neck. Blood dribbled out of the puncture wound, the skin around it puckered with scar tissue. She’d been bitten there before.

It was obvious she was a bite junkie. Several more just like her were probably a stone’s throw away in the club, people addicted to the high when they’re bit and the stupor that follows after. Some get hooked after surviving a close encounter with a vamp, while others actively sought it.

The bouncer and the woman exited the lounge, leaving you alone with this disarmingly stunning man. You were still taken aback as he stood up from the sofa. You’d expected the crypt keeper to look like… well, the crypt keeper. Dried up and wrinkled with a milky film over his eyes and paper thin skin so translucent you could see the veins underneath like some of the older vampires you’d seen.

But the man before you didn’t look any older than you, boyish with a healthy shine to his hair and a youthful glow to his skin. Though you knew better than to trust the appearances of vampires. Some were known to shapeshift into other forms, even using a glamor to make themselves more appealing to their prey.

“You know, it’s rude to interrupt someone during a meal,” he said, his voice as clear as the peel of a silver bell.

You steeled yourself, refusing to fall victim to his trickery. “This is important.” You stood up straighter, elongating your spine to make yourself as tall and intimidating as possible. “It can’t wait.”

“Well, if that’s the case,” he held his arms out wide, “what can I do for you, detective?”

You furrowed your brow. “I’m not a cop.”

“Oh, I know. But you run with them, don’t you? You help them out when they’re in need of some vampire expertise.” He tilted his head. “And if it walks like a duck and talks like a duck…”

“How do you know that?” you snapped.

He chuckled, a smirk spreading across his face. “I’ve been keeping an eye on you. It’s in my best interest to watch out for anyone who could become a threat to my business.”

“And you think I could be a threat?” You quirked a brow.

He shrugged. “I think if you know what’s good for you, then you won’t.”

You folded your arms over your chest. “Now I think I’m the one being threatened.”

He held his hands up in surrender. “I mean no harm, though I can’t say the same for you.” He cocked his head like a curious puppy. “I’m surprised to see you here. I didn’t think you’d be caught dead in a place like this.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because I can feel your hatred for my kind practically rolling off you in waves.” His lips parted in a grin. “It’s quite potent. Tangible, even.”

Your brows inched up your forehead, the only physical sign of your shock at how perceptive he was. “Then you should know I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t important.”

“The floor is yours, my dear.” He gestured to the sofa. “Make yourself at home.”

You didn’t move a muscle. “A woman is dead. The police found her drained of all her blood.”

“A vamp, no doubt…” He stroked his smooth chin.

“She was covered in bite marks.”

“…And a bite junkie!” He threw his hands in the air. “Excuse me, darling, but I fail to see how I’m involved in any of this.”

“Because some people I talked to said she was a regular here.” You reached inside your leather jacket and pulled out a photo. “Does she look familiar?”

You held it up to him. He leaned closer as his eyes scanned over the image taken at the crime scene of a bruised and battered corpse left to rot behind a dumpster. Her dress hung off of her body in shreds, and her jugular had practically been ripped out, her head all but separated from her shoulders.

He whistled low, observing the carnage. “This is quite a piece of work you have here.” He tapped his finger against his lower lip, the rings adorning his knuckles glittering in the low light. “I may have seen her face around once or twice.” He glanced up from the photo at you. “You’re not here because I’m a suspect, are you?”

“That depends.” You narrowed your eyes at him. “Is there a reason you should be?”

He didn’t look fazed in the slightest. “Whoever did that,” he pointed to the photo, “is a monster, and I can assure you” he pressed his hand against his chest, “I’m no monster.”

You gritted your teeth together. “That remains to be proven,” you muttered under your breath.

He clicked his tongue. “A stickler for evidence, are we?”

You stuffed the photo back in your jacket. “Do you know anything that is relevant to the case?”

He hummed. “I may know a thing or two.” He smiled at you. “But what’s in it for me?”

“I don’t haul your ass down to the station for obstruction of justice.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “You’re not a cop, remember?”

“But it wouldn’t be hard to get a warrant to tear this place apart.” A smug smirk tugged at the corners of your lips. “And I don’t think you’d want all your dirty little secrets brought into the light of day.”

“I promise you, dear, everything here is above board.” His grin was a little too wide for your liking.

You raised a brow at that. The rumor mill ran rampant, and you’d heard plenty of speculation that The Crypt harbored more than just freaks and addicts. You’d heard talk that the club was merely a front for a blood smuggling operation, most likely from unwilling participants. And after talking to the owner for long enough, you wouldn’t be surprised if it all turned out to be more fact than fiction. “Then maybe you wouldn’t mind if I made a call to the station.”

“You’re not the only one with friends on the force.” He wagged a finger at you. “And who knows how long all that could take? By the time you get officers through the door, your killer could strike again.”

You swallowed hard. That was enough to make you pause. You couldn’t risk any more innocent human lives falling victim to some out of control vamp. You put that above anything else, even above your own well being.

It appeared he’d called you on your bluff.

“What do you want?” you asked tersely.

You wanted to smack the resulting smirk off his face. “Nothing much, really.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “Just a favor.”

“Get to the point,” you seethed.

“It’ll be for a later date, like an I.O.U. of sorts.” He sauntered closer to you elegantly, like a panther stalking its prey. “One day, I will call upon you, and you will have to be prepared to do whatever I ask. In exchange, I’ll tell you whatever you need to know.” He outstretched a pale hand to you. “Do you think you can live with that?”

You stared down at his normal, unassuming hand, nothing out of the ordinary, no visible trace of the unbridled power and strength you knew lurked more than skin deep. You knew better than to underestimate the wiles of a monster who could pass as human.

Maybe you had tread the way to hell, and now you were making a deal with the devil.

“It better be fucking worth it,” you hissed before gripping his hand tight.

His skin felt like ice against yours, no blood rushing through it to give it warmth. He gave your hand a firm shake, squeezing just enough to make your spine go rigid. A smirk toyed at the corners of his lips, and you glowered at him. He could shatter every bone in your hand as easily as snapping a pencil lead if he wanted.

He let go of your hand. “Now that I think of it, there was an incident involving this young woman a few weeks back.” He pursed his lips thoughtfully. “One of the vamps had gotten too rough with her and had to be escorted out. After all, we’re not animals here. We treat our playthings with respect,” he teased.

You grinded your teeth together, but let his jab go. “What was his name?”

“It started with a C… Charles…” He snapped his fingers over and over to jog his memory. He perked up. “Charles Henry, I believe it was. I can’t be sure. I didn’t have so much as a conversation with the man.”

“That’ll do.” You took out your notepad and jotted the name in big letters across the yellow page.

“Will that be all?” He moved closer until his expensive cologne invaded your senses. “Or can I offer you a drink?”

You looked up at him, unamused. “Not unless you’re ready to call in your favor.”

His lips peeled apart into a wide grin. “Oh, no. I’m saving that for a rainy day.”

You blinked at him. “Then I’ll be on my way.”

“Thank you for stopping by.” He bent at the waist in a mock bow. “I do hope you catch him. The last thing us vamps need is someone going around tarnishing our reputation.”

You scoffed. “Good luck with that.”

You turned and started back the way you came. You froze in your tracks when he called out behind you, “Oh, detective?”

You wanted to correct him yet again, but instead you whipped around, staring at him expectantly.

“Your jacket.” He gestured to the garment, a taunting smirk on his lips. “Red’s a good color on you.”

You rolled your eyes at him before stepping through the beaded curtain.

You caught up to Charles Henry before he could claim another life, but by then, the damage was already done.

Word spread about what he’d done to that woman far and wide, and it wasn’t long before tensions between humans and vampires were back on the rise. There were less willing donors, which meant less blood and more hungry vamps. Bloodsucker safe havens like The Crypt were forced to close their doors, either due to lack of business or the police cracking down on illicit vamp activity.

The demand for a private investigator who specialized in hunting down creatures of the night was at an all time high. People seemed to crawl out of the woodwork looking for vamps for one reason or another: justice, vengeance, or downright hatred. It didn’t matter much to you. The more of them off the street, the better.

Your work kept you busy, but that didn’t stop the crypt keeper’s vague request from looming over your head like a dark rain cloud bound to storm at any minute. You jumped every time the phone rang (which was a lot these days), and when you answered, you waited to hear the cool, alluring cadence of his voice on the other end of the line, but it was never him.

When you found a free moment, you were usually in bed, staring at the ceiling and willing yourself to sleep that would never come. Thoughts of what he’d cash in his favor for swirled in your head. You wondered if he’d make you drive a delivery truck full of smuggled blood bags across the border, or tamper with police records or sneak into evidence lockup, get you to sweep some run-in with the law under the rug. The thought of him making you kill someone made your blood run cold in your veins, and you’d have to shake yourself out of it, steering your train of thought to the most recent case.

You were way in over your head, and you didn’t even know what he wanted from you yet.

When he finally called upon you, it was through an envelope slipped through the mail slot in the door to your apartment. It was sealed with an intricate crest stamped into thick, red wax. It looked like something straight out of the medieval times.

You cracked it open and were even more baffled by the letter inside. Your eyes scanned over the cursive words written in black ink:

I request your presence tomorrow afternoon at The Crypt. I hope I do not have to tell you what happens to people who renege on their deals, my dear.

-T.C.

You read the letter several times over until the words started to blur together. It was short and to the point, yet ominous and threatening nonetheless. If the initials weren’t enough to give away who it was from, you could practically hear him purring “my dear” into your ear with that snide tone of his.

Your stomach was in knots as you went to The Crypt the next day. You thought about not going, of course, but that was out of the question. If you didn’t show up, you had no doubt he’d send his men to come get you. He’d already made it plenty clear that he knew where you lived.

The same bouncer from the other day was at the door waiting for you, and you couldn’t help but revert to humor as your defense mechanism. “Miss me, Baldy?”

He didn’t say anything, but judging by the blank look on his face he wasn’t amused. He turned and descended the staircase wordlessly. You figured that was your cue and followed him down.

It was strange seeing the club in daylight and completely empty, not a soul in sight. It felt fundamentally wrong, even more so than when it was packed from wall to wall. It was flooded with fluorescent light, no longer saturated in a deep red hue. Part of you thought it appeared with the presence of the moon and vanished when the sun rose.

Instead of taking you to the private lounge like last time, the bouncer guided you upstairs to what looked like someone’s apartment. He stopped at a door, rapping his large knuckles against the wood before calling out, “She’s here.”

There was a pause before a low, raspy voice replied, “Send her in.”

The bouncer opened the door and gestured you inside. You barely managed to step past the threshold before the door slammed shut behind you. You looked back at it, a voice in your head screaming at you to turn back, but you suppressed your survival instincts.

You turned back to face the four poster bed draped with white linens and scarlet chiffon. There was a figure sitting on the far edge with his back to you as still as a statue. You couldn’t even tell if he was breathing.

You crept a step closer, the floorboards under your foot creaking with the movement. The windows were boarded up, so you had to squint to make out the figure in the dark. “Cryptkeeper?” Your voice was barely louder than a whisper, but deafening in the otherwise silent room.

There was a beat before the figure wheezed a breathy laugh. “Please, call me Timothée, darling.” The mattress groaned in complaint under him as he shifted to face you. “After all, we’re about to know each other a lot better.”

You couldn’t stifle the gasp that left you as you took in his appearance. His skin was impossibly pale and clung to his bones like shrink wrap. His hair hung limp from his head, the color dull and lifeless. A pair of shades obscured his eyes, and his lips were dry and cracked. He looked like a talking corpse.

“Oh, my God.” Your brow furrowed. “What happened to you?”

He rose to his feet, and your gaze fell to his silk robe hanging off of his wispy frame. He looked emaciated, every ridge of his ribs showing. He was nothing more than skin and bones, like a strong breeze could blow him over.

He lowered his head as he reached up and removed his shades. When he looked up at you, your breath caught in your throat. His eyes were pitch black like shark smelling blood in the water.

“You did,” he seethed.

Your muscles locked into place, your feet rooting themselves to the floor. “What are you talking about?”

He scoffed, and you flinched at the harsh noise. “Don’t act like you don’t know. Because of you, all of my usual meals are suddenly busy.”

“Because of me?” Your temper flared. “Maybe it’s because people are starting to wake up and see that we’re letting monsters who could kill us if they so choose walk the streets.”

“Where would you rather see us? Behind bars?” He cocked his head. “Or maybe six feet under?”

You clenched your jaw. “That wouldn’t be enough and you know it.”

He laughed, though it was more condescending than out of amusement. “You do know your stuff.” He grasped his hands behind his back. “Perhaps on top of a funeral pyre then?”

You didn’t respond, merely meeting his intense stare with one of his own.

His lips curled into a smirk. “So your true feelings are finally revealed.” His voice was hoarse. “Well, your undoing will be by your own hand. It’s because of you that I know what you owe me now.”

“Get on with it,” you hissed through gritted teeth.

He coughed out a chuckle. “Eager, are we?” He quirked a brow. “I don’t think that’ll last once you hear what I ask of you.”

“Just tell me what it is.” You pressed your lips into a thin line.

His smirk widened to an unabashed grin. “Since my usual meals are all preoccupied because of you, the least you could do is fill in for them.”

Your lashes fluttered as you blinked at him in disbelief. You couldn’t quite understand what he was saying at first. “You want me to… to…” you trailed off, unable to voice it aloud.

“Let me feed from you?” he finished for you, a teasing smirk toying at the corners of his lips. “I warned you you wouldn’t like it one bit, darling.”

You shook your head vehemently. “No, no way. I refuse.”

His brow furrowed. “That’s not how this works.” He rounded the side of the bed. “You agreed when the time came, you’d do what I asked of you.”

“I never agreed to do that,” you spat.

“So you go back on your word then?” he argued. “You’re not a woman of honor?”

“I have more self respect than to let a leech feed from me like a parasite,” you bit.

He closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath like he was steeling himself. “I can hear your heart beating from here, you know.” When they opened, his eyes were somehow even darker than before, like two blackholes sucking you into them. “It’s taking everything in me right now not to tear open your throat with my teeth and drain you dry.” It seemed like you’d finally managed to rattle him, his carefully crafted image unraveling to reveal the brute underneath. “You should be supplicating to me.”

“I’m not afraid of you.” It wasn’t your first time being confronted with a hungry vamp, and you doubted it’d be your last either.

“You will be.” He took a step towards you.

In a flash, you reached for the machete strapped to your thigh and raised it in the air. He was in front of you in a flash, moving too fast for the human eye to comprehend. His hand shot out and grabbed your wrist before you could bring the machete down.

You tried to shake him off, but his vice-like grip didn’t budge an inch. Even starving, he still possessed more strength than you. You stood nearly nose to nose, both snarling in each other’s faces. The silver blade of the machete gleamed high above your head.

“What are you going to do now, detective?” His dark eyes seemed to take up the whole of your vision. “You can’t escape.”

You refused to let his taunting get to you. You were sure the bouncer had locked you in, but you’ve scraped by the hair on your chin out of worse messes before. He must have some sort of weakness you could use to your advantage.

He hummed in amusement. He leaned closer until his breath ghosted your lips as he whispered, “Drop it.”

Your expression went blank. Your mind emptied of all thoughts until your head was hollow except for his words bouncing around inside your skull. Your hand went slack, and the handle of the machete slipped from your grip. The sound as it clattered against the ground futilely was like a bomb going off.

His command stopped ringing in your ears, and you snapped out of whatever trance he’d put you under. “How did you do that?“ you breathed.

His lips peeled apart into a smirk. “You’re not the only one with tricks up your sleeve.”

You stared at him in disbelief. You’d heard stories of vampires who had mind control abilities, but you’d merely thought it myth, and you’d certainly never witnessed any before in the flesh. He was clearly older and wiser than his boyish appearance would have you think.

So much for him having a weakness.

He let go of your wrist, and your arm dropped to your side. “Get on the bed.” He stepped away from you, finally giving you space to breathe. “Lay on your back.”

You internally screamed at yourself to stop as you made your way over to the bed, to not listen to him. But it was like your own body had betrayed you and was holding you hostage. You felt like you were inside a waking dream and all you could do was go through the motions and see how it would play out.

You did as he said, laying with your back against the mattress. He climbed on after you, hovering over you. “Good girl,” he praised, reaching out to stroke your cheek with his finger. “See? Isn’t it so much easier when you obey me?”

You didn’t answer, choosing to stare up at him in disgust instead. You could feel your pulse pounding, blood rushing in your ears. He traced an invisible line down your face and over your jaw. He stopped at the hem of your turtleneck, snorting.

“Did you really think this would be enough to deter me? A flimsy piece of fabric?” He hooked his finger under your turtleneck and pulled it away from you before letting it snap back into place. He laughed as you winced.

His eyes ran lower down your body, a growl rumbling low in his chest. “I wonder what you’ve been hiding under all this leather.” He sat up, straddling your waist. “Take off the jacket.”

Your limbs started moving before his words even fully registered. You lifted yourself up as much as you could with him on top of you and shrugged off your jacket. Once it was down your arms, he tore it away from your body, tossing it across the room.

He stared down at you through hooded eyes as his hands smoothed down your sides, lingering on your curves. “Much better,” he practically purred. He reached down and fiddled with the button on your jeans.

Your muscles tensed as your brow wrinkled in confusion. “What are you doing?”

“I’m a man of taste, detective.” He smirked up at you as he dragged the zipper down. “I prefer my meals to be slightly… aroused. It gives the blood more flavor.”

You blanched as he rolled your jeans down your thighs. No, you weren’t in a dream. You were in a nightmare.

“I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who despises our kind so much.” He tugged your jeans off your feet. “Tell me, why is your hatred so vehement?”

The words felt like they were ripped from your throat. “My parents were killed by a vampire when I was little.”

His expression barely even changed as your boots were next to go. “Really?” He shed his robe, and it joined your clothes on the floor. “And yet you managed to survive the encounter?”

“They hid me in the closet and sacrificed themselves.” You felt like the memory was replaying before your eyes as you recounted it, like you were watching blood spray on the bedroom walls as you peeked through a crack in the door, listening to the tear and squelch of flesh in horror. “He was so distracted by the blood I was able to escape.”

“Your parents were that tasty, huh?” You would’ve smacked him if you had control of your limbs. “I suppose if anything was enough to cement your prejudice against us, it would be watching your parents get slaughtered before your very own eyes.”

He grabbed your legs and parted them with ease. He settled in between them, his face inches away from your fabric-covered core. He hummed, his breath tickling your skin. His gaze was laser-focused on your core. “You’re already wet, and I’ve barely even touched you.”

You didn’t believe him until his tongue ran up the length of your slit over your panties. You couldn’t help the yelp that escaped your lips, squirming on the mattress under his ministrations.

He let up, but not for long as he ripped your panties away with ease. He dove back in, his tongue poking through your petals before finding your clit. He lapped at the sensitive nub with kitten licks, driving you wild. Against your better judgment, your hips bucked up into him, seeking more friction.

He latched his lips onto your clit and sucked. You threw your head back until you were half hanging off of the bed. You were embarrassingly close to orgasm, though in all fairness it had been a while since you’d been touched.

He pulled away and replaced his lips with his fingers, rubbing fast circles over your clit. “Almost there, you’re so close,” he cooed. “Just a little bit more…”

He coaxed you closer to the edge until your legs were twitching. Just before you hit your peak, his head reared back. His mouth opened to expose a flash of deadly sharp fangs. There was no time to protest before they sunk into your thigh.

Your back arched as you let out an agonized scream. White hot pain spread throughout your entire body so bad your vision blurred. But just as quickly as it happened, his fangs retracted, and the pain gave way to the most blissful pleasure you’d ever known.

The moan that left you didn’t even sound like it came from you as he sucked at the wound. Your orgasm hit you without warning, sweeping you under a tidal wave of pleasure. It felt like you were outside of your body floating on a cloud as you rode your high.

After what seemed like hours but you knew reasonably had only been minutes, your body sagged limp against the bed. Your chest was heaving, and your skin was sticky with sweat. You weren’t sure if that was one long orgasm or one after another in succession.

Even though your head was still spinning, you sat up enough to look down. Through your bleary gaze, you saw blood trickling down from where he lapped at the bite mark on your thigh, red staining the sheets. He pulled away and ran his tongue over his lips.

“Sorry, I’m not usually this messy.” He swiped at his mouth and licked his fingers, careful not to waste a single drop. “I guess that happens when you go hungry for too long.”

He looked up at you from in between your legs. He was healthy again, with a radiant glow to his skin and a plumpness to the apples of his cheeks. His eyes were no longer dark but instead a bright crimson, colored with your blood.

There was something nagging at you in the back of your brain, like an itch you couldn’t scratch. He peered at you curiously. “You crave it again already, don’t you?” He tilted his head. “That release only I can give you.”

You turned your face away, hoping that if he couldn’t look into your eyes he couldn’t see that he was right. Every cell in your body was singing at his proximity to you, begging him to bite you again.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get what you want soon enough.” He crawled over you until your body was covered with his. “I’ll get you addicted to me, just as addicted as I’ll be to you. My own personal little blood whore.”

Your eyes welled with tears. It wouldn’t be long before the after effects set in, before your veins felt like they were on fire. You understood now why bite junkies were willing to kill, cheat, and steal for their next fix.

“We’re connected now, detective, and with civil war on the horizon, you should be grateful to me.” He reached out and brushed his fingertips along your jaw. “We won’t stand for being ruled by our food for much longer. It’s only a matter of time before a riot breaks out and grows into a full on rebellion, all because you couldn’t let one little naughty vamp go.”

A tear rolled down your cheek before you could stop it. You wished you’d never stepped foot in The Crypt that day, that you’d just turned around and marched away. Then none of this would’ve come to pass.

“But I’ll give you a place of importance among the chaos. You’ll give rise to a new generation, a breed that will put an end to the fighting.” His hair hung around you, forming a shroud. “Most vampires don’t have the… willpower to impregnate a woman without killing her, but then again, most vampires aren’t me.”

You sniffled. Feeding from you was just the precursor to what he really wanted.

His lips pulled apart into a grin, his fangs glinting in the dark. “That’s why I brought you here, detective. I chose you for a reason. Your stubbornness, your resoluteness, is going to come in handy down the road.” It was like he was reading your mind, and at this point for all you knew he could. “Together, we’ll be their salvation. They’ll worship us as their rightful leaders.”

Your chin started to wobble. He faked a pout. “I told you you’d be scared.” He tilted your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “This is where you belong, under me. I’ll make sure you never forget your place again.”

You suppressed a sob. Your luck had finally run out. There was no way out of this one.

You were at the mercy of a monster.

#JackolanternsinJulyevent2022 #dark!fic #dark!timothee chalamet x y/n #dark!timothee chalamet x reader #dark!timothee chalamet x you #dark!timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet x y/n #timothee chalamet x you #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee chalamet #fanfiction #one shot #rpf

[motherofdogs1010]

Of Messiahs and Seeds I (Dark!Paul Atreides x Reader)

Summary: Emperor Paul of House Atreides has set forth with expansion of his empire on the planets that have resisted and has now come across the last stronghold that resists him: Terra Millennium...

Warnings: eventual 18+, dark!fic, eventual forced marriage, eventual NONCON, eventual pregnancy, dark!Paul Atreides, more to come as story progresses

A/N: Reader is inspired by Daenarys Targaryen with dragons and Sailor Moon's Silver Crystal lol, so I hope you all enjoy!! Terra is similar to Earth, I imagined Lord York to be Tyrion Lannister so please picture that

😈 Dividers by @firefly-graphics 😈 Banner by @vase-of-lilies

Part II

"Terra Millennium stands as a enomely in the universe for their rejection against the Empire", the hologram records said. "A two-century long battle was waged for the planet through the Great Houses yet the people won through the help of someone they have since called 'The Conqueror'."

Paul had heard of the Terra Millennium, their planet one of lush greenery, vast oceans and an abundance of resources that the previous Emperor had tried countless times to harvest just as House Harkonnen had done with the Spice on Arrakis, but alas, no one had ever been successful in mining Terra Millennium. He had heard that they experience something called 'seasons', he wondered what that was.

Just as he had done with Arrakis, Paul sat in his private room, watching hologram clips of Terra Millennium as his fleet flew to the planet to finally land conquest through the help of the Fremen.

"Anthropologists have never been able to stay long on the planet or among the people, but what has been gathered is the people have rejected the teachings of the Bene Gesserit, labeling it as hertic literature."

Terra Millennium was an odd planet with an odd people who had unusually long live spans, being able to live into their thousands without a single wrinkle or grey, they repented against the Bene Gesserit, the use of the Spice; he had heard of the people of that land believing solely in the ruling Queens because of a crystal, one of immense power that was sought after.

"Characterized by their white hair, the ruling House of L/N have upheld the traditional values of the planet, which has a population of over 1 billion. Only female heirs have been able to inherit the throne and it is rumored that a single crystal that is worn by every ruling Queen is said to hold immense power that has granted its people longevity, peace and prosperity."

A knock interrupted his research, Paul seeing Stilgar walk in followed by Gurney.

"Muad'Dib, we have touched land on Terra Millennium", Stilgar said, "they have responded to our communication message."

"What did they say?" he asked, Gurney chuckled.

"They said if we proceed with our mission, they will see it as an act of war", Gurney said, "they're real hard asses here."

"You've been, Gurney?" Paul asked, curious.

"Once", Gurney replied, "I came with your father on a diplomatic assignment, but that was with their previous Queen Helene. This one is new, just coronated a few months ago."

He thought back to the new dreams he had been having of a woman whose hair was the color of white that hung down near the ground in large curls, whose eyes were hard and the color of lilac with the roar of a great beast that rung in his ears when he would awaken from his dreams.

Unlike his dreams with Chani, these felt different now that he had drunken the Water of Life. His visions of the woman consisted of a gentle breeze sweeping through her hair, it curling around her as she was dressed in a long, white silk dress that clung to her body and trailed in a long train behind her with woven golden in the upper bodice. She stood on a tall pillar of crystal, a tall scepter in her hands that she was raising above her head as the breeze picked up.

Soon, the dreams melted in a great war as crystals encapsulating him, a bright light that blinded him yet filled him with warmth and security.

"Show them the full might of the Empire", Paul said, "after all, they are in the presence of the Muad'Dib."

And it was those eyes that greeted him when he finally set foot on the pavement of Terra Millennium with its tall structures that were made of variously colored crystals.

Neo-Queen Amaris was the regal name Y/N had chosen to go by when she took the throne a mere few months ago. Of course, she went by her name, Y/N in private with those closets to her and only by her regal name with others.

Y/N had heard the rumors of the new Emperor wanting to claim her home, her people; he wanted to bring her planet into the vastly growing empire that he ruled under as a supposed Messiah to the Fremen and Bene Gesserit: Muad'Dib. Everyone had heard of how he supposedly liberated Arrakis and the Fremen people, marrying Princess Irulan as a political move to secure his position as the new Emperor.

Only a few days ago did a message come into their Communication's Hub from the Emperor about finally claiming Terra Millennium for not only himself but for the Fremen as it would be their 'Green Paradise'.

War will come to Terra Millennium if you refuse to submit, the message read.

"My Queen", her advisor, Lord York, said as she sat on her throne. "Reports have come in that the Atreides fleet has made contact on the landing pad near the Capital. Scouts have seen the Atreides Army beginning to get ready."

Lord York was a man of small stature with a head full of bronze curls and dark brown eyes that always looked calculated as if he was already ten steps ahead.

Y/N looked over at Lord York before bringing a hand to the crystal that hung around her neck on a chain that could never be removed from her neck before slowly standing up from her throne that was encrusted in gemstones.

"I believe it is time we greet them", she said, looking over her court. "After all, hospitality is what our people are known for."

And it is not like they have any chance of having their weapons working; outside weaponry not from Terra M had no chance of working and she wondered what their reactions would be once they realized this.

"But before we go", Lord York said, "may I make a suggestion?"

Y/N made a motion to the man, who gave a nod and said, "I believe it is our Queen's best interest to wear your ancestor, The Conqueror's crown and scepter to greet our guests. It would show the great strength you possess, a message to not only the Great Houses but the Emperor as well."

"That sounds like a great idea."

"You are the presence of our Neo-Queen", a man said with a thick facial beard, "first of her name, descendant of our goddess Selene and The Conqueror, wielder of the great Silver Crystal, Mother of all, Neo-Queen Amaris."

Paul watched as the man motioned to the woman he had been dreaming about, he could see that as the breeze came that she wore no shoes; all the Terrians didn't despite their silken clothes as they stood amongst the tall crystal structures. They had landed as close to the Capital, finding that there was a landing pad despite the relatively isolated nature of the planet.

"I welcome you, Paul of House Atreides", she said with a stoic expression. "But now you must leave."

The woman, their Queen Amaris, looked upon them with a hint of annoyance as she held a large scepter in one hand that was as tall as Duncan Idaho had been with gold and gem embellishments, but what was curious was that at the top of the scepter where it looked as if a missing piece was needed. The crown she wore on her head was large, glittering in diamonds and curved up into a point as she stood there, her hair having a few small braids that pulled the framing hair away with kiss curls on her forehead.

"Leave?" Paul said with some amusement.

Irulan stood next to him dressed in a silver mesh outfit, a metal hair net that connected over into her dress that held down her short blonde hair. Paul was glad that he Voiced the woman to stop talking, she would not stop and frankly, he had no desire to try and pursue a romantic relationship with the woman after Chani chose to leave further into Arrakis.

His mother stood amongst them, holding the bundled form of his sister, Alia.

"I did not realize a Emperor could have poor hearing", Amaris said, "you are not welcome on Terra Millennium nor do we plan on allowing for you to colonize us. Terra M remains alone."

Paul took in the way she spoke, her accent one he had never heard before and the formal way of speaking. He noticed the large gem that hung around her neck, it sparkled in the sunlight as she stood there and looked to be the size of a her palm.

"Also, we did not apperciate your Bene Gesserit coming", she continued, "spreading their heretic language, you will find them in the Prisoner's Bay."

"You don't believe in the Muad'Dib, the Kwisatz Haderach?" Paul asked.

"We believe in our Queen, may her reign be as prosperous as Selene", the bearded man said.

The Queen just looked at him with contempt, he saw her lip curl a little in annoyance.

And it was that look that made something stir deep in Paul and made him feel something that he never felt before. She looked at him as if he was a bug ready to be squashed underneath her foot

He wanted to possess the woman in front of him, at all costs and he didn't care who he had to kill... he was going to.

#paul atreides #paul atredies x reader #dune #dune x reader #x reader #reader insert #timothee chalamet #chubby reader #smut #dune imagine #dune part two #dune part ii #duneimagine #dark!fic #dark!paulatreides #yandere #yanderexreader

[buzzkillers]

The Deer Was Tired 1/3

synopsis: As a guard for the Atreides family, it's your job to make sure their precious offspring was satisfied. Even if doing so got in the way of your true mission.

Pairing: Paul Atreides x Reader

Trigger Warnings | Content: Manipulative Behavior, Dubious Consent, Abuse of Power, Stalking, Sexual Coercion, Corruption Kink, Assassination Au.

By his fourth night of no sleep, the Archduke was restless, prickly and completely fucking annoying.

If you could kill him you would, but you couldn't. You could just barely grab for your knife and after an hour, even moving had become an impossible task. Call that the 'completely fucking annoying' part.

What a pity. 

Now at this hour, the Palace was a sleeping beast with soldiers that stood bleary eyed in the hallways. The inner workings of the court, nothing more than a shallow husk.

 It reminded you of the cities on Tano, a planet so lively during the day but nothing but a husk at night. But this was not that, this planet was a graveyard. 

An open cemetery filled with the walking dead and the beast that fed on them. Bad actors filled every corner of this world, death licked at your feet and famine yipped at your lungs. You've never been so thirsty. But you were sure that even they were rested now. The disease, the pestilence and the worms. Everything rested at this hour. Everyone but him. 

It was an odd thought. You felt as if you were even breaking some rule, that even the dunes moon hated the fact that the two of you were awake as it shined it's light through the Lords window, successfully lighting up the dark room and giving you a front row seat to the Lord that stared at you like a bug, like something to step on. 

Maybe you were. 

If not a bug than a snake. Something slimy and slick that cleaned up the pest in your walls silently, efficiently. Something meant to be invisible. It was partly true. Just as much as you were partly impressed. 

You never knew such a delicate man could look so demeaning. It reminded you of those old war paintings, the kind filled with vengeful women with burning eyes and gnashing teeth. He wanted to kill you. 

It didn’t help that at this hour, the young man was dressed like his mother. His body decorated in a deep oceanic blue fabric that crashed into waves at the ankles of his calloused feet. Each cross stitch covered in jewels and beads that glimmered in the moonlight while he laid stiff on his cot. 

 He was beautiful like this. And if you were being nice you’d say that he looked like one of those deadly beauties you heard of on the radio-if you were being nice. The look of death on his face kind of ruined it. 

With a face engraved with dark circles and sallow cheeks. The lord looked more sickly than anything. A walking famine. Before he turned towards his window, a frown etched into his regal features. 

Then with a beleaguered sigh, the Lord pinched the bridge of his nose. "Be blunt, soldier," 

"Are you saying it all came up negative?"

You rolled your armored shoulders. It sounded like a machinery of parts. "Yes, m'lord," 

"And what about this room, the walls I touch, the air I breathe?,"

"Checked and cleared, m'lord"

His frown only deepened. "Check it again,"

"But-"

He slammed his fist on the window sill. 

"Must I repeat myself?" You straighten your posture.

"Must I?"  

You shook your head till your helmet let out a creak and the brat unballed his fist. "Good," 

"This sickness has already gotten in the way of the more important things, it can't make me ignore my father's request too," 

You blinked and lied: "The Duke may be lenient," 

He laughed till his cheeks went sickly red but no humor was on his face. "You know him then?" He asked, even though that wasn't at all what you said. 

Still, still he did not wait for your response. He simply groaned, low and hard like an injured animal too stubborn to die. You wished he'd just die. 

"In a weeks time my father will need me at peak condition, and yet I haven't slept in days,"

"I haven't dreamt in days," 

"I have not known rest in days, I can barely hold my dagger any more but you say nothings wrong,"

"It is the truth," you lied again. "I pray for your health everyday m'lord" 

And for a moment there was silence before he cut his eyes towards you. "Don't lie, you are irritated with me and would readily slit my wrist for disrespect if I wasn't a highborn," You've never been more grateful that your armor came with a face shield. 

The stupid prince just had a flare for the dramatics, that was all. 

"My lord," you continued, your voice unnaturally timid because that's what books told you to sound like when speaking to royalty. "May I make a suggestion,"

"You may," But he barely looked at you when he responded, his eyes now locked firmly on the expanse of sand outside his window. His own little view of this hell scape planet. For a moment you wondered what he saw.

"Well as you know, the Duke brought many of the servants on your home planet to the Dunes," you waited for him to interrupt but he did not, you sighed with relief. "Everyone with loyalty to the throne is on this planet" 

The young man scoffed. "Are you suggesting that I make friends with servants" 

"In a way," you lied and before the scowl on the mans face could deepen (fuck it) you continued: "I'm suggesting that you get a whore," You said bluntly and not at all regal or uptight, shit. 

You're barely finished your sentence before the Atreides lord went as stiff as a board. His eyes no longer focused nor his breathing noticeable. For a moment, you mistook him for an apparition until a rush of red bloomed from under his cheeks and his eyes went beady like a bug.

Nonetheless, silence draped over the room like sand, the only thing you could hear being the sound of mice that scurried through the walls and the dancing of desert sand. 

 It would be distracting if you weren't anticipating his answer. The poor man, you must've shocked him. Politicians were rarely known for directness and you've begun to contemplate if you ran into this too abruptly then you thought before you felt it.

The soft tremor of your muscles and the swelling in the back of your head that felt like a banging drum, like a whistled beat. As something red-hot and scorching (fear,fear, dread) seeped from your veins and onto cold white bone. 

The urge to run bursted in every cell of your brain but you could not move. The sense of doom forced you still. For a horrifying second, instinct fought against instinct. You needed to run, you needed to stay. You needed to scream, you needed to choke it all down. You didn't realize it was over until you collapsed to your knees and sticky drool sloshed from your lips while your nails dug painfully into the floor. 

 Atreides hadn't moved an inch. He simply looked at you from the reflection of the glass window. His eyes replaced with black opaques that made you wonder where his irises ended and pupils began. 

Shakily, you stood back to your feet. 

"My-"

"How dare you," he hissed. 

"Please-"

"Get out," And as if space and time were at his beck and call. You blinked, the universe ceased to exist and just like that you were at his door with your armored hand on the handle. 

"And soldier," he whispered, voice now hoarse. The room now thick, muddy and impossible to think through with this heavy cloud that swelled heavy in your head. 

"Check it again,"

__

The next day, the Dune sun sunk into every pore of your skin. 

You could barely hear yourself think as you leaned against the cemented pillars of the palace. Each moment passed by with a drip of sweat made the tree gardener eventually stop and glare before grimly handing you a cup. 'A waste of water' he grumbled before he got back to work, his own skin drier than the dirt itself. 

Oh the thrills of guarding the Palm Trees.

For a moment, you wondered if this was a punishment. Something suggested by the Lord himself before quickly you burned the thought away, the Archduke was not that cruel. No, he was efficient. If he truly wanted you to hurt, a quick walk in the desert would be more his style. You doubt that you would’ve made it to morning if you had truly hurt the Lord. But that was the problem wasn’t it? He wasn’t supposed to want to hurt you. He wasn’t even supposed to know you. And now you were here, so now what? 

Now what?

Your head had begun to hurt as you thought of the possibilities. You could run, you could change your appearance, you could simply die. Did it matter? The end result stayed the same; they would not be happy. They might just bring her back just to kill her again. Oh the horror. They were going to find out and you were going to die and, 

Something like terror had begun to lick at your bones. Fear lapping at your soles. Suddenly it felt like eyes were on you everywhere. That the sky was watching and the walls were listening, they were everywhere and what were you to say? How would you plead your case? Everything watched as you stood there, your entire body damp with sweat and in your delusion even the gardener kept his gaze on you. His deep set skin dragging with his eyes at your form. Did he know what you were too? Did he know what you did? 

What were you to say if they asked? If your stupidity breached the walls of the Lords chamber?

 It was one thing to be the brats guard, it was another for him to remember that you were his guard. Just like that, you gripped the cup painfully. 

If the Brat remembered you...no you couldn't have that. It would ruin everything.It maybe already had. But the man was teased of sleep, of rest. Day and night he screamed and shouted at the guards, at his parents. At this moment, he was no different than a drunken fool. Yes, that was it. Your stupidity could be put down to that. The ramblings of a sleep deprived idiot. Even if he wasn't around, you suspected that the brat would tell your commander about the perverted soldier who attempted to tempt him into depravity, but who would believe him?

Everyone. 

Everyone would believe him. Because he was a prince before he was a fool. And you were going to die. Either by his hand or something far, far worse. It was as simple as that. A fact set in stone. The revelation caused your heart to ram into your ribs. For it was a simple answer for a simple question. All that you had left to do was warn the others, to prepare them.

Or maybe you didn’t as your shift ended with a buzz on the wrist and an overarching shadow that stretched into a soldier with armor like yours appeared in your line of vision. Under the sunlight he stood like death's hand. His metallic armor catching a gleam in your eyes. 

“The commander needs to speak to you,” the man said gruffly. 

“He says it’s urgent,” and that was that. 

You could only jerk your head in acknowledgement and with a nod towards the Gardener, you swiftly made your final exit; but not before looking at the cup of liquid in your hand and throwing it to the ground.

#paul atreides x reader #paul atreides x black reader #paul atreides x you #dune fic #paul atreides #paul atreides fic #dark paul atreides #dark dune fic #paul atreides x fem!reader #dune x reader #paul atreides smut #timothee fanfic #timothee chalamet x reader #tw: dubcon #killer writings <3

[faetreides]

summary: priest!leto x afab!reader x priest!paul (title from scorpio by pour vous)

cw: blasphemy if i’m being so real, spit roasting, reader is lowkey losing it but they’ll be okay, dubcon, pwp-ish (there’s set up but it’s not that long imo), mention of paul being into predator/prey, daddy kink coded without the actual daddy kink, horror elements, unreliable narrator vibes, mention of them being willing to non con reader if things didn’t go their way, no incest between leto & paul 💀, reader’s their sad loser turned attic spouse, mention of eventual impreg, implied soft dom!leto & mean dom!paul, religious practice inaccuracies, possibly predictable plot twists, implied painful anal but reader’s too out of it to feel it, implied natural aphrodisiac in their spit, reader bleeds

wc: 2.5k

block & move on if uncomfortable,

do not translate/repost/give my works to ai

please consider commissioning me or leaving me a tip !!

You’ve been feeling… lost. The trees keep secrets from you and the clouds mix together like egg whites. You wish you knew what kind of pill you need to be on, you wish you knew what was wrong with you. You’re paranoid and seeing blank eyes watching you through the brick and mortar of your apartment. Your skin burns hotter than hell and sometimes you think that there are claws grabbing at your ankles when you sleep.

Church hasn’t been something you’ve bothered to attend since you were a kid, but you yearn for it now.

You pull your tattered coat around yourself as you step into the ancient building. The Church of Caladan is the oldest church in the country, if not the world. You hope you don’t look silly when you take caution with how hard your feet hit the stone. ‘You break it, you buy it’ must apply to old churches too.

Your unease rolls off you in waves, and a couple nearby priests seem to sense it in the same way that horses can sense fear. For a second you imagine bursting into flames, but there are hands groping your flesh through the great hellfire.

They’re about even in height, though one is clearly older. The gray hair weaved into his temples suits him more than it shows his age. The younger man has the same dark and wavy hair, but his gaze is a touch more haggard and rife with burden.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn't have burst in here…. I'm just looking around.” You rush to explain so they would go away, internally cringing at yourself.

“No, we want newcomers to feel comfortable enough to ask questions. I’m Leto,” He says and shakes your hand. “And this is my son, Paul. He’s recently started working here at the church with me.”

Paul steps up to shake your head as well, his mouth doesn’t move but you swear that the corners twitch. The stained glass windows cast a multicolored hue on his eyes and you find yourself lost in the swirling pools of light. Then black holes swallow the brightness in the irises, cosmic cannibalism.

You blink in alarm and awkwardly take a step back from the two priests. Father and son share a look between them that has the hairs on the back of your neck standing them.

Leto clears his throat and pointedly grabs your hands in both of his, encapsulating them in his warmth.

“You’ll have to forgive him, Paul’s never dealt with a lamb as darling as you before. He’s never dealt with one at all actually, you two can go through this together.”

Paul smiles but it fits all wrong, with teeth that should be fangs and with a tongue that appears forked. You blink again and all is well, the man before you fits his human skin like a glove. Maybe you should give them the benefit of the doubt, you’re convinced you’re going crazy anyway and Priests would never be capable of hurting someone. Ghosts aren’t real and Demons are just a crazed mother’s bedtime story.

“Um, okay. Thank you for accepting me.” That’s all you want, deep down, and they know that. “I felt moved to be here, I can’t explain it.”

Leto nods and Paul rubs your shoulder in sympathy. They would hiss that they know full well what called you here, but you might bleat and scurry away. You make a sad picture, abandoned and half insane, but that’s what they are for. To soothe and to serve you, to purify you from the inside out.

“Then all the more reason to stay and sit for a moment, don’t you think?” Paul finally speaks, the boyish tone surprising you.

“Paul’s right, let’s get this jacket off you, poor lamb. You must be freezing to death.” Leto coos, shushing your protests and carefully pulling the cheap thing off of you.

They take you on a little tour of sorts, pointing out the architectural details of the building itself as well as passionately delving into its history. Centuries of worship and service to the community, strangely never having sustained any kind of property damage. The priests speak of the church as if they were wandering through the halls all this time, and they chuckle when they tease you about how relieved they were that you didn’t suffer from a nosebleed. They’re quite common apparently.

“I think that should do it, i’d hate to think that we’ve been talking your ear off, dear.” Leto says, rubbing the inside of your wrist and directing you towards the large piano on the stage at the front of the church.

He must notice the sudden spark in your eyes at the sight, because his crow’s feet wrinkles deepen as he pulls the black piano bench out. Leto’s palm spreads out wide and he gives the leather seat a firm pat, signaling for you to sit down. Butterflies swirl in your stomach with anxiety but you feel too shy to refuse the clearly eager offer. You take a seat in front of an onyx grand piano far grander than you’re used to seeing in a church.

Leto soon occupies the space next to you. The bench is small enough that your thigh is pressing against his, warmth bleeds through your clothes and the indication of muscle really makes you wish you were alone in your room with a rose toy. You place your fingers on the pristinely polished keys and clumsily play some hodgepodge of a melody that you remember from your childhood. A mix of tchaikovsky and children's church songs.

You jump and play the wrong note when you feel thick fingers slide up your thigh. Your cheeks burn with heat but you focus on the music. Leto sighs with sugary sweet satisfaction but doesn’t move his fingers any further. He also doesn’t try to play, it’s almost like he only wants to bask in the domesticity of watching you perform. You think you hear him whisper “That’s it, who knew such a talented lamb would be gracing our doorstep?”

You get a flash of riding him on the piano, gasping into his hair chest when it breaks under the weight of your passion. Thin fingers come from behind to caress your ass as it moves, much colder than the cock you’re bouncing on. Then it fades away, and you’re back to making a fool of yourself with your little song.

Paul watches from the pulpit, eyes drinking in the way your curves expand and move as you squirm. His grip tightens on the bright wood but you’re none the wiser. You almost forget that he’s even there, something which he realizes because he strolls to stand behind you and his father. The music stops once you feel his breath on your neck and he bends down to tenderly pull your hair off of your shoulder, getting himself acquainted with the texture as he rubs his fingertips down the strands.

A distant voice calls out for Leto and he stands, smiling apologetically and thanking you for the performance. You feel adrift as you watch him walk away, reminding yourself that a man like him has other things to do than coddle you.

Paul slides a hand down your back and guides you down to the pew right up front, with a view of center stage, sitting right beside you with a wink. Once Leto returns, you spot the silver tray of communion wafers in his hands. The tray is set on the pulpit by his side.

The older man's eyes darken as he puts one in his mouth, and your brain shuts down when he snatches your face in his rough palms and kisses you sense no less. The wafer cracks as his tongue passes it into your mouth, the salty crumbs oddly making you crave something even saltier. There’s a sticky sweet sensation traveling through your body as you exchange saliva with him, your brain feels so foggy.

You break away, curling your hands into the collar of Leto’s uniform.

“Wait, what are you doing?” Your voice is small and not completely filled with disgust, you’re honestly too desperate for some form of human contact to make good decisions.

“We’re helping you, honey.” Leto purrs into the seam of your mouth, shaking his head in apparent fondness.

You’re too cute for your own good, at least they don’t have to worry about covering their tracks. Any incubus or succubus would be glad to get a hold of someone as lonely as you, but they wouldn’t love you like you deserve. You haven’t been watched by anyone as long as you’ve been watched by them. He hopes that Paul doesn’t shove his foot in his mouth and let it slip that he wished you gave them the opportunity to take you by force. His son carries a torch for a bit of predator and prey action, he likes playing with his food too much. You’re different from the scrambling mice that get torn to bits, though, you’re forever.

Plus, if you don’t get it now, he has no problems with explaining everything when you’re too weak to get up and try to run away.

Paul buries his face in your neck, spilling the vial of wine he had in his pocket down your shirt. It soaks the tank top underneath and though you try with all your might to wriggle away, the desire to resist gets brushed away under a heavy fog.

It’s nice to be touched, to be wanted after a lifetime of feeling the exact opposite. Perhaps this is why the lord guided you to his grandest home, so you could take his prophets into your body.

The black vanishes from Paul’s eyes and you sink against his chest, making out with his father as your eyes roll back into your head.

No words are uttered verbally as Paul shuffles to the side and pulls you to lie back on the pew’s cushion. Leto deprives you of his tongue and gives you a chance to breathe, which both men do with you in sync, resting their foreheads against you.

The nectar on your tongue tastes divine, little lamb, a voice whispers in your mind.

Let us give you purpose so you no longer need to roam, another begs.

You’re crying from the relief of having your mouth filled, Paul tilts your head up by your chin as he slowly slides his cock into your mouth. The ridges and bumps of what feels like piercings sends a jolt of arousal through you.

“Fuck-” He hisses and rubs your neck, watching you adjust to the stretch. “So warm-”

Leto tuts and clamps his hands around your hips, you’re already too fucked out to register sharp black claws taking care of your clothes. Leaving you bare. A shiver passes through your body as he drags his huge hand down to your pussy, being mindful not to accidentally scratch you. He intends for there to be no blood, this time, not a lot.

You gag on Paul’s length when Leto slams your hips against his pelvis, grinding not one but two large cocks against your cunt. If you were looking at his face, you’d see pitch black eyes and intimidating fangs, but all you can focus on is the hazy candle light and what must be someone playing an organ.

You catch a view of one of the stained class windows, a pair of angels cradling a lamb. It’s the only damaged part of the church, with cracks running along the angel’s wings. You’d think it’s a sneeze away from shattering entirely. Your view of it is blurred by Paul’s quick thrusts, gagging on it again. Drools drip onto the red carpet.

Leto grabs one of Paul’s curled horns and yanks his head to the side, scolding at him to be nicer to you. You’ve clearly never taken three cocks inside you, the one you’re servicing is proving to be overwhelming enough. Again, Paul’s new to this experience as well, just in a different way than you are. In a sense, it’s like he was born yesterday. The older man relays this to you through your choked moans and tears, assuring you that he’s taught Paul how to clean up his messes and be grateful. Something like this will be no different.

“Hush, beloved. I would have gladly speared your mouth but you would be dead before I could cum inside it.”

You see God in the sky when Leto slaps the tapered tip of one of his dicks against your slick entrance, God sees you when he gets the tight walls of ass to wrap around the other. Unbeknownst to you, it’s funny how so many things are, your blood pools around his balls. You’re in pain sure but you’ve never felt as much pleasure as you have in this instance. Both “Priests” smell your blood and well, only your body can tell the rest of the story. Later you’ll wake up to find that the building around you has ruby walls and it seems to be breathing. The shooting pain in your left hand is the result of two iron rings being chiseled into the bone of your ring finger.

The four leathery wings protruding from your back, with spikes poking out from the joints, are waiting to be discovered. As are the nubs sprouting out of your hair.

For now beads of sweat highlight your bouncing tits, Paul gropes one and Leto runs the edge of his claw along the side of the other. They’re hissing words that string together and disappear in the blink of an eye, voices slurred and sticky. Their babbling stops and starts again as you reflexively swallow around Paul’s cock when he skull fucks you without warning. They laugh too, but you can at least pretend that Leto’s tone is kinder.

“Alright, alright. That’s enough teasing.”

“But father-“

“I said no. And don’t think for a second that you’re getting anything else but their mouth.”

“Why the fuck not?”

“You lack self control, it wouldn’t be suitable for conception to occur like this. As delectable as their quivering cunt is, demons shouldn’t abstain from courting.”

“You’re saying that as you’re balls deep inside of them.”

“Don’t start with me, Paul.”

All while you’re making gurgling sounds in between the younger priest’s thighs. You hear growls that sound like a mountain lion’s emitting from both men, and the heavy thumps of something flapping in the air gets you holes clenching around Leto. Both men feverishly scratch up and down your limp body, but you’re so enraptured by the chorus of angels happening outside. You have no sense of time, it’s minutes or it’s hours before their cum spills inside of you. There’s too much to possibly keep it all inside, a good amount of it leaks from your cunt and your throat. Leto feels like Christ incarnate when you squirt all over him and yourself with the dumbest expression on your face. Multicolored pieces of glass fall down around you with the loud chime of an invisible bell.

#dune #dune x you #dune x reader #dune smut #dune fanfiction #dune fic #leto atreides #leto atreides x you #leto atreides x reader #leto x reader #leto x you #paul atreides #paul atreides x you #paul atreides x reader #oscar isaac #timothee chalamet #oscar isaac x you #oscar isaac x reader #oscar isaac fic #oscar isaac fanfiction #oscar isaac smut #oscar isaac characters #yandere themes #⚰️.deaddove #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee chalamet x you #timothee x reader #timothee x you #tw dubcon #tw dark content

[noodleslugworth]

Absolutely NO minors

Headcanon that Willy Wonka likes to be choked

It doesn't have to be suffocating pressure. Just his significant other's hands on his throat and the slight pressing of her weight is enough to drive him crazy

If she wraps her hands around his throat while kissing or feeling him up, and squeeze just enough, even during a playful argument, he'll be turned on almost instantly and forget his train of thought. It's a devious trick she likes to pull when she wants his attention but he's been too focused elsewhere

If it's during the throngs of passion, choking him especially with more force and when he's close, will sometimes result in explosive, drawn-out orgasms that has him seeing stars, whimpering, trembling, and sometimes mumbling nonsense afterwards

Just Willy and choking ❤️

(By @palettesofrenaissance)

#palettesofrenaissance #wonka smut #willy wonka smut #willy wonka x oc #wonka x f!reader #dark wonka #wonka #willy wonka #wonka 2023 #wonka movie #willy wonka headcanon #smut headcanons #willy wonka x reader #timothee chalamet x reader #dark timothy chalamet #wonka timothee #timothee chalamet smut #timothée chalamet smut #willy wonka x you #wonka x you #timothee chalamet x you #timothée chalamet x reader #timothée chalamet x you #wonka headcanons

[meetmyothersouls]

ok ok so lee seeing the reader around town one day & starts following her. He ends up saving her from another eater? Thank you, I need more lee content!

Been thinking about this all day and I've finally got enough to write it! I hope you enjoy!

First Time for Everything

A Bones & All inspired fanfic

Warnings: stealing money, being attacked, cannibalism (relax it's a bones and all inspired fic), blood, gore, not proofread

July 1989

You’d never stolen anything before. Not even when your friends would go into a Walmart and shoved nail polish and thongs into their purses. They always called you a goody-two-shoes or a scaredy-cat. You wonder what they’d think now as you carry a K-mart bag full of cash from the register you were working at not even 30 minutes ago.

Of course, being newly homeless generated a whole new incentive to steal the money. And even though it was so out of the norm for you, it was so easy. You waited until your line was clear, pulled open a bag, popped the till and calmly grabbed every stack of bills in the register, pocketing what wouldn’t fit. Then, you flipped off your register light and walked out. It wasn’t until you made it to the parking lot that you began to run. And now, the adrenaline high you are coming down from is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. They’ll never suspect you. Not with you being the golden employee that you are. Were. You can’t go back there now.

It’s getting dark, that along with the pointy tips of crumpled up money poking your thigh from the inside of your pockets snaps you out of your thoughts. This morning, you were worried about where you’d stay. It wasn’t the first time you got kicked out of a hotel room, and it probably won’t be the last, but at least now you can afford a new room for the night. If you can find one.

It's hot, one of the hottest nights so far this July. You pull off the thick K-mart polo and throw it into woods, leaving you in your black cami and a pair of khakis. A chorus of cicadas singing from the trees in that line the street almost drowns out the sound of a flirty whistle from behind you. You walk a little faster, not daring to turn your head.

"Hey, little lady," a man's gravelly voice calls out. "Why don't you keep the show going and take the rest off." The man laughs, but it's cut short by a painful sounding cough.

You pick up speed, your Converse slapping the pavement as you quickly turn into an alley, hoping to lose him by your abrupt change in direction, but a thick hand grabs your wrist.

"Let me go!" You yell, attempting to yank your wrist from his sweaty grip.

The man seems to enjoy the struggle, he tightens his fingers around your wrist as he pushes you into a warm brick wall. A tall streetlamp shines an eerie orange light into the alley, barely illuminating the man's features. He's got dark hair, stringy with sweat and grease. One of his eyes is missing and the other is open wide. He looks hungry. Ravenous. And the laugh that rumbles in his throat is truly sinister.

"Keep goin', darlin'. I love a good fight."

Then his tongue is on your neck, tasting your skin. You sob and gag as you inhale the scent of his breath. Sour with alcohol and something metallic.

"Come on, honey. Don't fight me, I just wanna taste-"

"Hey!" A new man's voice yells. "Hey, get off her!"

The man's grip on your wrist loosens enough for you to pull away from him. You take your chance and make a run for it. You dropped your bag of money when Man Number One shoved you against the wall, but you can't risk turning back around. You just have to make it ou-

You're stopped short by a hand in your hair, pulling your head back, bending you almost in half. You scream as Man Number One drags you. He's pulling you by your hair, your heels dig into the ground in front of you, desperately attempting to gain some traction. Your only view is upside down and distorted through the tears building up in your eyes. But, in the dim orange light you see the other man. He's peeling himself off of the ground and his nose is dripping blood onto a forest green crop top. His jeans are shredded, exposing a large amount of his legs, you're not sure if it's because he just fell or if the jeans are just naturally like that or why you're even wondering about the nature of his jeans. He's got a brick in his hand that he's attempting to hide, but even upside down you can see it. You see him look down at you and for some reason he winks. Then you realize, Man Number One can't see him.

Crop Top walks creeps up onto Man Number Two, like a lion stalking his prey. Then, without warning, he slams the brick into the side of his skull with a wet crunch. Instantly, you're dropped to the ground and as much as the landing hurt, the relief feels twice as good. Your scalp throbs and you're sure you're missing a chunk of hair. A set of light footsteps run toward you, and immediate dread sets in again, but it's Crop Top. He grabs you, throwing you over his shoulder. You're not sure if you should be scared or relieved as he places you behind a dark green dumpster.

Crop Top kneels down, looking over his shoulder once to make sure Man Number One is still down.

"Is he-"

"Not yet. Stay here. Don't move until I come get you," Crop Top says. He drops a plastic bag next to you. The money. You're immediately shocked he didn't take it for himself. That's what most people would do. His knees pop a little as he stands back up. He starts to walk off but stops. "And don't watch."

Don't watch? Isn't that like an automatic invitation to watch? You think to yourself. You lean your head back on the brick and close your eyes. You could run right now. You could take your money and get a room for the night and leave this odd encounter right here in this alley, but you don't. Instead, you poke your head out, peeking from the side of the dumpster.

Immediately you wish you hadn't. Crop Top somehow dragged Man Number One and sat him up against the brick wall, maybe 15 feet from where you're sitting. How he did it, you're not sure. Crop Top probably weights 120 pounds soaking wet, but he's managed to maneuver him just right so that he can...

You pop your head back behind the dumpster, unsure of what you just saw. There's no way...

You poke your head out, peeking again. There's a squelching sound, followed by a spatter of blood coming from Man Number One's neck as Crop Top bites into it.

Okay, yeah. He's definitely eating him. This should definitely be a sign to run, right? But you aren't moving. Everything in you is screaming to run. Run the fuck away because this dude is going to eat you next. But you don't. You sit there alternating from watching and hiding. It's like one of those car accidents you can't help but watch, hoping you'll see a dead body, or some fucked up shit like that. You shouldn't want to look, but you do.

Finally, after what seems like an eternity, you hear footsteps approaching. You sit up straighter against the brick. His stops in front of you. His white high tops covered in blood and gore. Why would he pick white shoes to wear if he's going around munching on dudes.

"You looked, didn't you?" Crop Top asks.

"I uh..." you risk a look at his face. It's covered in blood. His upper lip, his mouth and his chin are coated in it. You swallow hard. "What are you?"

Crop Top crouches down again, eye level with you. "A person like you," he smiles. "Name's Lee." He holds out a bloody hand. You look down at it then back at him. "Oh," Lee says, wiping his hand off on his shirt, then offers it again. Still just as bloody as before.

"Are you gonna eat me too?" The question falls out of your mouth, you can't stop it. Word vomit.

Lee scrunches up his face, pursing his lips as he tilts his head to the side, contemplating your question. "Mmmm, probably not. Unless you've done something really shitty..." Lee eyes your bag of money with an arched eyebrow and you shift a little.

"My name's Y/N."

"You work at K-mart, Y/N?"

"No," you answer too quickly.

"I've seen you there. A lot."

"I don't work there anymore," you say. "You've been watching me?"

"Every day for like two weeks or some shit," Lee says, like it's no big deal. Though up against eating a whole human, it's probably not. "That your first-time stealing from money from your job?"

You open your mouth, the urge to defend yourself creeping up your throat, but you cut it short. You just watched this man eat someone.

"It's my first time," you admit.

"No shit? Well, Y/N, there's a first time for everything." At this point you notice the grey grocery bag he's carrying. It's full and tied up, dripping slightly with thick red liquid. "Bones and shit," Lee says, and tosses the bag into the dumpster. It lands with a heavy, wet thud. "You got anywhere to be tonight, y/n?"

"Not really, no."

"Not really?"

"I'm homeless," you admit.

"Perfect, let's go."

This time Lee grabs your hand and pulls you up. You grab your bag of money and walk with him looking behind you every so often to make sure no one is following.

"Where are we going?" You ask.

"For a ride," Lee says smiling as he jangles a pair of car keys in front of your face. "Nabbed these off of fuck face back there before he tried to eat you."

"He tried to-"

"Oh, he was going to eat you real good. You're lucky I've been following you."

"How-"

"Shh save your questions, I'll answer all of them when we find his car."

"We're gonna steal his car too?" You ask. The amount of crime you've been involved in today is beginning to overwhelm you.

"You've never stolen a car?"

You shake your head.

Lee smiles. "I think we're gonna have a lot of first times, Y/N."

Tags: @dayafied @soulofendlessbook @fashphotolife @scentedkittenperfection @weasleytwinscumslut @timotheel0ver @mxciscastleintheair @marvelmaniac2000 @lovelyrocker @divine-1 @louievr @love-poems-only @starberry-cake @inlovewithphantasy @alexagirlie @misswestfall @softhecreator @livresjaunes @timmymyluv @inannamoon @harrys-thick-thighs @s-we-e-t-t-ea @timolaurence @its-schmackin-dude @justagirlwhoneedshelp @kteezy997 @sufferingstarlight @xoxoloverb @tropicalrozmajzl @iloveneilperry @syirnge @patronsaintofthetwinks @rosewatergroupie

#TIMOTHEE CHALAMET #timothee x reader #TIMOTHEE CHALAMET FICS #timothee chalamet imagine #Timothee chalamet blurb #Timothee chalamet x yn #timothee chalamet x you #timothee chalamet headcannon #timothée chamalet #bones and all #Lee x you #writing #smut #dark!timothee

[hamlets-ak]

his last letter ༊*·˚

༘♡ and life went on. but it was not the same

regulus writes you a letter before he goes to the cave

My Dear Y/N,

If you are reading this, it's too late for me.

I am writing you from my room, at 12, Grimmauld Place. My doom is hanging on my chest, like a rope around my neck. It’s heavy and unbearable. I can already feel it dragging me down.

That night at the Forbidden Forest, I had given you a promise, that I was going to change, that I was going to be good. You were so sweet to tell me that you didn't want me to change, you loved me so much and nothing mattered to you. It mattered to me though, because I wanted to be good. I wanted to do the right thing.

The time has come to keep my promise and be good. And if the right thing is going to cost my life, then so be it.

Y/N, my dear Y/N, I need you to know that I’ve changed. I need you to know that I did the right thing, that in my last moments on this earth, I was good.

I am writing to you determined to do what I have to. Y/N, my heart, please forgive me.

I wish I never had to write this letter to you, but I know that my road has no return. It’s not just me being my pessimistic self, no. I can feel that this is not going to end well for me, for us. The earth has prepared a deep and narrow place for me and I can do nothing but get in.

Please forgive me for not meeting you tonight. Forgive my sloppy handwriting. Forgive fate. Forgive Kreacher, the bearer of the bad news and please don't be mad at him. Forgive me.

If I regret one thing in this life Y/N, is not giving you more kisses, not hugging you tighter, not saying "I love you" every minute of every day.

Light of my eyes, a million hearts wouldn't be able to carry my love for you. I love you so deeply that no words can describe it. If only you could jump into my body for only a few seconds, you'd see for yourself, but I would never let you. I love you too much for this. You are everything to me.

You were the first person that made me feel truly loved. I know, my brother loves me too, or at least he tries to. I don’t blame him for taking his distance. After all the things I've done, I feel disgusted in my own skin. But you… how could you not be disgusted? How could you not leave me? How could you be there for me? How could you love me? People like me don’t deserve to be loved.

You made me feel that I wasn’t as bad as I thought, that I had a good side; that I wasn't always angry or mad, I wasn't misanthropic, as everyone said. You made me realize that I wasn’t a burden, that I mattered only for existing. You truly did love me… and honestly, I’m still not sure why. But I know you did. I could feel it every day, even in our worst moments.

I need you to know, you are the one and only for me, and you will always be. No matter what happens to me tonight, my soul will always be with you. I will always be yours. You will be my last thought, and my last breath will be your name.

I love you.

I’m afraid that you’ll forget me. Me, and everything we did together. Everything we were.

Please, think of me sometimes. But not the bad things; the fightings, the tears, the sadness, the fear… think about the good things.

Do you remember the night after that stupid Ravenclaw party? I was completely pissed. I could barely walk and, oh Merlin, I was so, so dizzy. You couldn’t stop laughing watching my anarchist side coming to the surface, as I was going up and down in front of Dumbledore’s office. I thought it’d be hilarious if we managed to get inside and burn the place to the ground. Well, we didn't do that, obviously. From walking so fast, I ended up vomiting in front of the gargoyle. I could still listen to your voice, as I was holding my knees and vomiting my guts out, and your laugh — I love it so much when you laugh. You then walked beside me, pulled my hair back, looked me in the eyes, and kissed me. I was staring at you like an idiot because I was too drunk. You smiled at me and then hugged me with your warm hands, your smell being the only thing I could sense.

That was the moment I first realized you love me. Who else would kiss the lips of a person that was vomiting only seconds ago?

I’ve never told you, but until now I’ve been thinking of that moment. Why would you be so kind to me? To me, of all the people on this Earth. And how can you love me?

Remember this time I was crying so hard without any reason, and I was just so angry that I was kicking the bathroom door and I was completely out of control? That day was terrible. I was hitting the wall so hard that my fist started to bleed. You had never seen me like that and I knew you were scared of me, but you hugged me tightly and didn’t let me go until I calmed down.

I asked you that day, why didn’t you leave me alone? Why did you have to be there? You said that you loved me so much nothing could drive you away. When you left I cried and didn't go to my next class.

I was so confused. But I knew one thing, I wasn’t one hundred percent evil like everyone wanted me to believe.

We had so many dreams and plans that will never come true. I should've left this whorehouse when I had the chance. I should've left with Sirius. If it wasn't for my ego... And then, when we were done with school, it was foolish of me to stay at my father's funeral. We could have been in the countryside now, married, away from everyone. I really wanted to marry you, to spend the rest of my life with you.

I'll stop thinking about that.

You have no idea how much it hurts knowing that you are reading this letter. It feels like a knife twisting deep into my soul.

Please, Y/N, you have to understand why I did this. I had to. I owed it to everyone. I owed it to myself.

I know it’s very selfish. I left you just so I can live up to the expectations I built for myself.

I am never going to see the day that awakens with you ever again, but I hope the light of the world is bright and gentle to you. I hope the people are good. I hope you smile and laugh every day. I hope you think of me sometimes, just once in a while.

My love, my heart, please don’t do anything crazy. Stay alive, do it for me. Live. I need you to keep going. If you love me, keep going. And please, get out of this place. Go to your friends, to my brother and Remus. I don't want you to be here. And don't even think about passing by my house.

I don’t know what else to say. I wish I could write you everything but time is running.

Please, know that I am not scared. I am not scared at all. I want to do this. It’s my decision, probably the only one I’ve ever made.

Don't forget to burn the letter.

It's so cold here and I can't stop remembering. My heart has no pity on me.

I love you forever.

R.A.B.

#hamlets-ak #regulus black #r.a.b #regulus arcturus black #to the dark lord #regulus last letter #marauders era #black family #sirius black #regulus x y/n #regulus black fanfiction #regulus black imagine #regulus x reader #regulus fanfiction #regulus angst #timothée chalamet #timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet fanfiction #timothée chalamet imagine #timothee x reader #timothée chalamet x reader #timothee fanfic #timothee x y/n #timothee x you #timothee angst #timothee chalamet angst #angst

[palettesofrenaissance]

I thought to drop a link this fic here too because

I have been in a writing rut for over a year

Thought to branch to a different source material and branch out from my usual fluff and happy romance by trying to get into dark fics

I made a one-chapter that's more of a concept about this canon compliant AU

Saw this new film and fell in love with the lady with a beautiful voice that showed up for only like five seconds

Pretty please check it out and let me know what you think.

It's Permanent Marker on my ao3

This could be the start of more content with potentially darker material starring this background character

If you like this please let me know. If you didn't, please be helpful with your words

#timothee chalamet x reader #timothée chalamet x reader #wonka x reader #wonka dark fic #dark fic #character x oc #black!reader #black!oc #timothee chalamet x black!reader #timothée chalamet x black!reader #dark fantasy #palettewrites #wonka fanfic #wonka fic #dark!fic #named reader #named oc #dark timothee chalamet #dark!timothee chalamet #dark wonka #dark!wonka #dark willy wonka #dark!willy wonka #wonka x oc #willy wonka x oc #black oc

[strawberriescherrieskiwi]

Dangerous Nights

Anon request:

N/A. 

This came from a conversation I had with @s-we-e-t-t-ea​ yesterday about stripperreader and MafiaTimmy.  So thank you for putting this in my head and I hope you like it.

Wordcount: 4.3K+

Masterlist

Description: It’s an important night for your Boyfriend, but you are so needy for him and the last thing you would ever put up with is being ignored and sent away.

A/N: So this came out of nowhere. I had a fucking lot of fun writing this. I love their little relationship and I left room to write more maybe their backstory, but that is only if people want it. And don’t worry I am still going to write the 20s mob Timmy with the innocent reader.

Warning: Mentions of murder and guns. Stripperreader, MafialeaderTimothee, smut, spanking,biting

“Now Kitten, remember tonight is important and I am going to need you to be independent,” Timmy said from across the room, fixing his watch and making sure his gun was loaded.

You were half listening, too invested in a video of some girl doing aerial ropes. You watched in fascination, eyes taking in everything she was doing. You would really have to take a class and incorporated it into your route.

“Kitten, are you listening to me?” He asked closer this time. You nodded absently turning to lay on the bed. You were already dressed in a short black dress and heels that could easily put out an eye, you’ve done it before.

Timmy growled grabbing your ankle and pulling you on the edge of the bed, grabbing your jaw and forcing you to look at him. “Kitten, I am speaking to you. Don’t ignore me.”

You blinked up at him with wide eyes, taking in his angry expression. “I’m sorry darling, were you saying something?”

Timmy was anything but amused. “Yes, I was speaking to you and you were too busy with your fucking phone,” he said grabbing it out of your hand.

“Darling, give it back,” you said, standing up and reaching for your phone, but he just put it in his pocket and walked back to his desk.

“Maybe if you listen, I won’t take it from you.”

“Last time I checked, I paid for my phone.”

“Yes and who pays the bill?” He asked with raised brows.

You narrowed your eyes at him, walking over slowly to his desk, perching yourself on the corner. You crossed your legs swinging them. “I am more than happy to pay my own bills if you think you can control me with it.”

Timmy ignored you and continued to get ready. You huffed swinging your legs more until your heel grazed his upper thigh. “Timmy I need my phone.”

“Don’t ignore me then,” he said, grabbing your ankle, pulling it up, and pressing kisses along the bone. “I fucking hate it when you do that,” he mumbled.

You giggled softly leaning closer to him. “I would never ignore you on purpose, baby. I really didn’t mean to. I was just looking at a video, something for the club, a new dance and skills,” you said, sliding off the desk and onto his lap.

Timmy grabbed your waist, pulling you closer, laying his head on your chest. “What type of video?”

“I told you about aerial ropes before. They are silk ropes and we can hook them to the ceiling. There are classes in Brooklyn I can take. It would be fun at the club, impress all your clients and such.”

“Is it for the club or for you? If you want to take the classes, kitten, you can take them. You don’t need my permission.” His words were muffled as he started kissing and biting your breast.

You rolled your eyes. You didn’t need his permission, but he would make you take at least 10 guards with you or come himself and scare all the other girls. He did it when you wanted to take a cooking class last just last month, thus you burned the kitchen down at the penthouse and you were staying out of the city until it was fixed.

“It’s for both the club and me. A few girls and I can go down and take the classes, it will be fun. I heard they even do private lessons and will come to us. Maybe we can do that instead.”

Timmy nodded against your chest, his hands slipping under your dress, teasing your underwear. “Are these those little black ones you brought last week?” He asked.

“Yeah, you ruined my last pair so I needed to get more.”

“I love them so much on you,” he said, pushing them aside and stroking a finger along your folds.

You moaned and pressed yourself against him more. “Are you listening to me, Timmy,” you panted.

“As much as you were listening to me earlier.” He said, sliding his fingers inside of you. “So wet already,” he commented.

“How can I not be when you are touching me like this.”

“I love how wet you get for me, my good girl,” he praised, kissing the side of your jaw.

You closed your eyes as he added a second finger and started to ride his hand. “Please so good, don’t stop.”

Timmy chuckled, kissing your neck, sucking a big mark before pulling away, slipping his fingers out of you, and placing you on the desk.

Your eyes shot open and you stared at him with wide and confused eyes. “Darling? Why did you stop?”

He smirked, grabbing your chin and kissing you sweetly. “Don’t look at me with those eyes. It’s absolute sin,” he said, biting your lower lip. He kissed you breathlessly for a few minutes before pulling away. Timmy grabbed his jacket, check his gun one last time, and walked to the door.  He glanced back at you. “Come on, kitten. Time to go.”

“Y-you aren’t going to finish?” You asked desperately.

“Yeah, later on. We need to go. I told you it’s an important night,” he held out his hand for you.

“But I need you.”

“Later.”

“No, now.”

“Don’t be a brat.”

“I’m not going then,” you said crossing your arms across your chest.

He stared at you. “Come on.”

You huffed and got off the desk and moved to the bed. “Have fun, Timothee.”

“I am not playing games, Kitten.”

“That’s too bad because I love games.”

“Stubborn, stubborn girl,” he groaned, coming back to the bed and pushing you unto your back. “So stubborn.”

“But you love me,” you said, putting your legs on his shoulders.

“So fucking much,” he mumbled, ripping your underwear off. Before you could protest, Timmy was fucking you with two of his fingers and his lips were sucking on your clit.

Your hips raised off the bed and you moaned out his name. “Shit, shit, more, fuck. Rougher, darling.”

“Needy, bossy,” he said, biting your clit. Timmy slapped your cunt with one hand and added two more fingers inside of you.

You laughed but it turned into a moan as he stretched you out so perfectly. The pain felt overwhelming and the pleasure had you digging your heels into his shoulders.

Timmy hissed, biting you harder. You cried out, riding his fingers faster. “Such a needy little slut for me. My sweet little kitten.” He spanked your cunt again and you were squirting all over him

He moaned lapping up all your cum and fucking his tongue inside of you until you were sobbing and begging him to stop. He ignored you and kept up drilling his tongue and fingers inside of you.

Your second orgasm came too quickly and your eyes rolled back as your mouth opened in a silent scream. Timmy gave your clit one last kiss before pulling away. He kissed up your body, connecting your lips and making you taste yourself.

Your body was completely spent and you lazily kissed him back. “Thank you, darling,” you said against his lips.

“Now I’m gonna be late thanks to you.”

“It’s your club. Your night, no one will complain about the boss being late. No one is going to say anything to Timothee Chalamet.”

“Stroking my ego, kitten?” He chuckled, biting your neck.

“I can stroke a few more things,” you said suggestively.

Timmy got off the bed and fixed his clothes. You whined, but he slapped your ass. “Stop whining. I’ll send the car back for you, take your time, but I want to see you tonight.”

You rolled over until you were facing him. “Want to see me dancing tonight?” you questioned.

You loved dancing. It was on a pole that you first met Timothee. He was opening a new club, one that was supposed to be legit and needed some new strippers. You’ve been a stripper since you graduated high school.

At first, it was to pay for college, but you enjoyed dancing, it was freeing to be on stage and be in control of your own body. So you decided not to go to school and continued to dance. You took more classes and after a few years moved to New York with some friends.

You were dancing at a small club in the city when Timothee walked in. The whole place was on edge. You were still new and had no idea who he was. You were doing your show, hanging upside down on the pole when you caught his eye. His deep green eyes burned into your eyes. He walked right up the stage and demanded you work for him.

“Ah, ignoring me again?” He said, slapping your ass and pulling you out of your thoughts.

“That sound close to a whine, Timmy,” you teased.

He ignored your comment. “No dancing, I don’t want anyone from the other families to see you dancing.”

Members from other mafia families were coming to the club for a poker game. There was one every 6 months and this time it was Timothee’s turn to host the game and he was always possessive of you.

“But I want to dance,” you said.

“You could dance at home for me, but the kitchen was burned down,” he said, kissing your nose.

“That’s rude.”

“But true.” He kissed you again, too quickly for your liking. “Talk to the other dancers and then give me a head count and a price for the classes,” he said, grabbing his keys.

You grinned widely. “And talk to Jonny about the measurement for installing the silks?”

“Take the classes first and then show me progress. I’ll have some installed at home. In the bedroom,” he smirked.

“Ohh, deal.”

He smiled, “Love you kitten.”

“Love you too, Timmy.”

You showered after Timmy left, and changed into a backless red dress. You kept your heels and pulled your hair off your neck. Even if you had two orgasms before he left, you were aching for him.

The whole ride to the club you rubbed your thighs together needing your boyfriend. You had almost forgotten about the game until you walked into the club and noticed the different setup.

You cursed grabbing a drink from a passing waiter and scanning the room for him. His table was, of course, on the second level with all the heads of the families. A rope and 6 big bodyguards stood in your way as you tried to walk passed them.

“Excuse me, miss, but you can’t go back there.”

“Excuse you, but this club is in my name. I designed and made sure tonight is perfect for all your bosses so I would suggest you get the hell out of my face,” you said to the man that stopped you.

Just then one of Timmy’s guys caught your eye and waved you over. You glared at the bodyguard before going over to Paul. “What the hell is going on? Why don’t they know  I can go back there.”

“They are idiots, but Timmy has been waiting for you,” he said leading you towards the table.

You perked up at his words. “Aw, he missed me? That’s sweet.”

“I don’t think I would describe boss as sweet,” he chuckled awkwardly.

You patted his cheek. “That’s because you don’t have my little cunt that he can’t live without.”

Paul turned red quickly taking you to Timmy and running off. You laughed, sitting on Timmy’s thigh. He kissed your cheek, “What did you say to Paulie?” He asked, one of his hands holding his cards the other on your thigh.

“We were talking about my cunt,” you said snuggling into him.

His grip tightened. “Excuse me?”

You grinned and kissed his cheek. “I was telling him how much you love it and how sweet you are because of it.”

“Because of your cunt?”

You nodded, sipping your drink.

Timmy leaned closer, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. “I’m sweet because I love you. Your cunt is just a bonus,” he chuckled, putting his cards down, winning this hand.

“Ah, Chalamet you have your lucky charm and winning now. Maybe you should share her with the table,” one of the other members said, wiggling his eyebrow at you.

Both Timmy and you looked down the table at the man. You raised an eyebrow at the man that smirked widely at you. You opened your mouth to tell him off when Timmy tapped your thigh.

You smirked excited to see what your boyfriend would do but instead, he kissed your cheek. “Kitten why don’t you go chat with the girls about what we talked about earlier.”

You turned to stare at him. “What?”

He glared at you, pushing you off his lap. “Kitten go.”

You wanted to argue but you were too upset to do so. You just stood up and walked away. You walked backstage ranting and raging, “That fucking little bastard. Doesn’t defend me and send me away? Who does he think he is? That little mafia bitch.”

One of the girls snorted. “Trouble in paradise?”

“Oh, there will definitely be trouble. Which one of you is dancing for the VIPs?”

“Oh god, what do you have planned?”

“Well clearly tonight is important and I think we should do a special dance with our number one girl,” you smirked.

“Last time you smirked like that, Timmy killed a man in the showroom.”

“Don’t see what that has to do with me,” you shrugged, slipping out of your dress and changing into one of the outfits.

“Crap you both are crazy,” she laughed. “Since you are dancing, I can go, right? The sitter is driving me nuts.”

You started letting your hair down nodding. “Yeah, go home. Take care of little Vik, tell him I said hi.”

“Will do. Good night and good luck.”

You smirked once more. “I won’t need it but thanks.”

Timmy stared down at his cards, his hands shaking. His knuckles were bruised and the joyous game was anything but. The man across from him had a black eye, a cracked nose, and a bruised cheek. They had to pull Timmy off of the man and then stop both families from killing each other.

You were his girl, his kitten, the only person he trusted and loved 100 percent in this world and he wasn’t going to let people talk about you. He could let it go, possibly, but the moment you left the guy went on and on about you until he snapped.

The light dropped, painting the room in a red glow and the music started, but Timmy’s eyes didn’t leave his cards. He continued to play ignoring the hoots and the shouting from the other men.

“Yeah take it off,” one of the guys shouted, causing Timmy to roll his eyes and play his card.

“Are we playing or what?” He said.

“Calm down, Chalamet enjoy this show. You went through all this trouble,” someone said.

“Piss off,” he growled tossing his card down.  “Paul,” he shouted.

Paul slowly made his way over to his angry boss. “Sir?”

“Find kitten, tell her to come here.”

“Umm, sir…”

“Just fucking do it,” he said dismissing him.

Paul bit his lip. “Sir… she is on the stage.”

Timmy's eyes snapped to the stage to see you dancing around in one of your skimpiest outfits. One he didn’t mind seeing you dance in, but not in front of people he hated, in front of people that were allies on the best of days and adversaries every other day.

You grinned over at your boyfriend offering him a slight wave as you wrapped your legs around the pole and took your bralette off and tossed it his way. Timmy’s eyes bore into yours. They were filled with rage and desire, but you ignored him as you continued to sway your hips to the song.

The same man from before whistled and you grinned moving from the stage to circle the table of mafia leaders, your hands slightly sliding across their shoulder span. Teasing them, before getting on the table.

You laid on your back with your head angled towards Timmy and your lower half against the rest of the table. Spreading your legs you ran your hand along your body, moaning softly when you ghosted over your underwear.

Timmy slammed his hands on the table, causing some of the men to jump. “Kitten,” he said voice tight and devoid of emotions. Just hearing him sent a chill down your spine and soaked your underwear. “Why don’t you go back to the stage and let us finish our game,” he mused as if a question.

You looked over at him, flipping onto your stomach and shaking your ass at the other men, but you only had eyes for your boyfriend. “Oh, am I distracting you all? I’m sorry,” you said innocently.

He narrowed his eyes and you knew that was nothing he wanted more than to climb on the table and show you who was in charge. You smirked at the thought, slowly moving off the table into someone’s lap. “Oops, sorry about that,” you whispered coyly. You kissed the man’s cheek and got up and went back to the stage.

Timmy stood slowly, keeping his eyes on you as he addressed the table. “Well, it seems the entertainment has drawn all our attention. So we should call it a night with the game. Enjoy the club for the night my people are at your disposal, but remember to respect my staff, respect my girls, or learn that lesson with a bullet between the eyes. Enjoy.”

His tone was dismissive and left no room for arguments. The room quickly cleared out and Timmy finally took his eyes off you and walked into his office. You continued to dance for a few minutes just to piss him off more before grabbing the coat that you dropped when you first got on stage and following after him.

“Did you enjoy my dance?” You asked, closing the door behind you.

“Did you enjoy pissing me off,” he countered grabbing a bottle of bourbon and pouring you both a glass. His back was to you, but he still held out the glass when he finished pouring it.

You joined him, grabbing the glass and gliding your fingers over his waist. “You started it,” you stated.

He scoffed. “And just how did I do that? Please enlighten me.”

You whined, you really didn’t want to fight. While you were pissed you rather just fuck. You were still dripping for him and more turned on than before. “Let’s forget it and have fun,” you said, laying your head on his shoulder.

Timmy walked away from you and sat on the sofa. “Not until you tell me what I did.”

You groaned, “And you call me stubborn.” You made your way over to him, dropping onto the ground in front of him. “You sent me away,” you said, staring up at him and chugging your drink. You choked slightly never a big fan of bourbon.

Timmy clicked his tongue, reaching out and wiping the liquid dripping down your face. He pressed his thumb into your mouth and you eagerly sucked on it. “Kitten I was not sending you away.

You bite his thumb. He hissed, grabbing your chin roughly. “Stop being a brat. You needed to talk to the girls and I needed to remove you from the room before I killed someone.”

“Why was I the issue? And not him, I did nothing wrong.”

“I wasn’t punishing you. I didn’t want you to see me hurt someone,” He said, gaze softly and lovingly stroking his thumb across your lips.

Your gaze softened as well and all your leftover anger left. “Baby, I am not afraid of a little violence.”

“Oh, I know that. I’ve seen you take down men twice as big as you,” he chuckled, “But it is still different than you seeing me like that. I don’t want you to think differently of me because of it.”

“Timmy you are insane. I love you. I’ve seen you get angry and hurt people, kill people. Nothing is going to make me change the way I feel about you. I knew who you were, about your life when I decided to get involved with you,” you kissed his thigh. “Love my darling so much.”

Timmy sighed in relief, pulling you into his lap. “I just want to stay perfect in your mind,” he said, tearing your coat off your body, cupping your breast, biting your nipples.

“Oh baby you are far from perfect, but that’s what I like about you. What I love about you,” you sighed happily, patting his curls.

“You are perfect to me,” he said seriously.

“I know. It’s another reason I love you so much. You are obsessed with me,” you joked, kissing his neck.

“You are obsessed with me too. Don’t think I didn’t notice the look you gave me when you walked in. And how I could just feel how wet you were sitting on my thigh.” His hands moved between your thighs, rubbing your clit through your underwear.

“I am obsessed with you and your fucking cock and your curls and everything about you drives me crazy, Timothee.”

Timmy hummed before kissing your cheek and pulling away from you. “Across my lap, kitten.”

“What?” You protested.

“Across my lap.” He stated.

You grumbled but did as he asked. “I didn’t do anything,”

His hand came down fast and hard on your ass. “Really? Dancing for those men, touching yourself in front of them, kissing one of them? That’s nothing?” He asked each question with another hard slap.

You whined, “It was just on the cheek, darling. I love you.”

He ignored you pulling your underwear off and spreading your legs. “Such a cute little cunt. I can still taste you from earlier. Too bad you don’t deserve me tasting you right now.”

“But I’m a good girl, your good kitten,” you whined again.

“Lies.” And then his hand was coming down on your cunt fast and harder in quick succession. You cried out with each hit, but you barely had time to process one before the other was happening.

“Look at you getting wet as your cunt gets all red and swollen. Such a little slut for me.”

You sobbed, nodding.

“Words, kitten use your word.” He said, spanking your clit directly this time. You moaned louder. “Only for you,” you agreed and cumming. You hugged his thigh and gasped.

“Fucking beautiful cumming from my spanking. Shit, I can’t believe your mine,” he said, rubbing your stinging cunt and ass. “Took your spanking so well, couldn’t ask for a more perfect kitten.”

Timmy flipped you over, grabbing your thighs and putting them on his shoulders. You squealed at the quick movement, your head now resting on his knees. Your eyes were clouded and your mind fuzzy but you wanted more. “Timmy, I need your cock.”

“Not yet, you need to earn it,” he said, face buried in your thighs, biting harshly at the skin. “Next time you dance you’ll have my mark all over you.” He shoved three fingers inside of you quickly curving them and fucking you with them.

You moaned, grabbing his thighs to keep you from slipping off his lap. “More. More.”

“Needy slut,” he growled, moving to your clit pinching and pulling the sensitive nerve until you were screaming his name and cumming once more. You were panting heavily, your head spinning as you tried to calm down.

“Fuck you soaked my fucking shirt, kitten,” he laughed, pulling you up until your head rest on his shoulder. He pulled his pants down pulling his cock out, rubbing it against your quivering fold. You mewled softly, sucking on his earlobe.

“Think you can cum one last time on my cock?” He asked, softly, rubbing your back with the hand not holding his cock.

You nodded, wrapping your arms around his waist. “Please fuck me, darling.”

Before you could get all of darling out, he was pushing his cock inside of you. Timmy moaned, turning your head and kissing you as he slowly fucked his cock in and out of you. His thrust was lazy, but still so deep. His cock was so thick and stretched you so much even after all the foreplay.

You squeezed around his cock, rocking against him, moaning into his mouth. Timmy bit your tongue as you tried to force it into his mouth and take care control of the kiss. You moaned at the bite, riding his cock faster.

“Shit, kitten fuck. I’m not going to last long,” he said, grabbing your ass and pulling your cheek apart, and fucking into you harder.  You bounced on his cock, letting him move you as you grew tired.

“Play with your little clit for me, kitten. Can you be a good girl and do that for me?” He asked through his moans.

Reaching between your bodies you touched yourself softly. Each touch made you moan softly. Until Timmy slapped your ass. “Not softly, pinch it, slap your little clit for me.”

“But it’s sore, Timmy,” you pouted.

“Fucking do it,” he demanded.

“Bossy, Timothee,” you said, slapping your clit. You tightened around him again and he cursed.

“Again,” he ordered.

You moaned, slapping your clit repeatedly. Timmy groaned, biting your neck as his ball tightened and he was spilling inside of you, filling you with ropes of his cum. Your head dropped back as came along with him.

You both moved lazily against each other as you got lost in the glow of your orgasms. Your hands petting his hair and Timmy’s rubbing soothing circling in your lower back. Your eyes closed and you snuggled closer to him. “Tired, darling.”

He hummed, kissing your forehead. “Sleep, I’ll take care of you, kitten.”

You nodded, “Love you,” you mumbled.

“Je t’aime plus que la vie”

                          Taglist.

@gatoenlaciudad​ @iloveneilperry​ @valencia-rou @s-we-e-t-t-ea​​

#timothee chalamet #timothée chalamet #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee x reader #timothee chalamet imagine #timothee chalamet imagines #dark timothee chalamet fic #timothee chalamet smut #smut #timothee chalamet x you #timothee chalamet fanfic

[midnightswithdearkatytspb]

MidnightsWithDearKatyTSPB’s Recommendation List: February ‘23 Part 1

Welcome to February’s recommendation list. If you wish to be featured with one of your pieces or as a writer, I follow the #MidnightsWithDearKatyTSPB and check it daily for new content for me to check out. I also share AO3 works in this list; just message me a link to your stories. I’m currently back in college, so response times will range from right away to 24 hours. I hope you all had an amazing January and a wonderful February.

<< January '23

February Pt. 2 '23 >>

My Masterlist

In This Heart Playlist • In This Heart Masterlist (Tommy Shelby x OFC! Estella Holland) • In This Heart: Prologue • St Jude Moodboard (Tommy Shelby) • Mad Max: The Playlist • Black Butterflies Moodboard (Mad Max) • Mad King Ronan Playlist • Broken Crown Moodboard (Mad King Ronan) • Work Song Moodboard (Tommy Shelby) • Princes of the Universe Moodboard (Eddie Munson) • Bright Horses Moodboard (Tommy Shelby) • Poor Wayfaring Stranger Moodboard (Tommy Shelby) • Home Moodboard (Tommy Shelby)

ONE-SHOTS:

Love Like A Bruise by @targaryenvampireslayer >> 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤!𝐓𝐖𝐒!𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 - Summary: 𝐇𝐘𝐃𝐑𝐀 𝐰𝐨𝐧. 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐰𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐡, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫… 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐦. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐫. | I’m so glad I read this! I love me some dark!Bucky and this did not fail me. The ending, though, was such a surprise. *chefs kiss* Hi, upcoming reader; please read the warnings! ⚠️

A Private After Party by @angrythingstarlight >> Rockstar!Stucky x Reader - Summary: You've been invited to a very special afterparty with your rockstar boyfriends. "Sweetheart, you are the afterparty." | Of course, this is hot! @angrythingstarlight wrote it, so I knew from the get-go it was going to be hot. Head the warnings going in, folks, and enjoy.

Marked by @jadedvibes >> Beefy!Bucky Barnes x Reader - Summary: Your secret relationship is nearly exposed when Natasha spots Bucky's neck covered in hickeys. | I loved how protective Natasha was in this and how the smut was as well.

Trouble Maker by @jurassicbarnes >> Bucky Barnes x Reader - Summary: In which you thank Bucky in your own wonderful way. He kinda loves it. | *Blushes*

Au Revoir by @vase-of-lilies >> Dark!Steve Rogers x (f)Reader - Summary - You've been captured by Steve Rogers and he's doing everything he can to possibly break you. This time, he quite possibly succeeded. | I forgot how much I missed reading Dark!Steve sometimes. This was nice, a nice little reminder of that. Head the warnings before diving in!

When I Hear Your Name by @georgiapeach30513 >> Dark!Steve Rogers x Reader - Summary: You should have never left.  Things were perfect. | 10/10 so good ya’ll. Please read the warnings before proceeding to read, it might be too intense for some, but I did enjoy it. The smut was great!

Need You Now by @angrythingstarlight >> Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Omega!Reader - Summary: Bucky is an insatiable, greedy man and now he can't wait to show you how much fun you're going to have making a baby with him. And he's going to want to practice again and again. | Hot and spicy, everyone. Read the warnings and enjoy it as I did!

SERIES:

Innocent by @queenshelby >> Tommy Shelby x Reader - Summary: You are forced to marry Thomas Shelby after the death of his wife, Grace. Unfortunately for you, your marriage isn’t as beautiful as you thought it would be. Will you build love and desire for each other? | Such a good series to binge when you want to get your mind off things. You get Peaky Blinder Tommy and Husband Tommy. Everything you could need.

Yule by @string-of-beads >> Tommy Shelby x Reader - Summary - Y/N is a barmaid who has always been fascinated by Tommy, and now she's caught up in his world. What could possibly happen in the Peaky world for Y/N? (My horrible summary sorry) | I may have gotten teary-eyed a few times while reading this it was so good. I binged the whole series this evening and I’m so glad I did. Please do yourself a favor and read it!

The Photographer by @midnightmagpiemama >> Mordern!Tommy Shelby x Reader - Summary: Hired by Ada Thorne, Reader who is a photographer catches the eye of single CEO dad Tommy Shelby. She is just as interested in him and his son, Charlie. Can they make a family, overcoming both their past? | I’m looking forward to upcoming updates on it. I highly suggest it to those who like Modern!Tommy Shelby.

Family Ties by @peakyscillian >> Modern!Tommy Shelby x Reader - Summary: The Shelby’s will do anything for family. | Please read the warnings when it comes to reading this. I really enjoy reading modern Peaky Blinders, and this story has the grittiness of show in modern times.

Teach Me by @inthepeakymidwinter >> Tommy Shelby x Reader - Summary: Tommy takes a special interest in Shelby Company LTD.'s newest secretary. | It’s perfect! Perfect, perfect, perfect! I can’t wait to read more.

ONE-SHOTS:

Have It All by @look-at-the-soul >> Modern!Tommy Shelby x Reader - Summary: Professor Jeremiah invites a friend during his ethics class to talk to his students since they are starting their last year in college. Turns out you weren’t a stranger to Mr. Shelby. | I was looking for modern!Tommy and boy did this feed my need. It's just perfect as I'm a college student. Just read it and enjoy.

Just a Stranger Now by @gypsy-girl-08 >> Tommy Shelby x Reader - Summary: Thomas bumps into an old love interest. | Prepare for an emotional rollercoaster with this one.

The Silver Lining by @runnning-outof-time >> Tommy Shelby x Daughter!Reader - Summary: (Y/N) Shelby's always been the 'forgotten one' in her family, but there may just be a silver lining in all of her suffering. | All the feelings that were rolled up in this one, you guys. I wasn’t prepared. Grab some tissues, maybe don't; you never know, I’m a big baby. It's just so good, and you don't expect the ending that you get.

Mr. Loverman by @pherelesytsia >> Tommy Shelby x Female/Pregnant Reader - Summary: Thomas receives a call and imagines the worst. | Worried Thomas is sort of cute, I will not lie. I loved watching how caring he was.

Whatever You Want by @peakyswift >> Tommy Shelby x Reader - Summary: You storm out the house after a fight with Tommy. | I felt like it was almost giving Tommy a taste of his own medicine, all those times he walks out on fights.

His Property by @peakyscillian >> Tommy Shelby x Reader - Summary: You know exactly where you stand with Tommy until those lines get blurred. | This has emotions and the spiciness I could ever need in one one-shot.

Show Me by @floraltypes >> Tommy Shelby x female!Reader - Summary: The Shelby can’t help himself when making a business visit. | This is what I needed to get my mind off my homework that I really should be doing! Thank you! So happy I read it.

You Can Let Go by @tommyspeakycap >> Tommy Shelby x sister!reader | Summary: Tommy dying, but his withering body is hanging on because his heart knows his little sister still needs him now just as much as she ever has…he won’t let go until he hears her words | Grab your tissues because folks this is an emotional one.

AO3:

Everything's a Nagotiation by plotbunniesletmesleep//@3988akasha >> Tommy Shelby x OFC - Summary: Mackenzie Theil's cousin is in debt to the Peaky Blinders and in order to save his own life, he offers up Mackenzie's services. Unfortunately for Mackenzie, she piqued Thomas Shelby's interest. | I like this story of how Tommy and his men keep turning out of nowhere. Okay, so maybe a little stalkerish... but trust me at just five chapters, I'm sucked in.

ONE-SHOTS:

Baby Mine by @cevansgoatee >> Chris Evans x Wife!Reader - Summary - Chris has a little heart-to-heart with your six-year-old from a previous marriage. | Not me over here crying like a big wimpy baby over this beautiful one-shot.

One Hundred Percent by @daydreamingatnight209 >> Conrad Hawkins x Female Reader - Summary: With sleep nonexistent since bringing home baby Gigi, Conrad takes it upon himself to get up with her tonight. | I love this so much. I am so glad I happened upon this on my dashboard; it made my day.

A Different Kind of Battlefield by @daydreamingatnight209 >> Conrad Hawkins x Female Reader - Summary: With a nursing shortage at Chastain and working triple shifts reader is exhausted, who will be there to catch her when she breaks? | Seriously I love reading Conrad and reader, and I didn't know I needed it till today.

Eternal Summer by @get-your-fics >> Paul Atreides x fem!Reader - Summary: Paul ***ks you in a tent on Arrakis. | I'm not sure how I wound up here, but I'm so glad that I did.

Switching Coats by @sufferingstarlight >> Timotheé Chalamet x Reader - Summary: TW: Periods; Reader gets her period and is in need of help from Timotheé who volunteers to switch jackets with them. | Having gone through a similar situation in 7th grade, this was adorable and I knew I had to share.

Expect the Unexpected Baby by @f10werfae >> Henry Cavill x Reader - Summary: Henry breaks up with Y/n, only to discover he’s left something of his behind, his baby. Does he try and reconcile? or Does he just accept the path he’s made? | An emotional rollercoaster of a one-shot.

Striptease Request by @thisismysecondrodeo >> Ted Lasso x Reader - Summary: Ted does a striptease to Pony by Ginuwine. | I’m so glad my friend sent me this to read. Let me just say Ted Lasso can dance for me any day and can wear underwear with my face on them any day. This made my day by 1000%.

She'll Have The World If She Wants It by @auroracalisto >> Uhtred Ragnarssson x Fem!Reader - Summary: [tw: pregnancy] Reader is pregnant and trying to keep it a secret for as long as possible till she possibly can't anymore. | This was so good! I love Uhtred so much, and I didn’t know there was a fandom on here writing for him! I need more!

Valhalla Bound by @icarusignite >> Finan x GenderNeutral!Reader - Summary: Summary: During the ransacking of Rumcofa, you save Osferth thus exchanging his fate for yours. | Give me till the next list to have emotionally recovered from this one.

SERIES:

Begin Again by @teds-mustache-wrangler >> Ted Lasso x OFC (Penny) - Summary - When Penny starts working at AFC Richmond as their new head photographer, she catches the eye of a certain mustached, happy-go-lucky, head coach of the team. But can their spark endure through the season’s pressures and the demons of their past? | I was so excited to see this get posted last week and be able to be one of the first people to reblog it. Penny and Ted are officially one of my fanfiction OTPs. If you are a Ted Lasso Fan, I highly suggest you give this one a read.

@shelbydelrey - Isa was one of the first writers for Peaky Blinder's content that caught my eye when I made my return to Tumblr. Writing mostly for Tommy Shelby and some for Alfie, she immerses you into Small Heath and the Peaky world, making you forget you're actually reading. I highly suggest you check out Isa and give her a follow.

@georgiapeach30513 - Jennifer has an expansive collection of series and one-shots for us readers to choose from on her masterlist. Currently, I'm most excited about reading her series A Losing Hand, which is a Mafia AU. Jennifer's casting of it looks spectacular for it as it has various Chris Evans and Sebastian Stan characters as well as other Marvel and actors alike.

@runnning-outof-time - K writes for Peaky Blinders and does a wonderful job at it. I love their blog after being back for a short amount of time, and I know I’ll be looking forward to what they post in the future

#timothee chalamet x reader #tommy shelby x reader #bucky barnes x reader x steve rogers #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #midnightswithdearkatytspb #ktk rec #mcu fanfiction #peaky blinders #paul atreides x reader #paul atreides #dune #chris evans x reader #chris evans #beefy!bucky x reader #modern!tommy shelby #modern!tommy shelby x reader #alpha!bucky x omega!reader #dark!steve x reader #dark!steve rogers x reader #dark!tommy shelby x reader #dark!thomas shelby x reader #fanfiction recommendation #conrad hawkins x reader #conrad hawkins #the resident fox #dark!bucky barnes x reader #tommy shelby x sister!reader #thomas shelby x sister reader #moodboard

[get-your-fics]

Ok! But picture this (tw: kidnapping):

You’re sitting in front of a tv, in a room so nicely decorated you can almost forget it’s a basement if you weren’t the one trapped there. The news is going on about a woman missing for going on a month now. You absently wonder why they chose that photo of you before Timothée leans his hip against the arm of your chair and hums.

“I mean, I get it,” he says before turning to you, tucking a stray hair— that’s been bothering you for hours that you couldn’t move because of your bound hands— behind your ear. The empathy in his voice is genuine. “I’d go crazy if I couldn’t find you either.”

Melodrama

Summary: Timothée's your toxic ex who becomes a little too toxic.

Pairing: Timothée Chalamet x fem!reader

Word count: 385

Warnings: Kidnapping, possessive behavior, allusion to violence, dark themes

Note: omg bestie thank you so much for sending this to me!! i love this concept and i wanted to explore it so bad so here you go ajklsjfldk hope you like it!!

You wonder if he does it just to torture you.

He turns on the news every night, and like clockwork, the newscaster immediately starts talking about the disappearance of a local girl. You watch as friends and family cry snot-nosed in front of the camera, as they beg you to come home, as they assemble memorials flush with flowers and candles and framed graduation photos of you smiling and happy outside your home.

You barely recognize yourself in the pictures they show of you anymore. You can’t remember the last time you looked like that. (Though you can’t remember the last time you saw your reflection, either, not since you punched the mirror down here to shards.)

The whole time Timothée’s grinning to himself, holding back snickers like he’s watching a slapstick comedy play out before him. His grin grows bigger when he makes an appearance, teary-eyed and chin wobbling, simpering melodramatically about how much he misses his girlfriend.

You stifle a scoff. You haven’t been his girlfriend for weeks, not since you broke up with him and he retaliated by locking you in his basement. (Though you suppose it was stupid of you to think you could dump your overly clingy and possessive boyfriend and he’d get over it like it was nothing.)

You recall the time the police knocked on his door and he wrapped your wrists and mouth in duct tape so tight your skin stung. It still didn’t stop you from banging your bound fists on the locked door of the basement, your screams muffled behind the tape. You heard him make up some excuse about a pet and usher them out of his home.

You still had bruises from the punishment he’d administered to you after that little stunt.

No, it’s easier to sit in his lap as he strokes your hair, as he brushes your tears away while your eyes remain fixed on the agonized faces of your parents on the screen in front of you. It’s easier not to fight him, you’re starting to learn.

“It’s what they deserve for trying to take you away from me.” You feel him smirk against your skin as he buries his face in your neck. “They’ll never get in the way of you and me again. I’ll make sure of it."

#dark!fic #dark!timothee chalamet x y/n #dark!timothee chalamet x reader #dark!timothee chalamet x you #dark!timothee chalamet #fanfiction #drabble #request #rosie's drabbles #rpf

[douceurrrr]

INSTA AU

timothee chalamet x celebrity!fem!black!reader

a/n: hardly any black reader Insta au with timothee chalamet so here you go

tchalamet

Liked by: florencepugh, ronan.saoirse, and 6,580,013 others

tchalamet: rise n shine

view all 100 comments

user10069: hi

timmyfan1366: cute!

bellahadid: ❤️

user16: 🤮

florencepugh: lovelyy!

ronan.saoirse: what a beauty

y/nfan134: 😍😍

vanityfair

Liked by: tchalamet, zendaya, and 11,466,061 others

vanityfair: y/n y/l/n rules the runway

view all 1,000 comments

Y/nfanpage465: AHHHHH❤️

tchalamet: my love 😍

^ user5466: awe

zendaya: gorgeous ✨

keke: you go girl!

snews

Liked by: timmytandy/nfan, and 18,000 others

snews: Timothee Chalamet and Y/n Y/l/n spotted on balcony being intimate! 👀

view all 12,000 comments

y/nfan: oop

user500: he’s so lucky

user_3: my favorite relationship

timmychalfan: I love them both

tchalamet added to their story!

*if you want a faceclaim they have to a be in the same age range as the celebrity another wise I’ll be gross

#timothee chalamet #black!reader #woc #timothee chalamet x black!reader #dark skin #instagram au #timothee chalamet instagram au

[bonesandchalamet]

slumber party - t.chalamet

masterlist

requested: y - “Hii, could you make one about Timothée and reader having a toddler,and just pure fluff please 🫶🏻”

pairings: dad!timothee chalamet x mom!reader

warnings: fluff + child has been given a name + established relationship

a/n: this is short I’m sorry love!

silence never fills the walls of your New York apartment anymore— at least not since aurora, your daughter, was born.

her presence has been a blessing, there’s no doubt to that, but when the silence exists it’s deafening. which is why you’re concerned at six am when the pitter-patter of little feet against the hardwood floor is nonexistent. she’s only four, you think to yourself, there’s no way she’s learned to sleep in yet.

Timothee, your husband, is dead asleep beside you. he couldn’t of heard a tornado hit with the way he sleeps, and you don’t blame him. work and production of the upcoming films he was in were beginning to start, and sleep was lacking with not only a toddler, but work.

so yes, he had his reasons to sleep in, but aurora didn’t.

you heave out a worried sigh, throwing the blankets off your body, exposing you to the cool air of the room. you slip on your slippers and trudge down the hall towards her bedroom. the homemade sign of her name Timothee made hangs loose on the door, the stickers her and Pauline stuck to the wood were fading, but stuck like glue. you push open the door carefully, to see her blinds are pushed open already, and she’s dressed herself.

“aurora,” your groggy voice jolts her head from the book in her lap, it’s timothees copy of dune that she stole because it reminder her of him. he spent months in the desert thinking of you two, and she spent months pretending the fat book in her lap was readable.

“mommy, is daddy awake?” she slips off the bed, book falling open onto the ground, she brushes past you headed straight for your bedroom door that’s closed. she doesn’t give you a second to reply, the man in the cozy bedroom is all she cares about and you don’t blame her. his presence was absent due to filming, any chance she got cozying up with him was a win in her book

you don’t have in your heart to warn her that he’s sleep. she’s already pushed open the door and by the time you slip into the dark room, she’s made herself comfortable in his arms. he’s barely awake, but when he felt her finger poke his chest, he unconsciously lifted his arms up.

you slip back under the sheets, turning in bed to look at the two. their mouths part the same way, their strains of curly brown hair fall over their faces in the exact same way.

you watch his eyes flutter open for a brief minute, he takes a look down at her, and then at you. your eyes are shut once again, forehead touching auroras, the two of you are sound asleep, and he doesn’t hesitate to sink further into the mattress and let sleep wash over him.

#timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee x reader #timothee chalamet fluff #timothee chalamet fic #timothee chalamet x you #timothee chalamet imagine #timothee chalamet fanfiction #timothee chalamet fanfic #timothee chalamet imagines #timothee fanfic #timothee x you #timothee x y/n #timothee fic #timothee imagine #timothee fluff #timothee blurb #timothee Drabble #Timothee chalamet x y/n #timothée x reader #timothée x you #timothèe chalamet

[thatsdemko]

only him - p.gasly

pairings: Pierre gasly x reader

warnings: none???

a/n: feedback is always appreciated xx my requests are open!

“Channing Tatum? Michael b Jordan? you’d chose me over them?” he asks, slight offense at the tip of his tongue that the beautiful dark skinned males image he’s pulled up on his phone isn’t who you’d pick.

you’re not sure how this conversation arose, you were at dinner and somehow the topic switched to men you find attractive, and that then shifted to the one you’re having now. where you’re sat staring at pictures of gorgeous male celebrities picking who you’d date, or sleep with, over Pierre, your boyfriend.

it’s not a surprise to you that he’s pulling out all the stops: harry styles, Michael B Jordan, Timothee chalamet, etc. but none of them compare to way the man in front of you treats you. for all you know, the stories and rumors about them could all be false, but you know Pierre gasly treats you like a queen.

“David Beckham? he has to get your panties wet?” he asks, at this point he’s pulling straws just trying to see who you’d give him up for. you think it’s cute, that he thinks someone out there is better than him.

“he’s hot, but I would still date you.” you laugh, unsure when this will end, but you enjoy seeing him roll his eyes and him playfully argue that you could do better than him.

“Pierre, nobody is better than you! not even harry styles and you know how much I love him.” you reach across the center console to grab his hand, guiding it to your inner thigh where he happily pats the fabric of your pants against your thigh.

“I have a hard time believing you’d stay with me over him, I see how you react to him.” he scoffs, you and Daniel have the same reaction to his music and his outfits, you both are practically carbon copies. Pierre finds it adorable— and slightly annoying.

“have you heard the songs he writes? he practically admits he’s a bad boyfriend!”

Pierre puts his hands up in defense before quickly placing them back on the wheel, “amour, would you really stay with me? you’d really pick me over them?” he glances at you for a quick second, you catch the worry in his eyes, he wants you say no, pick Channing Tatum instead, but he knows you love him too much for that.

“Pierre, even if Timothee chalamet was walking down the street I’d still hold your hand and kiss your cheek. that’s how much I love you.”

“that’s quite the compliment.”

#pierre gasly #pierre gasly fanfic #pierre gasly imagine #pierre gasly drabble #pierre gasly x y/n #pierre gasly x you #pierre gasly fic #pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly blurb #pierre gasly fluff #f1 driver x reader #f1 imagine #f1 imagines #f1 x you #f1 driver x you #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x you #formula 1 x reader

[adoristsposts]

book boyfriend | mat barzal

author's note; he's so handsome i can't breathe summary; when you go for an interview, the last thing you expect to be asked is who your famously charming book character is based on- and who your readers suspect is the muse. word count; 0.9k warnings; none that i can think of characters; author!Reader x Mat Barzal

Mat's suit was wrinkled and your furrowed eyebrows caused similar lines to appear on your forehead as you tugged lightly on the collar to try and smooth it out. "Babe," He laughed, "It's fine." "'M just trying to fix it." You dismissed. He stopped your fussing by clasping your hands in his own, momentarily bringing your cupped hands to his lips before dropping them. "Stop stressing. It's just an interview." You pursed your lips at him and glared. Just an interview! You scoffed to yourself, of course the hockey player would say it's 'just an interview.' As if he could hear your thoughts, he smiled at you and the radiance of it washed away your annoyance. You rolled your eyes at him and tried to suppress your own growing grin at him. Damn his rugged handsomeness. "You look gorgeous. I'm just behind the camera." You quirked an eyebrow at his reassurance, "And you broke out a suit just to be behind the camera?" "It's in case you need to give the people what they want," He joked. His pointed canines showed when he smiled lopsidedly like that. You prompted him by asking "Which is?" "A rare sighting of your gorgeous boyfriend." Before you could compliment his humility, your manager popped her head out of the room and said "You ready? Mat can come in if you want." You took a deep breath like you were trying to hoard all the air in the room into your lungs. Mat placed a hand on the small of your back and you looked into his eyes for reassurance before turning back to your manager and nodding. He led you into the room with his hand comfortably there, thumb rubbing up and down. "You'll do great." He told you, pressing a kiss to your temple before separating from you and going to stand behind the cameras. The interviewer stood up from the chair, a tall woman with beautiful brown hair and bright red lipstick. "Hi! I'm Trace, I'll be interviewing you today. Before we start, is there anything you don't want me to ask about? It's mostly viewer questions, but we can throw out anything you don't want to answer." "Not anything I can think of off the top of my head." You tried offering her a smile, but it turned out meek. She seemed kind enough, and you felt more at ease in her presence, but still.

After a short conversation to allow the tech guys to set up, you settled into a chair across from Trace. She offered you a big smile, and said, "Right!" before delving into the questions. As the interview went on you slowly grew more comfortable and relaxed in your answers. Then, like a slap to the face, she asked "And readers are desperate to know who your heartthrob love interest is based on. There are a couple theories!" "Oh!" You laughed. You had written the book when you and Mat began seeing each other. The whole thing was littered with not-so-subtle mentions of him. A leading man with dark, wild hair, a fear of dogs, and an insane number of lines about his incredible nose and jawline. Readers had been quick to wonder who on earth could have inspired the character. "First of all is a buffer version of Timothee Chalamet," Trace laughed. "Since we all know he doesn't have those-" she subtly checked her notes, "-rippling back muscles that Duke Halard has." Your eyes went to Mat beyond the camera, who was hiding a laugh behind his hand. "Rippling?" He mouthed to you as if he hadn't read the book. He teased you incessantly about the thing. Not that you weren't extremely proud that millions of people had fallen in love with the version of Mat Barzal you saw. "Um- yeah, I definitely had a muse." You admitted. Then added, "Not Timothee Chalamet, though. Sorry to break the news." "Well, the fan favourite theory seems to be that you based him on-" she checked her notes again, which made you sure she had no idea who your boyfriend was as she said (and mispronounced), "hockey player... Mat Barzal?" You had to bite your tongue to stop from correcting the way she said his last name.

You had seen the fan theories. The way people had connected you and Mat from your similar posts, you being spotted at games, and other little things like that. But technically, none of that had ever been confirmed. You gave him a look that he seemed to understand since he nodded and smoothed out his crinkled shirt a little. God, you had tried fixing it for him. You held back an eye roll. "My muse is actually here! Can he come on? Is that okay?" Trace nodded at your question and Mat walked into view of the cameras, coming to stand by your chair. "This is my boyfriend, guys, take him in." Mat did a little spin to help with your point. "This is who you should picture while reading." You wagged a finger at the camera, then turned to Mat and said, "Okay, your job's done, you can go." "Okay, bye baby." He muttered to you, leaning down and kissing your hair before going back to his supportive place on the other side of the room. He sent you a thumbs-up and grinned. Trace gave you a moment to collect yourself from the public display and then asked, "So have you ever shown him publicly before?" "Nope." You told her, "So I hope you feel special."

Needless to say, twitter freaked the fuck out.

#adoristsposts #hockey #nhl #nhl fic #mat barzal #mat barzal fic #new york islanders #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal fluff #i could write about his nose and jawline for hours

[meetmyothersouls]

if you can write anything with jealous timothee that leads to smut I literally would go feral like your writing is so good I can’t

Feral you say???

Night Games

Warnings: smut, jealousy, making others jealous, not proof read, it won’t let me add my tag list?? 😭

"It's about time," Timothee whispered urgently as you snuck into his hotel room for the tenth time this month.

"I know, I know. I'm sorry, I didn't think it'd take that long to get away."

Timothee hadn't gotten up from the bed yet. He sat, waiting for you, his eye filled with heat, lust and something else. "What kept you?"

You opened your mouth to speak, then shut it. Hesitant to admit to him that Jake, an extra in the movie you and Timothee were working on together, flirted with you for over 45 minutes in hotel lobby. He grabbed pieces of your hair while you conversated and made eye contact that made your stomach flip just the tiniest bit. You hated to admit it, but if you weren't secretly dating Timothee, you'd definitely go for Jake.

Timothee sat on the bed, watching you as you blew off his question and took slow, deliberate steps towards him.

"Don't worry about it," you told him.

The look in Timothee's eyes changed in almost an instant. The lustful glossiness vanished, quickly changing into clear and evident a jealousy topped off with a hint of rage. Timothee tilted his head downward, peering up at you from under his eyebrows. If he did it intimidate you, it didn't work. You loved a psycho.

"Who kept you," he asked, changing the question slightly.

You stopped in your tracks, not expecting him to keep asking questions. It annoyed you. You rolled your eyes.

"It was Jake, wasn't it?"

"H-how'd you know?"

"That fucker's been trying to get into your pants the moment he arrived on set," Timothee said with a certain lethality that made your insides quiver. He got up, pulled a pair of gray sweats on and shoved unsocked feet into a pair of shoes.

"Uhm, where are you going?"

"To tell him your off limits."

He was already at the door, his hand twisting the knob when you ran in front of him, sliding between the hotel door and Timothee's body. There was heat radiating off of him - a mixture of anger and arousal - and it made you want him more than ever.

"He didn't try anything," you said, moving your palms from the door to his chest. His heart was hammering against your hands. Timothee was never super confrontational. In fact, you'd never seen him act this way until now. Possessive, jealous, angry.

You liked it.

"Yet," Timothee hissed. "If I don't tell him right now that you're mine and only mine, what's to stop him touching you next time? Kissing you next time? I can't have that."

You decided not to tell him about the hair touching.

"He doesn't we're seeing each other, Tim."

"Well then allow me to educate him."

His hand went for the knob again and he pulled open slightly even with your full weight pressed against it. You slammed your back against the door, slamming it shut again.

"Timothee, you know we can't tell anyone yet."

Timothee sighed, "I'm sick of other men looking at you thinking they can have you. They fucking undress you with their eyes and I want to hurt all of them. It makes me sick, y/n. They can't have you."

You never noticed men looking at you, but clearly, he did, and it ate him up inside. It was evident that this was something that had been bothering him for a while. Something that he'd been keeping to himself. You were about to tell him how you didn't want anyone else but him. How you'd pick him over-

Timothee smashed his lips into yours, hard. The back of your head bumped against the door, with a soft thud. His hands traveled up your shirt and under your bra. He grabbed your tits and squeezed them possessively. He wrapped his tongue around yours. You didn't bother fighting him for dominance. He needed to be the dominate one right now. He needed to know that you were his and you wanted him to feel powerful.

He kissed you like that, against the door, hands roaming your body for what felt like a blissful eternity. Then, one of his hands traveled down until it made its way into your pants. He rubbed you over your panties, which you had already soaked through. Timothee groaned at the feeling.

"So wet for me already, baby?" Timothee said, his voice a gravelly whisper.

"Need you," you whined.

He pulled his hand out enough to dip it back down into your panties. He ran a single finger through your slick center, grazing your clit. You hitched your breath at the contact. You needed more.

"Please," you moaned.

"Please what?"

"Touch me, please," you said, shamelessly swiveling your hips, desperate for his touch.

A slightly calloused index finger found your clit. He alternated between slow, deliciously agonizing circles and quick swipes up and down. Your legs shook as you approached an orgasm. You let out quick, breathy sighs until your back arched and your clit throbbed against his fingertips.

Already, your legs were weak when he withdrew his hand, glistening fingers covered in your fluids. Timothee raised his fingers to his mouth and sucked them clean.

"What a good girl," Timothee praised.

You reached for the waistband of his sweats, his cock pressing against the fabric, begging to be freed. You wanted to return the favor. You wanted his dick in your mouth. But Timothee had other plans. He gently swatted your hand away and began undressing you and when you stood there naked, he pulled his shirt off, and shoved his pants down to his ankles.

Your eyes glanced over at the bed, but Timothee shook his head.

"I'm fucking you against this door."

Before you had a chance to argue, he grabbed you under your ass, your back pressed against the door again, only this time your feet were off the ground. Instinctively, you wrapped your legs around his waist, leaving your pussy waiting for his entrance.

Timothee shifted you slightly, allowing his cock to slide in with minimal effort.

"If I can't tell anyone you're mine. They can listen the sound of me claiming you."

He pulled his cock out and slid back in hard with each word.

"All. Night. Long."

You could already feel your pussy clenching around him, this angle making him brush against your G-spot with every slide back in.

"Don't worry though, you make the prettiest little sounds when you come."

As if on cue, your eyes rolled back and you dug your nails into Timothee's shoulders, not caring about the nail marks you were leaving in his muscles. Timothee pulled out of you, letting you ride out your orgasm, and denying himself of his.

"You didn't-"

"No. Not yet. I'm not done with you yet."

A thud on the other side of the door made you yelp.

"Keep it down, assholes!"

You snorted, knowing exactly who it was on the other side.

"Is that Jake?" Timothee mouthed.

You nodded.

Without warning, Timothee shoved his cock deep inside of you. You gasped at the sudden impact.

"Oh, FUCK, y/n!" Timothee moaned loudly.

You knew exactly what he was doing, and you didn't care at all.

Tags: @imnotoverlyobsessive @dayafied @soulofendlessbook @fashphotolife @scentedkittenperfection @weasleytwinscumslut @mxciscastleintheair @marvelmaniac2000 @lovelyrocker @divine-1 @louievr @love-poems-only @starberry-cake @inlovewithphantasy @alexagirlie @misswestfall @softhecreator @livresjaunes @timmymyluv @inannamoon @harrys-thick-thighs @s-we-e-t-t-ea @timolaurence @ghsotfar @leecrunchybones @shahshhah @oddlyenoughiamweird @vampire-reanimator @xoxoloverb @kteezy997 @tropicalrozmajzl @lifeineverycolor @sabrinasonlyangel @violetsmutt @sufferingstarlight @timotheechalametfp @melancholic-alex @appleuser293858

#timothee chalamet #timothée chalamet #writing #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee chalamet x you #timothee blurb #timothee chalamet imagine #timmy chalamet #smut #dark!timothee