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#timothee fanfiction
houseofchalamet · 1 year
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Dating Timmy - Random Headcanons
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He always eats and leaves crumbs in the bed, so... enjoy that🙃
When he's sick, you bring him anything he wants, cuddle him, and rub his back.
And he does the same for you.
When you can't sleep at night, he'll sing to you. Whatever song you want.
Except Statistics.
And Yeet.
Sometimes when you shower, he'll sit on the bathroom floor like a puppy because he just wants to be with you.
His love language is physical touch, so he always wants to kiss and hug and cuddle.
It doesn't even have to be romantic touching, it can be something as small as your knees brushing while you're sitting next to each other. Just so he knows you're near him.
When you sit on the floor and do your makeup in the full length mirror, he'll sit and hug you from behind. Sometimes he'll rest his head on your shoulder and watch you through the mirror. It's especially cute early in the morning, when his hair is messy and he's blinking at you sleepily.
Sometimes he'll let you put some blush or lip gloss on him. He's adorable.
He knows you love his hair, so he lets you do whatever you want with it. Pigtails, braids, buns... One night, he let you straighten it.
You then realized that you'd made a huge mistake and forced him to wet it so it would curl again🫣
He holds your undershirt down for you when you take his your hoodies off.
You're both very private but your relationship definitely isn't a secret.
You're both extremely busy, but you try to have date night at least once a week.
It doesn't always have to be going out somewhere; sometimes it's just sitting at the table and playing a board game, baking something, or watching a movie in bed.
Just as long as you're together.
He likes to match his outfits to yours.
On the red carpet, but also just in daily life.
He's not a jealous person because he trusts you so much and he knows you'll never do anything to hurt him.
So he loves showing you off.
He's always weird about sharing his problems because of who he is; he feels like other people have it so much worse and he should just be grateful and not complain.
So he just acts like everything is fine, even when its not.
And of course, you know him better than anyone, so you know when something is bothering him.
It can take a while to coax it out, but eventually, he'll be honest and you can help him work through it.
He feels like you always know the right thing to say. He loves that about you.
You're more "online" than he is and you like to see what people say about him. His fans are so hilarious and creative. He likes it when you read funny tweets about him. He can see all the good stuff posted about him without having to sift through the hate; you're his own personal filter.
You get him into shitty reality TV.
He doesn't see the appeal at first, but after a few episodes, he's picking sides and needing to know what happens on Real Housewives of New Jersey.
Speaking of TV, he's very good at guessing the Masked Singers.
Like he gets it right almost every time.
Sometimes when you're sad, he'll do Pennywise's dance from It to make you laugh.
It never gets old.
He has a hundred notes in his phone with random things you've said. It's usually just a song or snack you mentioned in passing and he wants to remember it for later investigation.
You both start to use the same slang, phrases and references. You're literally the same person.
And sometimes no one else gets your references but you and Timmy. So one of you will say something and you'll both just die laughing while the rest of the room looks at you like wtf..
He's very good at taking Instagram photos and he loves to gas you up.
"Oooohh damn, you're so hot. Yes, do that! That's my (girl/guy)!"
The whole time he's looking at the phone and giving you the thumbs up like a proud mom videoing her child's dance recital.
He likes to open your car door for you.
He can be forgetful when he's stressed out.
"Timmy, your phone is in your hand."
"Timothee, your sunglasses are on your head."
No matter where you are, you like to watch the sunset together.
Sometimes you'll sneak a quote of something miniscule he said in a movie or smth into a normal conversation and he'll cringe.
Him: "Teresa is going to prison on RHONJ😧"
You: "I can do prison."
Him: "eufheufh why are you like this?"
You're his person🥺
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a/n: happy bones and all premiere!! i will not recover from this look anytime soon :))
summary: seeing timothee again at the Bones and All premiere after being away from him.
gravitation
Your knee bounces against the floor anxiously, rustling the skirt of the dress you’re wearing. Honestly, this isn’t where you want to be right now. Getting ready for a promo isn’t exactly your idea of a romantic reunion with your boyfriend, especially because it’s been a month since you’ve seen him.
Of course, you’re proud of him, and you’ll support him wholeheartedly no matter where. You just hoped that seeing him again would require less publicity and cameras.
It doesn’t really matter, though. Not when you’re so close to being in his arms, hearing his voice not distorted by bad signals and time zone hours.
Time moves in bursts and fits, flying by without your consent then deciding to slow down to match the pace of your attempt at even breathing. Finally, after what seems like hours in the hair and makeup chair after hours on a plane, you get the green light.
You don’t make a big entrance like the cast of the movie does: you’re only here to support Timothee. So, it goes relatively unnoticed when you sneak into the red carpet area, trying to get closest to the back as you can.
Immediately, you search for Timothee. He’s standing in the middle with Taylor, laughing at something together. It warms your heart to see him such good friend with someone he’s worked so devoutly with.
Then he sees you.
The cameras don’t matter. The screaming fans, the people shouting his name don’t matter. Not when you’re running towards him, looking angelic in a creamy white dress, gold bands around your arms, mouthing his name. The rest of the world goes silent as you touch his arm and look into his eyes, a dull ringing filling your ears. All you knows how to do is breathe in time with him and crush him right against your chest.
The flashes and shutters that capture your reunion are background to the sound of his heartbeat, his voice saying your name like a prayer.
“I missed you so fucking much,” he murmurs into your cheek, hand cupping your waist gently. “I’m never letting you go to work again, I swear.” You laugh and hold him closer to you, the skin of his back warm and smooth, uncovered by the red fabric.
Reluctantly, you let him go and turn to the crowd, shrugging with a grin and clasping Timothee’s hand in yours. You work together easily, posing and smiling for pictures, his hand on your back, supporting you.
“I’m going to go stand to the side,” you tell him after the pictures are taken. This isn’t your moments, it’s his and all of the other people who worked so hard on the movie’s. “I’ve already taken enough of the spotlight.”
He frowns and keeps you near. “You’re not stealing anything. I want you. Here. By my side.”
“I can be by your side metaphorically,” you suggest. “From over there.”
“But-don’t you want to to be with me?” You heart breaks at the crushed sound of his voice.
“I do, baby, I promise I do. But this isn’t my day, it’s yours,” you say softly, smiling at him. “Nothing would make me happier than watching you do your thing.”
“Are you sure?” he asks uncertainly. “I know we haven’t seen each other in forever.”
“Of course.” It’s easy, putting yourself aside for him. “We can catch up later. I’ve waited a month to see you, I can wait a few more hours. I promise.”
He still doesn’t look convinced, but you try your best to smile at him reassuringly. “I’m not going to keep you to myself, as much as I want to. I get to see you all the time, some of these people will never have the chance to see you again. Let me do this for you, for you.”
Finally, finally, he smiles and brings your hand up to kiss your knuckles gently. “Thank you, baby. You never cease to amaze me.”
“I hope I never do,” you grin, taking a step back. Before walking away, you add, “You look good, baby.” His smile widens and he clasps his hands in front of him, looking pleased. “I like the red.”
“I had to do something to catch your eye,” he responds with a grin, adding a flourish and gesturing to himself. “Do you think it worked?”
“I do,” you laugh. “But you don’t have to dress up to make me notice you. You’re hot shit, no matter what you’re wearing.”
“You really know how to make a guy feel special,” he deadpans.
“I try my hardest.” With that, you turn and walk away, leaving him to greet his fans.
He can call you selfless all he wants, but you would never complain. Watching him with fans is one of your favorite things to do; it’s one of your favorite things about him too. He’s always so enthusiastic and genuinely excited to see them. It’s refreshing and enduring as shit.
Eventually, he’s whisked inside, where food and drinks are waiting. You follow along behind, taking a champagne glass between your fingers.
You’re looking around, trying to find Timothee, when strong arms wrap around you and words are whispered in your ear. “Hi, honey.” You melt into him, going lax again his back, letting him take your weight.
“Hi, baby. How’s your night going?” You lean your head backwards against his shoulder, his hair tickling your cheek.
“Good,” he breathes, turning you around in his arms to face him. “Yours?”
“Perfect,” you smile, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. It falls right back into his eyes, and you leave it as is. “Can’t wait to see the movie. I know you worked hard.”
He hums in agreement runs his hands along your arms, sharing them up and down. “I’m excited for you to see it. Then, afterwards, I’m all yours, whatever you want to do with me.”
“Promises, promises,” you joke. The silk of his shirt is cool and smooth underneath your fingertips as you drag your hands up his chest. “Don’t rush because of me. Take your time and do all that fancy movie talking you like to do. I’ll be there by your side to listen to you, but no promises on chiming in.”
“Right now all I want to do is curl up in our bed and watch old movies all night,” he admits softly. You know that your eyes are soft and adoring, focused only on him.
“As fucking amazing as that sounds, I think we should probably see this to the end. You know, because it’s your movie and all.” You can’t keep the fondness from creeping into your voice as you continue. “It looks like you’re having fun, Timmy. I’ll be here when you’re done. Old movies and cuddles can happen any night, this only happens once. Enjoy it.”
“Why do you have to make so much sense?” he sighs, pouting like a little kid.
“Because one of us has to,” you say, matter-of-fact. “And it’s not you.”
With a grin, he accepts his role and brightens. “I have something for you.” He produces the pair of black sunglasses he was wearing earlier and holds them out to you.
“Your sunglasses?” you ask skeptically, the edge of a smile on your face.
“Yep,” he says, popping the ‘p.’ He unfolds them and places them on your head, smiling widely and looking pleased with himself. “There.”
You can’t help the way you smile at him. You also can’t help how you gravitate towards him the rest of the night, staying as close as you can without hovering. Timothee would never complain about you being close to him, but you want to give him his space, his night.
You’ll be here when it’s over, waiting with open arms for him to be just yours. But right now, the world is waiting for him, wanting to see him, and you’re happy to step back. Everyone gets caught in his pull, his gravity, yourself included. That’s something you’ve come to accept, you’ve grown to work around. It’s taken years, it’s taken effort, but it’s worth it to see him smile. To see him succeed.
At the end of the day, you’re the one he comes home to. The one he slow dances with in the kitchen and curls up with under heavy blankets.
He’s your gravity and you’re his orbital, chasing him around, happy to be a part of his life.
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hemmingsleclerc · 3 months
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''Is it obvious?'' Timothée Chalamet
timothée chalamet x fem!reader
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ynln
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Liked by tchalamet, tomholland13 and 1,482,794 others
ynln miss shooting w these people
username ugh I would love to know if timmy and yn know each other in rl
username fav cast ever
username give us more bts pics!!!
zendaya my girlllll ❤️
tomholland13 🙌
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tchalamet
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Liked by zendaya, ynln and 1,583,753 others
tchalamet DUNE BTS
username since when yn follows timmy omg
username for a while now!!!
username YES KINGGG
username does anyone know if zendaya and timmy are dating?
username Idk but some fans say she has something with tom
enews
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Liked by 240,489 others
enews timothee chalamet was seen with a girl in the airport this morning looking very close sources confirm
username WHAT HOW WHEN!?
username WHO IS SHEEEEE
username I think I know that sweater
username pls everyone can have a sweater of that color...
username he looks so happy😭💕
ynln posted a story!
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caption:💗💗
seen by 29,593,593
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tchalamet has posted a story
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caption: rainy days with the best company🙌❤️
seen by: 27,583,017
yndaily
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Liked by tomholland13, paulinechalamet and 184,952 others
yndaily NO WAY YN AND TIMOTHÉE KISSING TODAY IN NY
username WHAT !?
username NO.WAY
username I KNEW IT ''JUST FRIENDS'' MY ASS
ynln
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Liked by tchalamet, zendaya, tomholland13 and 22,583,376 others
ynln I picked the right one ❤️
tagged: tchalamet
tchalamet MY GIRL!!!! ❤️💃💃💋
zendaya 🥺💕
tomholland congrats mates!
blakelively so so happy for you two!!
vancityreynolds blake's crying for you but anyway, congratulations kids! but keep those photos for yourselves xx
liked by ynln and tchalamet
comments on this post are limited
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violetrainbow412-blog · 4 months
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A fair payment [W. W.]
Willy Wonka x fem!reader
word count: 1.5k
People who might be interested: @strugglingwriterwattpad @cattail5 [Timothée masterlist]
some minor Wonka spoilers I guess! If you like it, tell me in the comments, that will make me happy :)
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“Can you mend it?” Willy asked, carefully holding his emerald green jacket that had the sleeve seam torn.
The boy had arrived a couple of weeks ago to turn the world of everyone present in the laundry upside down and, honestly, you were already beginning to enjoy his presence. You looked in the background at the blackboard that Noodle used at night to give him lessons in the hope that he would learn to read because, according to the girl's words, because of that he was almost eaten by a tiger. But in the man's words, what was important was the almost part. 
However, tonight he had asked you especially to go to his room, because he had a problem that he thought only you could solve.
“I think so, I just have to pass the needle a couple of times” you smiled.
Since your arrival Mrs. Scrubbit had used your sewing skills for her own benefit, because after all you had ended up in that mess trying to save a little to be able to buy the necessary materials to make a pretty dress that would be worth enough to advance in the business. Although, obviously, that had not been possible.
"Thank you! I'm afraid that's my only jacket."
“It will be ready in no time. I’ll just go to my room and come back, okay?” you said kindly, placing the garment in the boy's lap and earning a sweet smile from the aforementioned.
Just as Willy had his little briefcase for his chocolates, you had your own, full of threads, needles, and buttons, which you just had to grab from the floor to get everything you needed. When you arrived back you settled at the little table and he remained attentive to your every movement, pulling out a chair so he could observe what you were about to do.
“There was a boy on the ship who helped me with these things,” he began to tell you, keeping his curious nose on your shoulder “But I never thought about learning. You know, for when I had to be alone”
“Well, it's lucky you ended up here. We are a curious collection of workers,” you murmured ironically, referring to all the people gathered there against their will by the work of fate "What did you do on the ship?"
"Cook. Mostly sweet things, but I also know a couple of useful non-chocolate-related recipes. I was the chef,” he said, and you laughed at the exaggerated way he pronounced the last bit.
Willy began to tell you about some of the adventures he had had on the high seas and you listened attentively as the tip of the needle went in and out to join the fabric. It only took a few minutes to get his clothes looking like new, taking the liberty of repairing other places that also needed it.
“Put it on,” you asked, trying not to look at him too much when he did so or pay attention to the way the jacket fit him perfectly.
"It is perfect! You can't even tell it was torn, huh?” he said with emotion, feeling with his hands as much as he could. “How much do I owe you?”
“Oh, it's nothing.”
“I insist,” the man murmured. His curly hair bounced across his cheeks as he sat next to you and he lifted his small briefcase off the floor, opening it to reveal all the little bottles of ingredients. “Your talent for mine. It's a fair exchange."
You had to admit that the chocolates you had eaten were a complete delicacy, but a part of you didn't want to get used to that luxury or you knew that when Willy was gone you would miss his sweetness. In the literal and figurative sense.
Locked in that laundry it was impossible to meet many people your age and Noodle was your greatest company, as if he were a little sister to you. But now that he was there, there was a certain happiness in chatting with him, much more now that his ingenious mind had devised a way to get you out of there even if it was just for a few hours to see the light of day and get coins from the sale of the chocolates to free you of the enormous debt to Mrs. Scrubbit.
“What flavor do you want to try today? Do you want me to add some unicorn skin glitter? Rays of sunlight from a twilight on the seashore? Tears of an African crocodile?”
“Just give me something you think I need,” you replied softly.
Willy thought about it for a moment, because it wasn't the kind of answer he would have expected. What was he supposed to give you that night? A little hope? Happiness? Nostalgia? It was difficult to decide.
Through his bright eyes you watched him reflect and just a second later his hands began to work. You noticed there was a hint of mischief in his smile as he poured milk, chocolate, and the contents of a couple of jars into the processor, glancing at you from the corner of his eye from time to time.
“What are you going to do when we get out of here?” he asked suddenly, not neglecting the tasks.
“Working in a sewing workshop, I guess.”
“Why don't you open your own fashion house?” Willy suggested carefreely, as if it were a very easy thing to do, “You are a great dressmaker.”
“And you are a great dreamer”
“It's my best quality,” he exclaimed, almost offended. You waited a moment before answering.
“I just don't think it's that simple. It requires effort, time, and a lot of money…”
“We will have everything,” he interrupted you, with that optimism that characterized him. Suddenly he stopped what he was doing and one of his hands traveled to take yours. “When I open my factory, we will all be able to fulfill our dreams. And you are going to have a fashion house, I promise you.”
“You make a lot of promises,” you responded, blushing.
“And he planned to fulfill them all. I always do it"
Maybe there was something about the softness of his grip on your hand or perhaps the sparkle in his eyes that made you look away out of sheer nervousness. He seemed to be good and innocent, to the point that he probably didn't even realize how close he was to you or how inappropriate the position would be if Noodle ever walked in.
A tap interrupted your moment and then he abruptly pulled away, excited to show you the product he had just made. It was a pretty circular candy that was bright pink and seemed to be emanating smoke from the inside.
"What's that?"
“You'll have to try it to find out,” he murmured, as he extended the treat in your direction.
You had to admit that you were somewhat curious to discover what the man was offering you, so you took it between your fingers carefully, and even under his watchful gaze you took a bite.
At first it tasted like ordinary chocolate, but then it took on a strange tone, which made you feel a certain warmth in your chest that spread to your cheeks. It was a most pleasant feeling, like bubbly joy combined with the embarrassment of a hug.
You thought for a moment about what flavor that could be, without any success, until after a few seconds you realized that it wasn’t a flavor in itself, but a feeling, an experience... Was it love that Willy had given you?
“How does it taste?”
“Yummy,” you responded, covering your mouth so he wouldn’t see the wet chocolate on your tongue, but also to hide your smile “Delicious, actually. What does it contain?”
“A special and secret ingredient”
"Oh, come on! Aren’t you going to tell me?”
“I just want to know if I got it right,” he murmured and you frowned slightly, not understanding him “About what you asked for. Did I give you something you needed?”
You had to bite your lip to keep from smiling again, your cheeks feeling hot from the simple fact that he was looking at you. You thought that this could even be a love potion that you had consumed without thinking about it, just because he was the one who was offering it to you.
“We could say yes”
“We're even, then,” he exclaimed as he waved the sleeve of his jacket and you nodded in amusement, eating the rest of the chocolate he had made for you.
A yawn leaving your lips made you aware of how exhausted you were and although you didn't love the idea, you knew it was time to leave.
“It's late, I should go to sleep before we wake anyone up.”
“Yes, yes, of course,” Willy said quickly, getting up from his seat to accompany you to the exit. “I'll see you tomorrow.”
“Rest,” you said kindly, and, gathering courage, you leaned forward a little to say goodbye with a hug that he gladly returned.
As you walked down the hall to your shabby, damp room, you thought that it probably wouldn't have even taken a love potion to fall for the charms of the pleasant chocolatier. You just needed one of his smiles.
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lixzey · 5 months
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forever yours.
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Timothée Chalamet, cheating on Kylie Jenner? The Wonka actor was spotted kissing an unknown woman in Los Angeles!
You stared at the article on your phone, your hands shaking. You knew you shouldn't think about it; after all, you and Timothée have been dating for four years, and he loves you—only you. But nobody knew that, though. He was a world-famous actor, and you were someone who just so happened to have his heart. You two had decided to keep the relationship low-key and private, away from the chaotic world of Hollywood. Nobody outside of both of your families and friends knew who you were or what you looked like.
You sighed, plopping down on the bed in your boyfriend's apartment. You have been living with him for the last two years, and you loved every bit of it. Timothée was the sweetest boyfriend; he loved to spoil you. He gives you everything that you deserve and more—his words, not yours. You couldn't ask for anything more; you were happily content with the love of your life.
But you still can't brush off the fact that in this story, you were the bad guy. 
It all started in December 2022, when Timothée was forced to date Kylie Jenner. His management thought that it would be beneficial for him, seeing that Kylie was Forbes' youngest self-made billionaire and had tons of fans, maybe more than Timothée had. At first, your boyfriend was reluctant. He didn't want to date anyone else other than you. You two argued, but in the end, you convinced him that it would be good for his career. 
Timothée signed the contract, and he was obligated to date the youngest daughter of Kris Jenner. 
It started with little appearances like Kylie showing up at your home, and you had to leave or hide because there were paparazzis all over the perimeter of your house. Your boyfriend was absolutely apologetic that you had to pretend that you were not his, and it broke his heart to see you smile from the sidelines. 
You assured him that everything's alright. You were okay with everything, as long as, at the end of the day, he came back home to you. 
Some Timothée's fans were hopelessly praying that it was all some sort of PR stunt—which it actually was, but you signed a non-disclosure agreement. You had no choice but to keep it to yourself. Their 'relationship' went on and on, giving the people the benefit of the doubt. 
Until early September, when the PR team decided that it was time to make it public.
You were a little bit heartbroken when you saw it on social media. It was at Beyoncé's birthday concert, a celebrity-studded event, which made it the perfect opportunity to show off their relationship. The way Kylie Jenner had her hands all over your man made your blood boil. Timothée looked uncomfortable, but he didn't have any other choice. You wanted to go and just punch that plastic woman for having her claws all over your boyfriend, but you couldn't do anything. You hated it, but you couldn't bring yourself to admit it. Because if you did, Timothée would drop it before you could even say no. 
The way your boyfriend has his arms wrapped around that plastic bitch made you want to slap her and tear off all the plastic she had in her fake body. The way she kissed your man made you want to feed her to the sharks in the Atlantic Ocean. The way your boyfriend had his hand over her ass made you want to go and make a deal with the devil to rid the world of that woman, and maybe chop off your boyfriend's hands while you're at it. But again, you couldn't do a thing. You were left to watch while another woman pawed at your man. 
Timothée did everything to make it up to you. He would always assure you that it was all for show and nothing more. He loved you, only you, and he would never dream of hurting you. You knew that, of course, but you can't help getting annoyed by it—you won't tell him that though, because you couldn't. 
But now you were a homewrecker, a slut. 
Apparently, someone saw you and your boyfriend kissing. It was your fourth anniversary. Timothée had brought you to your favorite restaurant in Los Angeles and was enjoying the night, celebrating four years of love. After a bit of wine, he kissed you, like he always did—momentarily forgetting his 'girlfriend'. 
The next day, the photo of you and your boyfriend kissing was all over the internet. People were calling you a homewrecker, a slut, a whore, and more. You practically had death threats filling up semi-trucks. People were telling you who you are, and you didn't have a choice, all because you loved Timothée. 
All of this for what? Celebrating four years with the man you love? 
You buried your face in your hands, trying to muffle your sobs. You felt like the whole world was against you, like you were the villain in some twisted fairytale. What did you do to even deserve any of this? You just wanted to be with your man, but the world had other plans. 
“Mon amour? Are you here?” A voice echoed from downstairs. You wiped away the tears from your eyes, putting on another fake smile as you walked down. 
“Hey, love. Are you hungry?” You asked, voice breaking. Timothée looked at you, and you knew he knew something was wrong. You mentally kicked yourself for being so utterly stupid.
“What's wrong, mon amour?” Timothée asked, stepping forward and wrapping you in his arms. 
“Nothing, it's alright.” You lied. You were getting pretty good at lying, not that you were proud of it. 
Timothée sighed, his arms wrapping you tighter against his body. “Y/n, please, baby. I know something's wrong; you've been crying.” You could hear his heartbeat, the loud thumping in his chest calming you. You sighed loudly, burying your face into his chest, the smell of his cologne invading your nostrils. You pulled away abruptly, and the look of confusion on his face made your heart wrench inside your chest.
“I'm okay, don't worry.” 
Timothée cupped your face in his hands, your eyes meeting his. “Y/n, please, mon amour. Just tell me, I just want to help.” 
You took a deep breath. It was now or never. “Have you seen the tabloids?”
Timothée sighed, knowing it was about his fake relationship again. “Can you tell me what it is, baby? I'm sorry I haven't checked out the news.”
“It's just....it's silly, honestly.”
“It's not silly if it's bothering you, my love.” 
“Someone saw us kissing yesterday, and it's all over the tabloids.” you mumbled, your eyes glued to the floor. 
“Oh, baby,” Timothée whispered. “I'm so sorry; I dragged you into this. It's all my fault.” he muttered.
Your heart broke when he said it was his fault. It wasn't; it was the people who were quick to judge. “It isn't your fault, Tim.” 
“It is, baby. I shouldn't have agreed to that PR stunt. I should've just turned it down and spent all of my time with you instead-” You cut him off with your lips crashing with his. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him as he deepened the kiss. You felt all of your worries evaporate into thin air, and all that mattered was him. The man you have spent four years with, the man you see a future with. 
You pulled away, making him growl as the feeling of your lips left his. You chuckled, kissing him on the cheek. “I love you.”
“I love you more, baby. But….” 
Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “But what, baby?” You asked worriedly. 
“Can I see what the article says? And anything else related to it?” 
Your eyes widened slightly. It was one thing for you to read all of those horrid things people have written about you, but Timothée? He would break at the words people have said about you, and you couldn't live with him thinking his fans were horrible to the woman he loves. 
“Baby….” 
“Please, mon amour? You don't deserve to get all the hate.”
You playfully raised an eyebrow, trying to diffuse the tension. “Who said I was getting hate?” 
Timothée chuckled. “I know Hollywood.”
You let out a deep sigh as you rubbed your temples. “It's horrible, mon amour.” 
“I don't care; I still love you no matter what.” 
“You really want to read it?”
“Yes, I do.” 
You opened your phone and showed him one of the videos on TikTok about the articles. 
timmyfan1: omg timmy cheated on kylie with her? yuck, homewrecker. 
kyliestan_: such a slut, going after someone else's boyfriend.
timotheestan: die bitch
– timobaby: yeah, go die in a ditch you slut. 
– kyjennerbaby: not timothée's fans wanting the girl to die 😭
timotheechalamalabingbong: not timothée throwing away his relationship and career for this girl 😭 
kyliebaby: poor kylie, got her heart broken by this douchebag
jennersisters: anyone want to help me find that girl and slap the shit outta her?
– user1: count me in! 
– user2: me too! i'm gonna drag that little bitch down 
“I'm so sorry, mon amour,” Timothée whispered as he turned the phone off. “You don't deserve any of this.” 
You smiled sadly at him. “I know, but this is nothing.”
“No, it's not nothing. They want you to die, and that's not okay…” 
“I don't have any plans on dying, Timmy.” You chuckled. 
"But…but...”
"No buts. I know it hurts, but we have to live with it. I have to live with it. You'll just have to focus on your career, okay?” 
Timothée sighed in defeat. “You're the most precious person in this world; you don't deserve this.”
“And you know it.” You smiled, grabbing his hand in yours. “I don't care about their words anymore, as long as I have you.”
“I don't deserve you.” 
“You do; you deserve me and more.” You chuckled, kissing his knuckles. “I love you, no matter what.”
“I love you, Y/n, I love you so fucking much.” Timothée planted a soft kiss on your lips before pulling you again to his chest. “I'm yours, forever yours.”
You sighed contentedly, melting at his touch, feeling comfort and love in your boyfriend's arms. The only thing that mattered in that moment was you and him; no one could ever take away your happiness. 
Your boyfriend, your Timothée, yours. 
@helens3amstuff @gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @lovemelikecrazyiloveyoucrazy @tchalamss @tchalamss @ashlynnmalfoy @crazycat-ladys-blog @michakune @mxltifxnd0m @spencerr3idd @dangelnleif @sthkate @ferrjulie @imnotoverlyobsessive @mel-vaz @elsagreeer @lovely-maryj @meowmeowmau @bobthe-turmpetman29 @saintcosette
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xxbimbobunnyxx · 21 days
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Her Emperor, His Destiny
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(Alpha!Paul Atreides x Omega!BeneGesserit!Reader)
Summary: Ever since Paul presented no omega has smelled remotely appealing to him. His only reprieve is his dreams that have been filled with nothing but an angelic voice calling out to him, the silhouette of a woman he can’t quite make out, and the sweetest saccharine smell. Wk: 3.2k
Warnings: General omegaverse behaviors, knotting, scenting, marking, breeding, Paul and reader are a soul bound pair, inappropriate use of the voice(by both Paul & Reader) , fluff, kinda love making? Idk this is much softer than my usual smut. I think that’s it, lmk if I missed any!! 18+MNDI!!
A/N: Listen… I know this is left field for me but I made a promise to myself that I would start writing for ME again, and that means writing whatever I want. I saw Dune 2 and I couldn’t get this idea out of my head. Paul is so alpha coded I feel like it was dropped in my lap.
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Paul expected the air to be different, smell different, out in the desert planes of Arkkis. Thus far it’s as he expected. The smell of spice and sand permeate the air to the point that it’s over powering, flooding every single one of your senses. The sand lingers on any inch of exposed skin practically borrowing its way underneath. The smell of spice is so strong that it feels like it’s drowning you, invading your lungs and nostrils, coating them, leaving your insides feeling like sandpaper if you dare breathe it in.
But as he follows Stilgar into the sietch he can’t even be bothered with the glares and sideways glances from the Freman because the further they walk the more his senses are hit with an overwhelmingly saccharine smell. It was like someone was baking the finest pastry mixed with a warm milk bath on a cold winter's day. He had only ever smelled something as sweet as this in his dreams. A scent he’s dreamed of so vividly that it lingered in his nostrils when he woke, but he’s never caught a whiff of it in waking hours until now. There was no doubt in his mind that this is the same scent. The scent that’s haunted him every night since he presented. The scent of his omega, his destined mate.
“I can hear and smell you scenting back there, Paul Atreides… I suggest you get your pheromones under control before we enter.” Stilgar looks back at him with an apprehensive look and Paul apologizes nodding in agreement. “Mating is a very sacred thing to my people. Each pair must be approved and blessed by the high priestess. And all unmated omegas rooms are on the opposite side of the alphas. It is very important that you follow all rules, but especially this one. Do you understand?”
“Yeah, I understand.” He understood the rule but does that mean he was going to follow it? He could certainly try. But that scent was intoxicating and the closer they got to the sietch the stronger it got. He knows given the chance, he’d break that rule in an instant. Consequences be damned.
“Many wait for their soul bound mate and majority of them die alone, never finding the one.” Paul found this odd. Soul bounds are few and far between nowadays and he comes from a place where mating is a transaction, a bargain, something of power and not of love. But as that sugary sweet scent swirls around him, almost making him dizzy, he thinks he might understand wanting to wait for your one. It’s been a few years now since he presented and no omega has ever smelled even remotely appealing to him. They either smelled of nothing or downright revolting, his only reprieve was in his dreams. His dreams filled with that sugary smell and the figure of a woman whose face he could never quite make out.
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When Stilgar pulled his mother aside Paul found himself alone in a room filled with stares. Some looked at him in awe, certain he was their long awaited Maud’Dib. Others looked at him with disdain, snickering to each other as they shamelessly pointed his way. But he honestly wasn’t concerned with any of it, because as he sat against the stony wall the scent was stronger than ever. He could almost taste it. His eyes searched the room, craving nothing more than to put a face to the smell that has nearly become his drug. But as he looked across the various faces surrounding him, no one stuck out to him.
But he was certain she was in this room, if not this one than the next. That warm saccharine scent was so close it was as if it were right next to him. That’s when he feels a tap on his shoulder, causing him to jump. Either this person was stealthy or he was so lost in thought he didn’t hear them approaching but when his head whips around to see who it is he feels like his heart is going to burst. He hears the sound of bells ringing, a sound that he’s only heard in the churches back home. There standing over him is the most ethereal woman he’s ever seen, beautiful, perfect, sweet smelling, you.
“Hello, Paul Atreides, I’ve been waiting for you.” You smile down at him sweetly, your eyes filled with adoration. You aren’t dressed like the Fremen, no tans or browns or stillsuit to be found. A black silky dress adorns your form, fitting you perfectly. There’s a sheer midnight colored scarf wrapped around your head and shoulders, framing your face like the greatest work of art. You weren’t Fremen. You were a Bene Gesserit. Or at the very least, one in training.
“I think… I’ve been waiting for you too.” Paul’s voice is trance-like, looking up at you like you hung all the stars in the sky. The sound of the voice you’ve heard so many times in your slumber sending chills down your spine.
“Won’t you come with me? I have so much to tell you.” You look at him eagerly, offering him your danity ringed hand.
“I don’t know if I’m… supposed to…” He wants nothing more than to follow you. He would follow you into one of the suns of Arakkis if you asked him to. But he knew he was already on thin ice here and he feared what would happen to him and his mother if he were to upset anyone further.
“Do not bother with them, they will see the way. They will see what I’ve seen. Soon they will be cheering your name. Come.”
Paul scans the room, all eyes are on the two of you but when he looks back at your reassuring smile it’s like no one else matters, no one else exists. He takes your hand, letting you pull him along through hallways and far away from prying eyes. You drag him into a room that he assumes is yours, shutting the door behind you.
“Have you dreamt of me, Paul?” You sit on the bed and pull the scarf from your head, leaning back on your palms. You look so beautiful and the room is engulfed in your scent. It clings to every inch of the space and radiates off of you in waves.
“Yes… have you dreamt of me?” He takes an apprehensive step toward you, leaving a few feet of distance between the two of you. His green eyes feel as if they’re eating you alive and the scent of him causes slick to rush into your panties.
“Yes, every night since I presented as an omega my dreams have been filled with nothing but you. And more recently I’ve had visions of you in my waking hours. Will you tell me, Paul, about your dreams?” Your voice is as sweet as your scent. The way you’re leaning back on your hands makes the silk of your dress taunt against your breasts, your peaked nipples on display. The sight of you and the unmistakable smell of your slick makes his cock stir in his pants.
“They aren’t very vivid… mostly just flashes of you from behind, the sound of your voice, you were always saying ‘come to me Paul, for I am your destiny’ but your scent? That was so clear to me.” He takes another step forward, reaching a hand out as if he’s going to touch you but he lets it fall to his side, like he thought better of it. “I didn’t know it was possible to have a sense of smell in your dreams, but night after night I was surrounded by your scent as I slept.”
“I could smell you as well and I smelled you the minute you arrived. But my dreams are much more detailed than yours. There is much you do not know.” You approach him, closing the small distance between you. You rest your hands on his chest, looking up at him with hooded eyes. “Would you like me to tell you about them?”
“I’d love nothing more, omega.” His thumb gently caresses the apple of your cheek before traveling down to push some of your hair off your shoulder. He’s looking down at you expectantly, eagerly waiting for you to speak.
“Your dreams are correct, I am your destiny, and you are mine. I can feel the doubt in your heart, feel that you do not believe in yourself, do not believe that you are the Maud’Dib but you are, sweet Paul. For I have seen it.”
“Tell me? What have you seen?” He searches your eyes for signs of doubt or deceit but all he sees is truth there. Truth and the same adoring look you gave him when he first saw you.
“I’ve seen you learning the ways of the Fremen. I’ve seen you move them, rally them. I’ve seen a battle in which you win. I’ve seen you upon the emperor's throne, ruling over all, with me by your side, our child in my arms.” Your hands travel from his chest to take his face in your soft palms where you rub soothing circles on his temples.
“You saw… all of that?” Paul’s voice sounded exasperated, like what you’ve told him took all the breath from his lungs. He feels like it has. The finality and bluntness in which you speak tell him that your words are true.
“Yes, and more. There will be plenty of time to tell you about it all. But right now? I need you.” Right as the words leave your mouth a gush of slick drips down your legs. The presence of your mate triggering your heat weeks early.
“Tell me what you need, omega.” His voice drops an octave, taking on that deep alpha tone. It makes your heart speed up as another gush of slick drips from your core. You can’t help but think what it would be like if he used The Voice on you. Regularless of how absolutely blasphemous that would be considered.
“I need you, alpha. I need your cock. I need you to fill me up and lock your seed inside me with your knot.” Paul lets out a growl before reaching out, one hand gripping onto your hip to pull you flush against him and the other going to the back of your neck so he could connect his lips with your own.
The kiss starts off rough, eager, and hungry. But after a few moments his lips become tender against your own, his fingers threading through your hair as his tongue swipes across your bottom lip. You grant him access, immediately intertwining his tongue with your own, moaning at the taste of him.
“I’ll give you whatever you want, my moon. Ask for it and it is yours.” He kisses down your jaw to your throat where he runs the tip of his nose along your scent gland, inhaling deeply. “You wish for me to make love to you? Then I shall.”
Paul pushes the thin straps of your satin dress down your shoulders, kissing along the column of your throat, your collar bones, across your shoulders. You drop your arms so the straps fall the rest of the way down, the dress slipping down your body with them. Leaving you bare before him aside from the thin black material of your panties.
“Absolutely beautiful, angelic.” He runs the back of his hand down your cheek, your jaw, your neck, all the way down until his back knuckles are caressing the tender peaks of your nipples. He slides it across your chest, giving the other the same treatment before taking both of your tits in his hands. He gently squeezes them, pinching your hardened nipples between his fingers, eliciting little whimpers from you.
“I heard your mother has been teaching you our ways. How is your training?” Paul raises an eyebrow at you, certainly wondering why you’re asking him about that at a time like this. “I only ask because I was wondering if you might want to practice on me.”
“Do you mean…?” He looks at you with wide eyes and you smirk, biting your lip.
“That’s exactly what I mean. I can feel your apprehension, don’t be afraid, I want this.” You lean into him, smashing his hands that are still on your chest between your bodies as you lean up to you run your nose along his scent gland, darting your tongue out to taste the sweat and spice that coat his skin. He grabs onto your shoulders, pushing you back so he can look in your eyes, searching for any signs of doubt. But as every other time he’s looked in your eyes tonight, he’s seen nothing but honesty there. Nothing but truth.
“Get on the bed on your back. Spread your legs.” Your body immediately reacts, doing exactly as he asks. Paul approaches the foot of the bed, standing between your spread legs. “That’s a good girl.”
His hands grip onto your knees, pushing your legs further apart, leaning down to shove his face between your legs. His nose runs along the soaked material of your panties, deeply inhaling the sugary sweet smell of your slick.
“Alpha, please.”
“You do not have to beg, my moon. I’m going to give you exactly what you want.” Paul smirks up at you before lacing his fingers into the band of your panties and ripping them in half. He runs his tongue up your slit, circling it around your sensitive clit. The feeling of his hot wet mouth has you coming undone instantly, your slick gushing all over his chin and down his neck where it drips onto his shirt. He moans at the taste, sweeter than anything that’s ever graced his taste buds. “Yes, that’s my good little omega, give it all to me, let me drink in your sweet nectar.”
He dives back in, shoving his tongue as deep into your pussy as it can go, fucking you with it. His lips come up to wrap around your clit while his fingers circle your dripping entrance. He runs his fingers through your folds before shoving them knuckle deep inside of you.
“Oh fuck! I’m going to cum again, I’m gonna cum.” You move your hips against his face as he curls his fingers against your sweet spot, your legs clamp around his head and your entire body shakes as your high washes over you. Paul pushes himself up from the bed, ridding himself of his clothes before climbing back over to you, situating himself on top of you with his hands on either side of your head. His hard cock is resting against your lower stomach, the tip leaking precum onto your skin.
“I want to taste you too.” You run your fingers through his hair, pushing it out of his face. You didn’t even care that the ache between your legs wouldn’t be satiated until he was inside you, you needed to taste him.
“Next time. I need to be inside you now.” It comes out a soft whisper, his forehead resting against your own. He reaches between your bodies, taking his cock in his hand and lining it up with your entrance. He connects his lips with your own, kissing you passionately as he begins to push inside you. You both moan as he bottoms out, his hips flush against your own. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, slipping your tongue into his mouth as his thrusts begin to pick up.
“Mmm you feel amazing, my love, my lord, my emperor.” Paul looks into your eyes as he continues to fuck you at a linguid pace, rolling his hips against your own as he pushes himself as deep inside you as possible.
“My moon, my destiny.” He picks up the pace, pushing up on his knees and wrapping your legs around his hips. Your tits jiggle with every thrust, the fucked out love sick gaze that you send his way makes his skin even hotter.
“I want you to fill me up, alpha. Fill me with your cum. Put a pup in me. So we can fulfill our prophecy.” Paul snakes a hand between the two of you, connecting his thumb with your clit so he can rub circles on it in time with his thrusts.
“Open your mouth.” The sound of him using The Voice makes your walls clench around him, your jaw dropping open at his command. He leans down, letting the spit that had collected in his mouth drip down into your tongue. “Swallow it.”
You swallow with an audible gulp. Your heart warming at the gesture that anywhere else would be considered lewd but here on Arakkis to share one’s sacred spit with another was a grand gesture of love.
“Thank you, my love. You taste better than the finest feast. I cannot wait to know what your cum tastes like.” Paul groans at that, his eyes rolling in the back of his head. His thrusts start to grow sloppy but he refuses to finish before you do.
“Cum for me.” As soon as the words leave his mouth your walls are convulsing around him, sucking him as your slick soaks his cock.
“Mark me, Paul. Sink your teeth into my flesh and bind us together as we are meant to be.” You tug on his arms, pulling his upper half so it’s draped over you, his face buried in your neck. His thrusts become slow and deep again, his cock hitting that perfect spot inside you.
“But Stilgar said…” He groans, using every ounce of strength in his body to not just sink his teeth into your soft neck.
“I do not care what Stilgar said. This is bigger than him. Bigger than all of them. Mark me.” His mouth moves before his mind can process what’s happening, his teeth sinking deep into your flesh, breaking the skin. The feeling is like nothing you’ve ever felt. Electricity washes through your body, the most world altering orgasm of your life wracks through you, and you feel like your soul leaves you, connecting with Paul’s before returning to your earthly vessel. He pushes his hips flush against yours, ropes of his cum spilling inside you.
“Oh fucking shit.” Paul groans, pulling his mouth from your neck, gliding his tongue over the indents of his teeth. He leans back to look at you, eyes roaming your face. His knot swells inside of you and a look of pain crosses your features before turning into one of ecstasy. Loud moans leave your lips as your final orgasm of the night washes over you. Paul leans down, connecting his lips with yours, kissing you like it’s the last thing he will ever do. Though it was far from it.
“I hope you are not upset with me, Maud’Dib.” You take his face in your hands, running the top of your nose along his cheek.
“I don’t think I could ever be upset with you, my love. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t turn me on when you used The Voice on me…” he chuckles, resting his forehead against your own. “I am so happy I finally found you…”
“You have me now, until the day I take my last breath I will belong to you, Paul Atreides. Together, we will accomplish great things.”
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ghostgirl101 · 25 days
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I just wanna say that I am SO excited for the part 2 to your Paul Destiny fic. I have so many questions and Im excited to see if they get answered. Like if Paul is pledging his love to the reader then is the romance plot with Chani still relevant? Is the reader still the princess here? Very interesting
Imagine if Paul Atreides claimed you as his destiny: PART Ⅱ of Ⅱ
|| Word Count: 1.7K || Fluff ||
A/N: Honestly, I didn't think this would blow up so much- 1k+ likes??! Thank you all, it's sick 🙃 in answer to your questions, I didn't really specify if the reader (you) are part of a Great House or the Emperor's daughter, or maybe someone else, that's kind of up to your imagination. And yeah, sorry Chani fans, I kind of kicked her to the curb lmao; This is all about you, and so enjoy the second and final part of this destiny trope before I work on some relationship headcanons for Paul and Feyd-Rautha... Requests are open for Dune 2, so don't be shy 📩
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You can't escape fate.
It's as real as the Spice that threads through the grains of sand blanketing Arrakis in heavy, warm golden waves. It twists and turns in the air, in the tides of change, something beyond understanding roping together reality and its lives to bond, whether in love or hate.
At least, with the newly ascended young Emperor, you know which side you're on. Since the day of his declaration and claiming of you as his Empress, you've never once left his sight, unknowingly or not. The boy is almost ridiculously close and observant, as if testing the depths of the events unfolding around him, testing to see whether you'll try to run from them, from him. But you can't run from fate, either.
"You aren't resting."
Paul's soft, low voice slices through the silence of the dusk, the only words you hear before you feel his warm, firm arms slipping under your arms and around your middle, pulling you into his front in a smooth, protective motion. His chocolate brown locks tickle your neck and cheek as he gazes up at you from your shoulder; wandering, curious eyes study yours knowingly, his natural hues tainted blue with the Spice.
"What troubles you?"
You hesitate in your response, unsure of the right thing to say. There's no point in lying, not to him, to a boy who could easily use the power of his Voice to make you tell him everything and anything with just a few words. He's done it to the Bene Gesserit, to those who speak out of turn and challenge him cluelessly, but never to you. And something tells you that he never will.
"I'm sorry," is how you answer instead, in a small whisper, trying to read his expression before his reaction.
But all Paul does is give you one of his soft, amused smirks, a brow raising slightly, unconvinced.
"Don't apologise to anyone for anything," he murmurs, his fingers drifting to lock with yours, his hand hot and strong in yours. "We are to be wed, you and I, soon. So what troubles you?"
"It's not you," you tell him as earnestly as you can, his eyes capturing yours and holding them as you blink up at him. "I'm just... nervous."
"Nervous?" Paul repeats gently, his hands squeezing yours for a moment, his face an inch away from yours. "What have you to be nervous about?" He grins slightly, not attempting to hide his teasing amusement. "A wedding?"
You can't help but smile at his tone, savouring the unguarded moments of the new, young Emperor, his boyish traits lingering beneath the newfound power and promises passed down to him.
You were nervous, because you weren't so familiar with destiny and its quirks, and yet, Paul Atreides seemed to be its master. Nervous, because although there was a strange pull between you and him, a deeper part of you somehow knowing him, at an instinctive ease with him, you had never met him before these past few days, and now, you were going to be joined together for time indefinite by marriage. Nervous, because he didn't just want you to rule with him, but alongside him, as a partner, a second part of him. His second half who's with him in soul, not just spirit, physically, not just mentally. And he's relishing in it.
"I've never had one before," you shake your head with a light smile, "I don't know what to expect. Or what's expected of me."
Paul hums to himself at your reply, pausing for a while as he thinks over his words.
"It isn't just a wedding," he tells you quietly, "it's so much more. This... this a beginning. A new dawn."
"Beginning?" You echo in bemusement, looking up at him in wonder. "Of what?"
"Of a new era," Paul says thoughtfully, his hands moving from yours to run over and down your sides, tracing over your figure absentmindedly, a gesture that makes you hold your breath for a beat as you watch him, "the first of many. You are more than a mere future. You're the future. My future. And the future of my people."
The sincerity and conviction in his voice makes you stare back at him in slight awe, taken by his certainty of what he's seen in the deepest stretches of his mind, the flickering images of you, adorned in all your natural beauty and grace that he could find nothing short of perfect. You were a fantasy and a hope materialised. Someone he'd wished and dreamed for so much, that you came true, just as you should have.
"Anything that happens to you," Paul continues, looking you straight in the eye as he speaks, "happens to me. You have always been mine, and I was yours before then. Absolutely and completely."
And his words make a home in your head, everything he says so poetic and beautifully surreal, but so honest and unwaveringly confident. He didn't need to practise what he said before he whispered the sweet words in your ear, in a voice only you could catch, in the long, warm nights on Arrakis. There was no need for practice. He had been made for this, and he wouldn't have it any other way.
You let yourself relax slightly in his grips, giving him an earnest smile. "That sounds nice."
Paul smiles back at you, a bright, sweet smile that makes him seem so soft and normal, almost forgetting for a moment of his utter strength and glory over the planets, his dangerous darkness that he occasionally allowed to rule over his actions at the tensest of times, until those who stood up against him retreated in bewilderment and fascination and fear.
"It does," he agrees, his gaze dropping to look out at the dunes beyond you, "you can't imagine..."
You couldn't. But every part of you wanted to. And those parts won.
"Won't you tell me?"
Paul's attention shifts back to you after you speak, before you can stop yourself.
"Would it be kind to tell you?" He asks aloud, speaking half to himself as his eyes go to search yours again, studying every inch of you, almost unsettlingly intently.
"Do you dream?" Paul questions you softly, and you dither before shaking your head.
"Not like you do," you answer steadily.
"Like I do. Seeing your face amidst the streaks of sunbeams and every kind of ethereal power that could create wonders, planets, worlds. Waking up, and you're not here, though it felt so real," he goes on, his voice laced with longing, as if it pained him to remember the feeling. "Realer than I've ever felt anything before. Every sense in me was awakened, because with destiny, I saw hope. And I did not know that hope could be so.... beautifully... angelic."
Paul draws closer and closer with each word, pulled by invisible strings to rest his forehead against yours, closing his eyes for a long moment to breathe, breathe you in. The sight of it is almost dizzyingly hypnotic, staring at the little scattered freckles over his fair, lightly tanned skin, cheeks flushed golden. He moves his face to rub his cheek against yours, seeking out affection in an irresistible rare, vulnerable move. Your hand reaches up to brush your fingers against it, and he takes it in his immediately, pressing his lips against your fingertips as he speaks.
"I need you," Paul insists, his voice firm and pressing again as he stares at you with a spark of desperation. "I need only you. More than you can comprehend. By my side, always, where you belong."
"I'm right here," you reply a little giddily, looking away from his eyes slightly bashfully from the intensity and unbridled longing of his gaze. "I suppose I'm just not used to this."
"To what?" Paul questions, his fingers tilting your chin up softly to force your eyes back up to his, his face a little closer than before. "To being an Empress?"
Before you can respond, he's pushed himself closer over you, his warm, damp lips sliding and pressing against yours and parting to encourage you to deepen his affections. It sends hot shockwaves rushing straight through your blood, as Paul crouches over you, all patience and purpose forgotten in the moment where it's just the two of you in the calm, lingering desert night.
You fit together perfectly, too perfectly for his words to be untrue, and his head tilts keenly where your fingers skim his neck, his lips parting from yours as they tangle in his hair with a short gasp. He loses none of his confidence and persistence, his azure blue eyes a shade darker as he watches you with an open trace of adoration.
"A queen?"
"Paul," you start shakily, as he smirks at you fondly, his head ducking to trace his tongue briefly up the skin of your neck, with a faint chuckle.
"To being desired?"
You glare at him weakly, hanging onto his hands tight to find some sense of grounding. "You're just playing with me."
"I intend to do so much more than that," Paul grins at you, kissing your cheek before burying his face against your shoulder. "And so should you. Test the depths of our connection. Push it to its limits. Push me. Please."
You find yourself speechless again at his way with words, simple and truthful, but full of passion and unthought romance, a sensation he's been craving since the first shadows of your being in his hazy dreams and visions.
"Give into your destiny, sweet girl," he croons to you in a whisper, his lips brushing against yours and pressing down against your skin needily, hungrily. It takes almost inhumane strength not to crumble and shiver under his touch and desire radiating off him and his dark glare, the wanting over years of dreams and prophecies building up to its peak. "Give into me."
"I think I will," you whisper back in awe and giddiness, your arms having to hold tightly around his neck to stay upright. "I think I want to."
"That's good," he praises you with a soft smile, as his voice lowers. "And besides," Paul mutters in your ear, nuzzling against your cheek breathlessly, with that subtle, teasing look in his eyes, "I plan on taking you as mine well before the wedding."
══════════════⊹⊱≼ fin ≽⊰⊹══════════════
Taglist (lmk if you want to be added to this for my future Dune fanfics): @minaxcarter @milaeth @ennycutie @weird0o0 @aoi-targaryen @jindongdongie
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ghostfacd · 4 months
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SHE WAS LIKE A SHOT OF EPRESSO
pairing. tom blyth x actress!fem!reader (mentions of other actors x fem!reader platonically)
summary. in which you are the epitome of sunshine and radiance within your co stars OR all the times your co stars have talked interviewers’ ears off about you
installment of this au | read for context!
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Time 1: Tom Blyth
“How’s Y/N as a cast mate?”
That question shouldn’t make Tom Blyth smile that wide — but he does — because he’s so utterly and unconditionally inlove with you.
“Oh gosh, I wouldn’t even know where to start,” Tom begins. “As her boyfriend, I think I’m being pretty biased when I say this, but Y/N Avocot as a cast mate has honestly been the best experience of my life. There has not been a day where she doesn’t make me laugh so hard that my ribs start hurting, and there hasn’t been a day where she hasn’t made me smile.” He pauses for a moment, pondering the next words to say.
“Y/N’s just that type of person, you know? She’s like the warm sunlight that engulfs you every morning you open your curtains, she’s like that newly brewed coffee that helps hydrate and bring you back to life. She’s everything.” And he says this in such a loving manner that the interviewer practically awes, the cameraman zooming the camera to show Tom’s dilated pupil.
“Your pupils are dilated!” The interviewer mentions, laughing as she points towards his eyes.
“Oxytocin is a warm hormone that’s released when you talk about someone you love,” Tom shrugs. “All my friends say my pupils dilate when I’m near Y/N, that’s just the effect she has on people.”
“Well there it is folks! Tom Blyth is truly inlove with Y/N Avocot!”
Time 2: Sean Kaufman and Lola Tung
It was an interview discussing the new season of The Summer I Turned Pretty, and it consisted of Sean and Lola who’s schedules were the only ones that were open that day.
“Guys! We’re so happy to have you today,” the interviewer starts.
“Why thank you,” Lola smiles brightly into the camera, smoothing out her dress.
“So obviously, this season is very important to the plot, it contains so much new exciting storylines including Sean’s character, Steven Conklin, and Y/N’s character, Ella!”
“Yes,” Sean laughs, his eyes crinkling. “It was very fun filming the scenes with Y/N, she’s like that little rush of happiness that you just wanna keep inside a jar.”
“Actually!” Lola speaks up, crossing one leg over the other as she leans forward to the interviewer. “Now that Sean’s mentioning it, Y/N really is a rush of happiness. God, everyday on set, I always think ‘I’m gonna probably have to say my lines over a thousand times and be tired by the time I’m done’ but Y/N comes right in, and she’s always making funny faces behind the director which just fills my heart with joy and it’s those little moments that make acting really worth it you know? Like even though I’m dying re filming the same scene over and over again — I know that Y/N’s always going to cheer me up by the end of it.”
“Wow,” the interviewer laughs. “I haven’t even asked you guys about Y/N yet but she seems to be very loved by the crew.”
“Oh yeah,” Sean nods. “Everyone filming loves her. I mean, how could you not?”
And the interviewer thinks the same question, because after interviewing Tom Blyth, she really believes that you really cannot not love Y/N Avocot.
Time 3: Timothee Chalamet
“Timo!” The interviewer greets Timothee excitedly, moving the chair so he could sit.
“Jacob! My favorite interviewer,” and maybe Timothee’s lying, because he’s seen about a million interviewers by now, but it makes Jacob smile, not so much hating his job anymore.
“Your new movie, Miracles in Love, can you tell me more about that?”
“Yes,” Timothee takes a deep breath. “It’s about a boy and girl in their early twenties figuring out what they wanna be in life. My character, Louie Marcel, falls inlove with my co star — Y/N’s character — Maeve Jones after they bump into each other at the bar and talk about how depressing their lives are. It’s pretty funny, y’know. How easy it was to film with Y/N, in fact, it came all naturally.” Timothee pauses, a small smile playing on his lips.
“When you say naturally, what exactly do you mean by that?”
“Oh you know Jacob,” Timothee grins. “It’s easy to fall inlove with Y/N Avocot. She’s a remarkable actress, and everything that I filmed with her feels so real that it feels like I’m really Louie and I’m really falling inlove with a girl named Maeve at the local bar near my university.”
“Oh wow,” Jacob, the interviewer, can’t help but gush at Timothee’s endearing statement. “You must be very good friends.”
“Us? Of course!” He laughs as if it was one of the funniest statements on earth. “I’m really good friends with her boyfriend too, Tom. They’re honestly the sweetest couple, don’t know if I’m inlove with him or her. Maybe both,” he jokes.
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bellyapologist oh to be yn avocot and be so loved by her cast mates that they’re smiling each time they talk about her
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user1 literally like how do you not cry when you’re being called a literal rush of happiness
user2 lola and sean being so excited to talk about her even though the interviewer didn’t start the interview yet 😭
user3 shows that yn is rly a good person
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timotheesgf YN AVOCOT LET ME BE YOU PLEASEEEE LOOK AT HOW TIMOTHEE TALKS ABT HER GOD LIFE IS NOT FAIR
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user4 “it’s easy to fall inlove with yn avocot” FUCKKKKK
user5 “everything I filmed with her feels so real” oh tom and kylie are punching the air rn
user9 she must’ve saved a planet in her past life cause..
user10 same energy as “she was like a shot of espresso” 😭😭😭😔😔😔
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cassie48 · 1 month
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∙ 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘤𝘺 ∙
(Eventual)Dark!Paul Atreides x fem pregnant reader
• Pt 1 •
࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎
You and Paul grew up together on Caladan. You were born on the same day, on the same hour. Paul’s mother lady Jessica had always seen you as a daughter and for some unknown reason, insisted that you and her son always stay together.
When you and Paul grew to become teenagers, feelings became involved, and a powerful love blossomed. When the two of you heard you had to leave for Arrakis, you were both petrified. But you knew everything would be ok, as long as you stayed together.
When the two of you arrived to the planet, the local fremen called Paul the “Lisan al-Gaib” and you the “malaka”. Neither of you knew what that meant. So, walking hand in hand, you glanced at each other, both your faces full of confusion and curiosity.
When you were told that the names meant 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 and 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘦𝘯, both of you were confused.
The night before the imperial Sardaukar troops invaded Arrakis, you found out you were pregnant. It was a complete shock and you and Paul were barely 20. You told Paul as soon as you found out. He comforted you, saying the baby was a blessing, and you two would get through it together.
When the troops came in, all hell broke lose. Thankfully you made it out with Paul, and met lady Jessica before running for the hills. Your hand went to your belly, complete fear consuming you. You three managed to get a plane and fly out.
After surviving a storm, and a long, dangerous journey, the three of you ended up in Fremen territory. You met Chani, who was sceptical of your boyfriend, but seemed to like you.
One man was not happy with your arrival and even challenged Jessica. Paul fought for her, killing the man, after a long brutal fight.
As soon as he had done it, he walked straight up to you, he looked full of power and confidence.
“It’s ok my love” he had told you as he hugged you close to him, his hand eventually resting on you belly. Jessica had told you she was pregnant as well, which eased up your nerves, knowing you two would get through it together.
After a good few weeks with the Fremen, Paul learned the ways of the Fremen being taught by stilgar , you tried to do what you could , which was little as you were now coming up to almost 4 months pregnant.
It all changed when Paul rode his first sand worm, you stood with the Fremen watching along with them as you saw Paul do nearly the impossible, smiling at him
All the Fremen beside you stared yelling out 𝗟𝗶𝘀𝗮𝗻 𝗮𝗹-𝗚𝗮𝗶𝗯, some walking up to you before kneeling, and taking your hand yelling out 𝗠𝗮𝗹𝗮𝗸𝗮, praising you
You were confused and scared, and just wanted your boyfriend to hold you. More and more people came up to you grabbing your hand, until suddenly you began to cry. You don’t really know why, but your emotions had been all over the place with your pregnancy.
As soon as Stilgar saw you crying he yelled out at the Fremen, asking them 𝘋𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘶𝘱𝘴𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘢𝘩? 𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘤𝘳𝘺!
Immediately they stopped, backing away with whispered apologies to you. When you told Paul later he was outraged.
“Do they think they can grab you like that? You are pregnant they could have hurt you or the baby!” He yelled out, pure rage in his voice.
“It’s ok Paul real-“ you started
“No. It’s not, you were crying, Chani told me. This has to stop” is all he said before pulling you into a hug, you resting your head on his shoulder, his head resting on your own.
Jessica had told you she thinks your baby’s is a boy, you believe her, as she is now the reverend mother. She had really changed, it scared you.
The Fremen and Paul continued fighting against the Sardauker troops, most were very successful. Sadly they blew up the temple, where many had been inside and where they prayed and laid their loved ones to rest.
Paul had been called down to speak with the leaders in the south of Arrakis, he took Stilgars place as he had been injured from the attack.
When you two arrived, Paul told you to go to sleep for a while, you were now seven months pregnant and your body was becoming tired more often.
After about two hours Jessica came up, yelling for you, saying Paul was in trouble. You jumped out of bed and waddled down to him as fast as you possibly could.
She told you he had drank worm blood, to gain an understanding of the prophecy and his future. She told you only your years would bring him back to life. Of course, you had already been crying, so it wasn’t so hard.
Paul gasped and sat up, coming back to reality, he glared seeing all the people surrounding them. He turned to look at you, smiling as he did, cupping your cheeks. You leant into his touch, throwing yourself into his embrace, letting many tear’s escape.
Stilgar yelled out “As it was written!” In pure shock.
“Paul why’d you do it!” You yelled, while crying into his shoulder.
“It’s ok. I understand now. This baby, it’s a miracle, 𝗛𝗲 shall rule after me” he said smiling while looking at you adoringly.
“What? I-I don’t understand! Rule?” You said still crying from the events.
“Trust me. You are the Malaka. You, are the most important woman on the planet right now. This pregnancy, it’s in the prophecy, 𝗬𝗼𝘂 were in the prophecy my love” he said properly sitting up.
“W-What?” You whispered still confused.
“Don’t worry your pretty little head about any of this, you trust me don’t you” He said leaning in closer to you.
You nodded, leaning your body into his, your crying and worrying making you tired.
“Good.” Is all he said leaning into you and kissing you passionately, forgetting you two had a whole audience.
“Oh em well everybody give Lisan al-Gaib and the Malaka privacy” stilgar ordered as the Fremen left yelling out messiah words in their language.
You and Paul continued making out for around five minutes before he noticed how tired you were.
“Come my love” he said as he picked you up, holding you tightly in his arms. You leaned your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes, feeling completely safe in his embrace.
“No one will harm you, my love” he whispered as you drifted off to sleep.
࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎
There will be a pt2!!
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andy-15-07 · 1 month
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can you do a fic with Paul Atreides, where Y/n is a bene gesserit and they find he is the One
Our love is powerful
masterlist ! pairing: Paul Atreides x reader
Dune Masterlist
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In the mystical world of Arrakis, where sand dunes whispered ancient secrets, Paul Atreides and you, a Bene Gesserit, found yourselves entwined in a destiny written in the sands of time. The air in the Sietch was charged with anticipation as the Bene Gesserit sisterhood, with their millennia-old knowledge, discerned a truth that transcended the ordinary.
As you and Paul stood in the sacred chambers of the Bene Gesserit, the reverence in the air hinted at the gravity of the moment. The sisterhood, with their eyes that held the wisdom of countless generations, regarded Paul with a mix of expectation and acknowledgment.
"Y/N," one of the elder Bene Gesserit addressed you, "the threads of fate have woven a tapestry that binds your path with that of Paul Atreides. He is the One—the Kwisatz Haderach."
The realization hung in the air, a moment that echoed through the corridors of time. Paul, with his piercing blue eyes and a destiny that weighed heavily on his shoulders, looked at you with a mix of curiosity and acceptance.
"What does this mean?" Paul inquired, the weight of the prophecy settling on his young shoulders.
The elder Bene Gesserit stepped forward, her voice a melodic resonance that carried the echoes of ancient wisdom. "The Kwisatz Haderach—the One who can bridge space and time, unlocking the secrets of the universe. He who possesses both male and female ancestral memories, breaking the limitations that have bound humanity."
You, a Bene Gesserit bound by duty and destiny, met Paul's gaze with a depth of understanding. "Paul, you are the culmination of a plan set in motion by the Bene Gesserit sisterhood. The threads of our bloodlines converge in you."
The gravity of the revelation seemed to settle in the room. Paul, born into a lineage of political intrigue and ancient prophecy, found himself at the crossroads of destiny.
As you and Paul retreated from the sacred chambers, the Sietch buzzed with a mix of anticipation and uncertainty. The sands of Arrakis seemed to echo the whispers of the prophecy that had been unveiled.
"Y/N," Paul began, his voice a quiet contemplation, "what does it mean for us? For our relationship?"
You turned to him, your eyes reflecting the weight of the truth. "Paul, our connection goes beyond the prophecy. The Bene Gesserit may have seen the threads of fate, but our love is a force that transcends destiny. Together, we navigate the path that unfolds before us."
The days that followed were filled with the intensity of preparation, as Paul embraced the training and revelations that came with being the Kwisatz Haderach. The Bene Gesserit sisterhood, with their watchful eyes, guided him through the intricacies of their ancient knowledge.
Amidst the trials and tribulations, your connection with Paul deepened. As he grappled with the weight of his destiny, your presence became a source of solace and understanding. Late nights were spent beneath the stars, the two of you seeking refuge in each other's arms.
One evening, as the desert winds whispered tales of destiny, Paul looked at you with a mix of vulnerability and determination. "Y/N, I may be the Kwisatz Haderach, but my heart belongs to you. Our love will be the anchor as I navigate the complexities of this path."
You smiled, a reassurance that transcended words. "Paul, no prophecy can diminish the love we share. The threads of fate may guide your journey, but our connection is a beacon that lights the way."
As Paul embraced his destiny, the sands of Arrakis witnessed a love story that defied the limitations of prophecy. Together, you and Paul Atreides forged a path that merged ancient wisdom with the unwavering power of love—a journey that echoed through the sands of time, leaving an indelible mark on the destiny of Arrakis.
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lex-the-flex · 21 days
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Drinking the Water of Life
Paul Atreides x reader
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He didn't want this. He never wanted this to happen. So why now? And why did it have to you?
From the moment Paul Atreides claimed his Fremen name, he prayed this wouldn't have to happen. But it did. While his mind was clear and open, yours remained foggy and closed off. If it was up to him, he would've kept you there, with your limited visions of the future.
But he loved you with all his heart.
And he couldn't see you suffer any longer without him. Paul chose you to rule at his side, after all.
Returning to your place in the shared communal room, Paul offers you a small smile before returning to his meal.
"How are you? I haven't seen you all day." He whispered so only you could hear.
"I'm alright. The water extractors are holding up. You should've seen all the packs I had to carry. Stilgar was impressed that I could carry thirty pounds for three straight miles." You explain.
Finally being able to relax at Paul's side, you notice how his blue within blue eyes look at you. While he's proud of you, something else lingers behind his orbs.
"Paul, what is it?" You ask.
Setting down his bowl, he takes your hands in his with a gentle grasp. Calmly stroking his fingers over your knuckles, he leans closer, his lips inches from your ear.
"I need you to travel South with me. Just the two of us, on a private mission before the others make the journey. I need you by my side, Y/N." He explains.
Calmly nodding your head, you instantly knew what he meant: you had to drink the Water of Life. The others knew it too, spreading rumors that stung like needles into your back. How you weren't worthy of loving Paul, the Muad'dib. Even the other Fremen began to question your loyalty.
As you were an outsider like Paul and his mother, Jessica, you remained faithful to House Atreides as it was one of the final commands given to you by Duke Leto himself. But now you had to truly prove yourself, you had to show everyone why Paul chose you above any other Fremen girl in your sietch.
"Okay, Paul. I will follow your hand until the very end. I will follow Muad'dib, my Usul, with an open heart." You declare as he pulls you in for a loving embrace.
*****
Guiding you further into the Southern temple, Paul never lets go of your hand. The beautiful sanctuary pulls you in with its calming circular architecture and stillness. Leading you to the main chamber, Paul is welcomed by another Fremen fundamentalist showing him the utmost respect.
Discovering a pool of water, you wander over to it before noticing the presence of a small sandworm swimming in the cloudy liquid. Scrunching your brows at the rapidly moving creature, Paul places his hand on your shoulder.
"It's time, Y/N."
Joining Paul and the Fremen member, she holds a jar containing a bright blue liquid that appears even sharper than the blue within blue eyes themselves. Feeling your breath catch in the back of your throat, you begin to panic, even taking a step away from Paul.
Placing a hand over your chest, your bare fingertips try to find solace in the sand covered stillsuit, and your own heartbeat echoes against your eardrums.
"It's alright. It's alright, Y/N. I'm here." Paul advises, leaning his forehead against yours.
Holding the nape of your neck in his hands, his dark curls tickle the edge of your face.
"I... I don't know if I can do this, Paul. I can't fail you." You say as your lip begins to quiver.
"You can. I believe in you. House Atreides believes you. You can do this, Y/N, just as your Usul before you." Paul replies, stroking your cheek.
Calming your breathing, you quietly nod before Paul, coming to your decision.
Laying down in between the stone pools, the Fremen offers you the glass bottle, lowering the top of the spout into your open mouth. Drinking the cold liquid, you swallow the water, and it enters your system. Taking your hand in his, Paul rubs your knuckles whilst your body goes numb.
Convulsing on the stone, every inch of your body writhes in pain, from the temples on your head, to your very reproductive system. A terrifying scream releases from your damp lips as the visions of the future, past, and present dance along the thin skin of your eyelids. Then, as soon as they appear, the prophecies of the future disappear within seconds.
You were cold, numb, in between the land of the living and the dead.
Offering the bottle to Paul, tears begin to fall on his face, and he mixes the salty drops with the freshwater.
Pressing the water to your lips, Paul bends down and kisses you lips, allowing you to return to him once more.
Feeling his lips leave your own, your eyes open, and you are awake. Your mind was open and Paul took you into his lap, studying your new set of eyes with all the love he could give you.
taglist ~
@dreamliners
@visionsofsweettea
@xplore-the-unknwn
@kaleidoscope1967eyes
@shions-new-blog-of-stuff
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Title of Your Sex Tape
Chapter Three: Lie Still, Close Your Eyes
AO3 one two three four five six seven eight
All my work is 18+.
A/N: realized I forgot to post this here. Oops. Here ya go
Take it home, take it off, ‘cause I can’t take anymore; it’s your touch, it’s your taste, it’s your dress on the floor. Take it home, take it off, ‘cause I’ve been waiting all night for you and this is what I’m gonna do. Ice, ice, mealy your heart; baby girl, let down your guard. Rush, rush, for that touch; just one taste, can’t get enough.- The White Tie Affair, Take It Home
Tim texted her all weekend. At first, she wondered why he was texting her. She figured maybe he was contacting her about a work thing, though she had no clue what that might be.
As it turned out, it was not at all a work thing. He never mentioned work once. He really had wanted to know more about her schooling. He told her about his family, that his father was French, like from France levels of French, that he’d spent summers there with his grandparents as a kid. His sister was an aspiring actress, and he wanted to be one, too, but had some difficulty getting into more than just commercials. She wondered if he was any good.
By the time Tuesday rolled around, Lea knew tons about him. She knew his middle name (Hal) and she knew his birthday (December 27th). She even knew where he’d gone to high school.
He’d opened up to her so quickly, so easily, as if the story of his life was written on the pages of a book sitting in front of her, just waiting to be read. She found herself confiding in him, too; she told him about her mother and sisters, that her father had abused her mother and was no longer around. At one point, he’d ask her outright if that was why she’d never kissed anyone before, and she confirmed his guess despite her embarrassment.
Still, despite knowing him quite well by the time they next saw one another, she was terribly nervous about seeing Tim again.
When he came to pick her up and she slid into the passenger side of his car, he was beaming at her, looking her up and down.
“Hi!” he exclaimed happily. “You look adorable.”
Lea blinked up at him. “Oh, um.” She gulped anxiously. “Thanks.”
He drove off, prattling away about something or other. When they arrived, he opened the car door for her and offered her his hand. She took it, stepping out onto the pavement.
Tim was grinning down at her like she the mere sight of her was the best thing he’d seen in his entire life, and he didn’t let go of her hand as they walked through the doors.
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He’d shot for so long that it was early one evening several weeks later by the time he was driving her home, and he walked her to her apartment building, the bustling New Yorkers swerving around them.
Lea turned back to face him, her cheeks pink from the memory of the orgasm he’d given her earlier that day as they’d kissed hungrily. “Well,” she said awkwardly, “thanks for the ride home. I appreciate it.”
“Not a problem,” he told her with a smile, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. She gave him a little wave and turned towards the door of her building to go inside, but he stopped her. “Lea?”
Turning back towards him, unsure of what the tone in his voice meant— if it meant anything at all, for that matter. “Yeah?”
He shifted from one foot to the other, like he was anxious.
What on earth could a man like that have to be anxious about?
“Would you like to have dinner with me sometime?” The words came out rushed, flowing from his lips like a waterfall of syllables, and it took her a few seconds to decipher them.
Once she had, however, her eyes widened until she rather resembled an owl. “W— what?” Lea squeaked.
Tim brushed his hair from his eyes, shooting her a small smile. “Would you like to have dinner with me?” he repeated, a bit slower this time.
“I…” She couldn’t seem to formulate words. Or maybe they just refused to come out. She wasn’t sure. Either way, it took a few loud thuds of her heart before she was able to force any sound from vocal chords. “Wouldn’t, uh. Wouldn’t that be like… a conflict of interest or something?”
He laughed quietly, taking a step closer. “No, of course not. Just me thanking a beautiful girl for helping me do my job.” After a moment of him staring down at her, he added, “I honestly don’t know how I ever managed without you.”
She swallowed. “Glad I’m able to help, then.”
She considered his request as he looked down at her expectantly. Would she get in trouble? She knew she couldn’t, like… date him or anything, of course not. He had sex with other women, and regardless of the reason he was doing it, how was she supposed to deal with something like that? But he’d said it was just to thank her for helping him and she did enjoy his company.
What could be the harm?
“Yeah, okay,” she finally conceded. “If you’re sure it’s okay.”
“Positive.” He seemed so damn happy about her agreeing that she honestly didn’t know how to react. He was… disarmingly attractive.
It was distracting.
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He took her out the following night after she got out of class.
She did her makeup and dressed in a fairly nice dress, but not so nice she thought she might be seen as trying too hard.
Okay, so maybe she liked him a little bit. Big deal. It’s not like anything would ever come of it, anyway. He’d never made a move on her outside of work, and that was most definitely for the best on account of the whole… pornstar thing.
He was sweet and courteous and, as she understood it, a perfect gentleman.
On Thursday, Lea found herself being tugged by the hand into his dressing room, and she was immediately pinned against the door with his lips on hers and his hands squeezing her hips.
She moaned into his mouth, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him back. Tim hiked up the skirt of her dress and slotted his knee between her legs, rubbing against her panties insistently.
She was panting by the time he moved on to her neck, kissing and sucking the sensitive skin there as she arched into him. “Touch me,” she begged.
“Fuck.” The word was a groan against her throat, his teeth grazing her flesh, and he reached up with one hand to squeeze her breast. “So big,” he murmured. “What I wouldn’t give to see them. Suck on them.”
She leaned further into his touch, and he squeezed a bit harder. “You want to see…?”
“I’ve never wanted to see a woman naked so badly in my life,” he informed her bluntly, pulling back from her slightly.
Lea gulped.
Okay, so looking up at him now, she realized two things. First, that her feelings towards him were most definitely of the romantic sort. Second, she trusted him enough to see her naked. This was odd, as they were friends and nothing more—outside of work, of course—, but she actually kind of wanted him to, which was a bizarre realization in and of itself.
“I can… I can show you,” she told him hesitantly. His eyes widened, and she continued. “If… if you’d like to see, I can show you.”
“You don’t have to,” he assured her hurriedly.
“I know,” she said with a small, hesitant smile. “I don’t mind. I trust you.”
He smirked at her, then took her by the hand and walked backwards towards the couch before plopping down on it.
She was wearing a casual, flowy green dress that ended just above her knees, and he gripped the edge of the material lightly, watching her flushed face intently. “Why don’t you strip for me?”
“W— what?” she squeaked.
Tim’s hand traveled up beneath her dress, just past the hem. Not too high, but just enough to make her core clench. “Stra-rip,” he enunciated slowly.
She watched the way his mouth moved with each syllable; he was mesmerizing. Then, slowly, ever since slowly, she lifted her dress up over her head and dropped it next to him on the couch. She was wearing bright pink panties—with her hair being red, she never got to wear pink where people could see it, and she quite liked pink—, and her bra was a soft cream color with a little bow in the middle.
Bras in Lea’s size were always rather uninspired.
“God,” Tim groaned, yanking his shirt off. “You’re so fucking sexy.”
“Thanks,” she said awkwardly, fidgeting with a curl that had fallen loose from behind her ear. He was pulling his pants off, his boxers following shortly after, and Lea flushed when she saw how hard he was.
He pumped himself with one hand and trailed a hand up her bare thigh with another. “Do you still want me to see you? Are you okay with that?”
Nodding, she nibbled on her lip before reaching behind her back and unclasping her bra. She slid the straps from her shoulders and, without looking at him, let the garment fall to the floor. She watched it do so and then continued to stare at it as she bent over to pull her panties down.
When she stood back up, he stared at her for a moment before reaching out to touch her again, his hands lightly brushing against her outer thighs, then sliding up to her waist. When he spoke, his voice was hoarse, rough. “Can I…”
Lea nodded jerkily, finding herself unable to speak just then.
His hands—so large, so warm, so soft—moved to cup her breasts gently, his thumbs swiping over her pebbling nipples, and she inhaled sharply.
“You like that?” Tim asked quietly, the words hesitant, almost. When she nodded wordlessly, he squeezed a bit harder. “You’re so beautiful. God, your tits… they’re unlike anything I’ve ever seen.”
She laughed shakily. “I seriously doubt that, given your choice in career.”
He shook his head, squeezing again and pinching each nipple between his thumb and forefinger, making her whimper. “No,” he breathed. “No one else’s have ever been attached to you, Lea.”
She gasped, arching into his touch.
“Fuck,” he groaned. “Can I suck on them? Please? I want them in my mouth.”
“Y— yeah,” she agreed.
He grabbed her by the hips and yanked her closer, latching onto one of her breasts immediately and beginning to suckle.
It felt incredible. She hadn’t been expecting it to feel quite so good, actually. Lea threw her head back, clutching his hair with a low moan. He growled against her skin, taking her nipple gently between his teeth. She gasped, pressing his face further into her breast. He reached around to grip her ass with both hands, squeezing it eagerly.
“So fuckin’ hot,” he muttered as he switched to the other breast.
“Tim,” she whimpered, “that feels—“
“You like it?”
She nodded shakily, her chest heaving.
Suddenly, he pulled back from her, gripping her arms and looking into her eyes intently. “Lea,” he began firmly. She blinked down at him in response, in somewhat of a daze. “Can I… can I eat you out?”
Her mouth fell open. “You… you wanna do that?” She swallowed anxiously.
Tim nodded vigorously. “I really, really want to. We don’t have to, of course, but…” He glanced down at the apex of her thighs. Most of what his eyes were searching for was concealed, she knew, but he could see some of her. When he spoke again, his voice was a little choked-sounding. “But god do I want to.”
She swallowed again—or tried to, anyway; her throat was too dry for her to manage it—before nodding. “Okay. If… if you want to.”
“Don’t feel like you have to,” he insisted firmly, taking her hands in his and squeezing them. “You can say no or tell me to stop or slow down, anything you want. Whatever you’re comfortable with is okay.”
“No, I…” Lea let out a slow, shaky exhale. “I trust you,” she said again. “And… I want you to.”
He groaned, pulling her down so she’d replaced his spot on the couch, and then he spread her legs and knelt between them.
Tim kissed her inner thigh softly, his gaze hot on hers. “You’re sure you want this?”
“Yes,” she breathed.
He smirked. “Good.” With that, he nipped her thigh, chuckling softly at her little gasp of surprise before trailing more kisses closer and closer to where she really wanted him.
Was she shaking? She might’ve been shaking. One of his hands left her leg to reach up and squeeze her breast, rolling her nipple between his long, nimble fingers.
Lea whimpered, arching into his touch. He was so close to where she needed him. She was clenching repeatedly on her own emptiness, and she thought she’d die if he didn’t give her what she needed.
Then, his fingertips finally—finally—brushed against her wetness, and he hummed low in his throat with interest.
“Fuck,” Tim murmured, “you’re soaked. You really want this, huh?”
Too embarrassed to confirm this verbally, she clenched her eyes shut and nodded once.
“No, no,” he told her placatingly, moving the hand on her breast up to cup her cheek. “Don’t be embarrassed.” Lea squinted her eyes open hesitantly to find Tim smiling softly up at her, like he was trying to reassure her. “I like that I made you this wet. It’s sexy.”
She gulped. “Really?”
“Mhm.” He nipped her inner thigh again, and she chewed the inside of her lip.
“I’m gonna make you feel so good, Lea,” he promised.
The way Tim was looking at her was heated, but it was also a question— he was asking for a final stamp of approval from her before continuing. She nodded once, and that was all he needed.
The hand on her cheek migrated back to squeeze her breast and tweak her nipple, and he dove in. Lea yelped when she felt soft, gentle licks along her slit, just barely brushing over her clit. Still, his eyes watched her face closely, reading her expressions and paying attention to each reaction he elicited from her.
“Can I put my fingers inside you?” he breathed, the heat of his exhalation on her wet, flushed skin making her shudder.
“Yes.”
The first finger slid in easily, and he curled it within her before pulling it out again and thrusting two fingers back into her this time.
She gasped, lifting her pelvis to meet his touch. “Fuck, you’re…” He inhaled sharply. “You’re really tight.”
Should she thank him? Was it a compliment? What—
Tim nipped her inner thigh again, and she yelped. “Stop overthinking,” he chided gently, looking up at her with dark eyes. “Don’t think. Just feel.” She nodded back at him unblinkingly, and he grinned. “I’m gonna lick you now, okay?”
“Okay,” she breathed, focusing on the way he was moving his fingers inside her and not on what he was about to do and how self-conscious it made her.
With that, he brushed his tongue against her clit in a feather-light touch, and Lea jolted. It was strange— warm and wet and altogether foreign. She wasn’t entirely sure what she’d been expecting, but it wasn’t this.
He licked her again, just as light as before, but more slowly this time. He thrust his fingers in and out of her, curling them each time, never taking his eyes off her face, not even for a second. Swirling the tip of his tongue around her clit, he reached up with his free hand to squeeze her breast and tweak her nipple.
Lea whimpered, arching her back and throwing her right arm across her eyes. He licked a bit faster, and she moaned low in her throat, reaching down with her left hand to hold him against her without even really thinking about it. He chuckled softly, and the vibrations made her clench around his thrusting fingers.
“Feel good?” he wanted to know, rubbing her clit with his thumb. She nodded jerkily, her eyes clenched shut beneath her arm. “Good.”
With that, he resumed licking her, his tongue moving faster now, making her breath come in short, gasping pants. The hand she had in his hair clenched, and he must’ve known she was getting close.
Tim seemed to know her body better than she did, which made sense as he’d been the one to give her her first-ever orgasm just a few weeks ago, but she wasn’t able to think about that. As it happened, she wasn’t able to think about anything at all. Her mind had been filled with fog, and she couldn’t formulate a single thought.
He took her clit between his lips and sucked on it gently, curling his fingers inside her again, and she exploded with a gasp of his name.
Lea panted, her arms collapsing at her sides. The room was still spinning when he pulled his fingers out of her and sat up, grinning like he’d just won the lottery.
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and sat on the couch next to her.
“So,” Tim began, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her against him, “how’d you like it?”
She stared dazedly at the wall across from the couch. “That was…”
Words. Words were hard. How could she even describe that experience?
“…Amazing,” she finally decided.
“Good.”
Lea was about to open her mouth to say something—she wasn’t entirely sure what—, but there were several swift raps from the other side of the door that cut off her thought before it had entirely formed.
“We’re ready for you,” came the voice of a production assistant.
“‘Kay,” he called through the door.
Wait, she thought in a bit of a panic, I didn’t touch him, what if he’s not hard—
But then he stood, and she saw that he was, in fact, very hard.
“Here,” he told her quietly, handing her her clothes and waiting patiently as she dressed. “I’ll see you after, okay?”
Lea nodded, watching as he strolled from the room with that casual confidence she was quickly growing to adore, and tried to push down the jealousy brewing in her stomach at the knowledge of what he was about to go do.
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Tag list: Tag list: @meetmyothersouls @ellamaianderson @shika1200 @blackqueenstarseed1 @gatoenlaciudad @esmaada @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @softhecreator @timolaurence @timmymyluv @oddlyenoughiamweird @leecrunchybones @s-we-e-t-t-ea @almostg @vampire-reanimator
To be added, please ask 💗
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spideysbruh · 4 months
Text
Thank You GQ
a/n- the lil ~ means a passage of time
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liked by florencepugh, y/n and 892,339 others
tchalamet GQ.
view all 371,728 comments
tstan your shoots are always the best
GQ let's do it again some time mr. chalamet
y/n oh my
timmylaurie he's so cute omg
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liked by tchalamet and 170,383 others
y/n what's everyone asking for from santa?
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timmytimstan omg t liked
yourfriend what are you getting me for christmas 🤭
y/n literally no clue ❤️
tchalamet a vinyl record would be nice
y/n liked
y/n 🤔
timmytimstan omg t commented !
timmysgf who is she ??
tchalamet oh wow.
kylesballs not him simping for a random insta model publicly LMAOO
timotheeandall y/n is NOT an instagram model omggg 💀
@y/n tweeted: need. need so bad
@sinusandsocks replied- me too girl 💀💀
@lauriesarmpit replied- no way the first tweet I see of hers is ab timmy 😭😭💀💀
@tsgf replied- how do you know it's about him?
@ynsleftear replied- trust me, she's been like this for a while 💀💀 she stays shooting her shot!!
~
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liked by tchalamet, yourfriend, rachelzegler and 243,827
y/n honeymoon fades
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sabrinacarpenter caption. i love you.
y/n liked
ynstan BEAUTIFUL GIRL
tchalamet need.
y/n liked
chalametgirl BYEEEE LMAOOOOO
tchalamet oh my.
rachelzegler absolutely gorgeous. when are we hanging out 🥺🥺
y/n im free next week <3 let me dm you w my schedule LMAOO we need to have a sleepover again I got so much to tell you
rachelzegler omg this is happening ill see you next week love
~~~
tchalamet just posted a story!
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@y/n tweeted: the average person was never meant to have this much lore.
@realchalamet liked and retweeted
@ynsblanket replied- oh god what happened girl
@ynandtimschild replied- you're literally dating timothee chalamet it's okay 😩😩🙏🏼
@y/n replied- exactly!!! life is crazy.
@realchalamet liked
@timoatreides replied- wait what💀💀
@realchalamet tweeted: life IS crazy
@paulswhore replied- BROOOO !?!?!!!
@ynsgf replied- HELPP!?!?!!! at 2am is crazy
~~~
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liked by tchalamet, dylanminnette, haileesteinfeld and 1,937,727 others liked
y/n two years. you've dealt with every part of me and you're still here with me. I love you more than anything my silly boy. I'll always remember the GQ issue that finally gave me the courage to dm you 💀💀
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tchalamet ohhhh THATS why its framed in our place 🤔🤔
y/n but also cause im so proud of you 😍things can have two meanings 🫶
paulsdune TWO YEARS ?!?!!! it took yall forever to make it official huh
y/n you're telling me...
tchalamet thank god for GQ cause i was too scared to dm you myself 💀💀
y/n liked
lauriesyn NO WAYYYY HAPPY ANNIVERSARY YALLL
kyleshair literally my parents omg
timosbirthmark tbh it's good they waited a while to actually date, people be so quick to jump into relationships LMAOO
rachelzegler our double dates are some of my favorite memories
y/n same we gotta do it again
mariastory timothee and josh being friends omg
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liked by y/n, zendaya, madisonbeer and 3,827,727
tchalamet thank you once again GQ. i think i'm much more mature this time around. and thank you for getting me the love of my life with the 2020 issue, I am eternally grateful.
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y/n oh my 😍
tchalamet liked
laurieslaurence YOU ATEEEE the lil part about y/n and how much she's helped shape you 🥺🥺🫶🫶
atreideskyle i ❤️ my boyfriend
zendaya OKAYYYYY
willyswonka he seems like such a good boyfriend to y/n
florencepugh so proud of you!!!
charliestimo the comparison to the 2020 and this one 🥺🥺 he's already grown so much 😭💔💔
ayoedebiri 🫶🫶
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liked by y/n, dovecameron, addisonraee and 4,282,727
tchalamet my love deserves a post of its own. when we're apart i count down the minutes until we can be together again. you make me the best possible version of myself and i thank you for it. you are the most beautiful person inside and out, and I'm so lucky to get to not only know you, but love you as well. i love you happy two years my pretty girl.
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timosatreid "MY PRETTY GIRL" GOD WHEN 😭😭😭😭🥺🥺🥺
y/n you just had to outdo my caption huh.
tchalamet liked
addisonraee yall are too cute pls stop
sabsyn THE HAND PLACEMENT IN THE SECOND PIC WHY IS NO ONE TALKING ABOUT THE. HAND. PLACEMENT.
ynschals imagine how many pics they have of each other on their phones that we'll never see... 😖
yourfriend no other guy could make her as happy as you, timmy!
tchalamet and y/n liked
y/n idk if you know this but i love you
*
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riordanness · 3 months
Text
sweet nothing - [w.wonka]
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wordcount: 1.1K
warnings: willy freaking wonka’s curls
requested: no
Something about this laundry place was giving me the creeps, but I’m sure if it’s the scary man who’d brought us here, the overly cheery lady with the awful teeth, or the much-too-convenient cheap as chips room.
Willy seems to be completely trusting in these people, though, and I trust him with anything, so I decide to just take it as it comes, and keep my eyes open for anything else strange.
We’re lead upstairs by Bleacher, with Mrs Scrubbit following from behind. She chatters the whole way up, bombarding us with information about the place and our room and how much impact this laundry business has had on the town itself.
Bleacher pushes open a door, and lets us pass. I step inside after Willy, and glance quickly around the simplistic room. It’s pretty, very white, and has little daisies on the wallpaper.
“There you two are,” Mrs Scrubbit says happily. I wonder to myself if her name, or Bleacher’s for that matter, are actually their real names, or if they just made them up for the glamour of it all. They are pretty catchy names.
“Thank you, Mrs Scrubbit,” I say, and Willy chimes in after me.
“Thank you both.”
Mrs Scrubbit, flustered, grins at us both and waves her hand in the air vigorously. “There’s a bar of soap and a washing cloth on the sink, and fresh linens in the cupboard over there.”
I give her a smile, and my worries from earlier are almost forgotten. This place truly is a miracle.
After they leave, and the door has closed, I realise how exhausted I am. I collapse onto the floor, leaning my head against the wall and closing my eyes. I let out a sigh. “Who knew one single day could be so busy, huh?”
I can hear Willy dropping his coat to the floor, and laughing quietly to himself. “Yes indeed, y/n.”
I open my eyes to the sight of him sitting on the edge of the bed, and it is only then I notice the most obvious of facts. There is only one bed in this room.
Willy seems to realise this at the same moment I do. “Oh,” he says.
“Oh,” I echo.
There’s a heat beat of silence, then Willy quickly gets to his feet. “I’ll sleep on the floor. You take the bed.”
“What?” I’m almost annoyed. My best friend is my favourite person, and I love him dearly, but he is almost too kind sometimes. Kindness is a virtue, but in Willy, it often hurts himself in the process.
“You take the bed,” Willy repeats.
“Don't be ridiculous,” I say, still on the floor. “It’s a big enough bed for us both. I won’t have the best chocolate maker in the universe sleeping on this cold stone floor. It’s uncomfortable.”
He raises an eyebrow at me. “You’re literally sitting on the ground right now.”
I shrug. “Floor time is fun for me. Not for sleeping though. That would be kinda awful.”
Willy smiles softly. “Alright, bean. We can share.”
I have no idea why he calls me that, but I’ve long since given up on asking. He always just grins his wicked little smile and says something like, ‘I’ll tell you one day’.
I close my eyes again, and yawn. “I’m so tired, Will.”
“Don’t call me that.”
I laugh, and open my eyes again. “Sorry not sorry. Help me up.” I hold both my hands out to him.
Willy walks over, rolls his eyes at my antics, and pulls me to my feet.
“Come on,” he says softly, his fingers lingering near my unbrushed, unruly hair. “Let’s get you to bed, bean.”
“Okay,” I mumble, suddenly even sleepier. His quiet tone and gentle touch are pulling me even closer to the darkness of sleep. I let Willy pull off my jacket, and I slide out of my dress, leaving just my petticoat and undergarments on. I crawl under the covers, shimmying as close to the wall as I can to allow room for Willy.
He shrugs off his vest and shoes, switches off the light above us, and climbs in after me, lying as far away as possible on the other side of the bed. I understand the politeness in his gesture, but my tiredness is fogging my brain up, and I want him to be close.
“Willy?” I almost whine.
“Yeah, love?” he whispers.
“Can you hold me?” I mutter, my eyes shut tightly. I barely register his reply, but I do feel his strong arms as they tighten around my waist, and pull me close to him. Then, the darkness takes me.
I wake up slowly the next morning, my senses taking longer than usual to begin working. Smell is first. Chocolate and mint and rain. Then sound. The familiar sound of my best friend’s breathing. Then touch. Warm blankets, warm arms, my cheek pressed against a warm, moving, yet somewhat hard surface. Then, finally, sight.
My eyes clear, and I blink the sleep away, and I’m met with something extremely unexpected, but also very pleasant.
Willy’s sleeping face, only inches from my own, his dark curls spread across his forehead and the pillow we share. His arms are around me, holding me tightly even in his sleep. My head is resting on his chest, which is slowly rising and falling with his gentle breathing.
I myself try not to breathe, not daring to even move. I want nothing more than to extend this moment for as long as possible, maybe even forever.
Willy’s eyes flutter open, and their soft chocolate gaze lands on mine.
He smiles, and I’m almost certain it’s the prettiest thing in the world.
“Good morning, bean.”
“Hi,” I whisper. “You still owe me the reason behind that nickname.”
Willy smiles, his eyes flitting all over my face, as if he’s relishing the closeness between us as much as I am.
“Because,” he says slowly, drawing out the word. “You are as important to me as a cocoa bean is to chocolate.”
I let that fact sink in. “Oh,” I manage, my chest filling with all the love I have for this boy beside me.
“What’s wrong?” Willy tilts his head down to look at me properly, concern filling his features.
“Nothing,” I answer. “I just… love you, Willy Wonka. I really love you.”
He smiles again, wider this time. “And I love you, my little cocoa bean.”
943 notes · View notes
violetrainbow412-blog · 4 months
Note
Hi!!! I just read your Wonka fics and they're all so sweet and I love them so much. I was wondering if I could request a certain fic? Here me out,,,,
So basically since there were only 6 bedrooms at the laundry place, the reader had their own room before Willy came but once he came the reader got switched to share rooms with Noodle since that's who they're closest too. The reader doesn't have their own bed for a few days until after they slowly(?) get closer to Willy, and build up the courage to walk to Willy's room in the middle of the night and ask to sleep with him. Nothing but sweet fluff.
Bonus points if Noodle catches them cuddling the next morning while they're asleep. :)))
Midnight Encounters [W. W]
Willy Wonka x fem!reader
word count: 2.2k
note: first, I have to say that I LOVED this as soon as I read it. I'm honestly afraid I haven't done this wonderful idea justice, so whoever asked for this, I'm very grateful. This is my favorite so far!
taglist: @dyieying @reallysparklychaos [Timothée masterlist]
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Scrubitt's wonderful building only had six rooms, and when a seventh guest (a forced worker, actually) arrived, you had to figure out a way to make it work. You and Noodle had no problem sharing a place due to your familiarity and that, of course, you were the youngest, to give the new laundry employee a bed of his own.
Mr. Wonka was a most peculiar man, who had gained your attention immediately and, as the days passed, also your affection. It was something like love at first sight, if there was such a thing, and you didn't know if it was due to his charismatic personality, his beauty, or his completely dreamy aura that had captivated you. Whatever it was, it was clear that every time he approached you let out a nervous sigh and he seemed to react the same way to your presence; somehow you knew he felt the same way, you didn't even know why, you just felt it. 
A good amount of time passed, enough for the two of you to share stories in the long hours you had to spend working, and trust was added to the list of things between you. You thought that the bond that was born between you could also be because you two were similar in age compared to the rest, who were younger or older. You suddenly started to enjoy chatting with him, he became the first one you looked for in the crowd and you also allowed him to help you from time to time, even if it was small things, just to be with him a little more. 
That was why that night, after thinking about it for so many hours, you slipped out of your shared bed with Noodle, ready to go out through the hallway in search of a little warmth to shelter you while you slept. Because if anything was true, it was that the little girl's room had always been colder than yours and you weren’t a person particularly fond of this condition. On the contrary, you would say that as soon as a little wind blew through the window your entire body was already shaking in protest, to the point that it had become unbearable to live through it.
You advanced automatically and when you reached the door of your old room there was a second of hesitation, where all the possible results for what you were about to do passed through your mind; some were more favorable than others, however, you knew that you wouldn't find out what was really going to happen until you dared to cross into the room. Would Willy be upset? you asked yourself. You just hoped you didn't scare him.
You carefully turned the knob, which had once been gold but was now only copper, and you were thankful that it didn't have a lock. There was definitely no time to chicken out, you knew when you watched the boy curled up on the bed move slightly, as if the air that had sneaked in through the door had bothered him.
You noticed that he was wearing only his light white shirt and a pair of pants, without shoes or socks. There was a certain vulnerability in the scene, almost like an invitation for you to take a couple of steps and simply slip into his arms and sleep peacefully. How would he feel? Would his skin be soft? Cozy? Would that grip be enough to help you get your long-awaited rest?
You closed the door behind you and the soft click it made was enough to wake the man, as if that had warned him of the intruder who had sneaked into his room. He sat bolt upright on the bed and squinted to peer through the darkness.
"Who is it?"
“It's me, Willy” you responded and upon hearing your voice he visibly relaxed. However, when he asked himself the reason for your nocturnal visit, he returned to alert state.
"What happened? Everything is alright?"
You had no valid reason to be there. Or maybe you had it, but it wasn't something you could explain to the man without exposing yourself, or exposing your feelings. Even if that were the case, you thought that it would sound absurd to confess to him that you were there just because you wanted to discover what it felt like to have him close to you, to feel his breath close to your face, to be sheltered by his body...
“Y/N?” he spoke again, probably because he thought you hadn't heard him the first time. He was afraid it was an emergency so you were there, not imagining anything of what was going through your head.
You finally found your voice, deep inside your chest, and were able to offer him an answer:
"I'm cold"
You honestly didn't know what else to say and deep down you hoped that was enough, but even so, Willy got up still sleepy and stumbled to reach you. 
“Oh, do you need a blanket?” he asked, while he could put his hands at your sides, holding your arms. His curls were messy and there were traces of sleep on his face. “Or would you prefer that I change rooms with you and Noodle? I wouldn't mind, although you should have told me before. If I had known, I could…”
"May I stay here?" you interrupted him. Your voice was a whisper in the darkness and he was still holding you, looking down at you with slight concern “With you?”
For a second he thought he was hearing you wrong and if he had heard correctly, he thought that perhaps he had not understood what you were trying to tell him. You looked disheveled and wore lighter clothing than usual, but he couldn't help but notice the innocence that bathed your face. You looked so pure and pretty that he felt dizzy, which only increased at the possibility that you were suggesting sleeping there; in the same bed… together.
“Huh… Are you sure?” he asked and instantly felt stupid. He just hoped it wouldn't scare you away.
“I guess I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t, right?” you replied, a smile escaping your lips. Suddenly the thought of him not wanting this came to your mind, realizing that it was completely valid “But if you don't want…”
“No,” he murmured, taking his turn to interrupt you. “It's okay if you want to stay here, I don't mind. I also feel a little cold”
If that was just to make you feel better, it didn't matter, after all you knew from the look on you that he wanted to do this just as much as you did. Well, it was that and the way his hand moved up your arm until it reached your face, where he brushed away a chunk of your hair and then kindly caressed your cheek. It was a gentle, loving, and sincere touch. 
Without waiting any longer, you walked between the buckets that stopped the leaks and the man followed you obediently, until the two of you were sitting on the mattress. It was small and worn, with barely enough room for a body to move freely, there was a thin blanket over it and a pillow that covered the entire length of the headboard.
“You look tired,” you pointed out, feeling a slight guilt for having snatched him from his sleep.
“I am a little,” he replied, while he yawned and rubbed one eye as if he wanted to corroborate what he was saying.
You wanted to have the courage to grab his face and kiss him right there, but you didn't dare; it had been too much, you had to control your impulses or you would end up scaring the poor boy to death.
“We have to sleep, then”
Willy motioned for you to take the inside of the bed and when you were lying down he imitated you, forced by the lack of space to position himself a few centimeters from your entire body. You felt small, not physically, but metaphorically, and his attentive gaze and playful expression didn't help much.
"Are you comfortable?"
“Mjm,” you hummed affirmatively.
You felt him stir next to you and then he spread the blanket over you, hoping that would ease whatever had ailed you in the first place. One of his hands began to move down and up your arm in an attempt to give you a little more warmth, which worked perfectly after a few seconds. You felt so spoiled by him.
You were silent for a moment, in which he didn’t dare to look at you for fear that you could read in his expression how nervous he had become. He didn’t expect your visit and feared he was dreaming, although his hand touching you kept him certain that this wasn’t the case.
“I assume I was your first choice for this, was I?”
“You were my only option” you relieved, in a low voice. You weren't going to lie to him, if you had already managed to sneak between his sheets you wanted him to know that you were only thinking about him “I thought your arms would be warm. And I think I wasn’t wrong”
Almost as if your words had been an incentive, he closed the distance even more, placing one of his arms under your head so you could use it as a pillow and using the other to surround your body. Your face felt red and you thought you would die of embarrassment, but instead you just buried your head in his chest. He smelled like chocolate and soap.
“Hey,” he whispered suddenly and you pulled your head out of its comfortable spot to respond.
"Yeah?"
Again he surprised you when you felt that you received a fluffy kiss on the forehead before an answer, managing to add even more color to the skin of your cheeks.
“I just wanted to see your face. Rest"
Would it be possible not to when you were sheltered by such a sweet man, who held you with the care of holding a piece of porcelain? You highly doubted it, to be honest.
Your response was only your arm stretching out from the blanket that covered you to surround his waist and thus become practically fused with him. It didn't take you long to feel the full weight of fatigue settling on you and thanks to the rhythmic beat of his heart, you fell completely asleep, now without a single problem to be able to rest.
In your dreams you thought you heard his voice, but you couldn't make out what he was telling you, and at some point during the night you tangled your legs with his, thus eliminating any remains of the distance you had with him.
Very early in the morning Noodle soon noticed that someone was missing in bed, and although at first she thought you had just decided to get up a little early, she got worried when she went out to look for you and couldn't find you anywhere. The girl wondered if something had happened to you, if you had escaped or even if the mistress had locked you in the closet, just like she did with her. She thought that she had to tell someone about your absence and then she believed that the best candidate would be Willy, because she knew that he would share her concern and help her look for you without any complaints.
She crossed the hallway with her bare feet until she reached the boy's room and once there, she knocked on the door twice.
“Willy?” she called out to him, but there was no answer. That's why she knocked two more times “Willy? Are you there?"
Noodle waited a few seconds for the door to open, but it didn't, and that worried the girl again. What if he had disappeared too? She didn't want to waste time and to find out she turned the doorknob, expecting to see an empty room. But her surprise was great when she looked at what was really behind the door.
It was obvious that the blows had woken the man, so when he looked directly at her he had already put a finger to his mouth to tell her to keep quiet. The girl noticed that there was a bundle curled up next to him, holding him firmly and with its head buried in the crook of his neck, but she opened her eyes widely when she recognized the pattern of the pants that was under the sheet.
At least the problem of your whereabouts had been solved.
"Is…?"
“Yes, but she's asleep,” Willy responded quickly, whispering, “Be good and let her rest, okay? There is still a little while before the laundry opens.”
She nodded, confused and surprised, and waved goodbye to him, closing the door carefully. Noodle smiled to herself as she returned to her room, while she thought that, with any luck, from now on it would be someone else who would have to share the bed with you.
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lixzey · 5 months
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mine, forever mine.
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Timothée couldn't help but smile as he watched his girlfriend, Y/N, sleep peacefully. She had looked so tired that he hadn't had the heart to wake her up, even though they had planned to go stargazing tonight.
He sat beside her, taking in her beauty and breathing in the smell of her. Timothée's heart thundered in his chest as he watched her sleep, her gentle breaths like a soothing melody to his ears. In the darkness of the night, he couldn't help but feel a sense of awe and admiration for the woman who lay beside him. She was like a delicate flower, beautiful yet strong, fragile yet resilient. As he traced his fingers over her skin, he wondered how he had been lucky enough to find her in the chaos of their world. Her laughter was contagious, and her smile could brighten up even the darkest of days. She had this way of making him feel like he was the only person in the world, and he loved her for that.
Timothée remembered how they met; fate had intervened in the most unexpected way, and he was grateful for that every single day. She was his best friend, his confidante, and his lover, all rolled into one. He couldn't imagine his life without her. When they first met five years ago, Timothée thought that she was way out of his league. Saoirse had convinced him to go out with one of her friends for lunch, and it was love at first sight. Timothée remembered that day vividly. He had been so nervous; his palms were sweating, but he was determined to make a good impression. He had put on his best outfit and made sure he was impeccably groomed. When she arrived, it was like the sun had suddenly come out and lit up the entire room. She was so beautiful and graceful, like an angel that fell from heaven, and he could hardly take his eyes off of her. Somehow, she had been able to see past his awkwardness and insecurity and accept him, no questions asked. She had quickly put him at ease with her warm personality and friendly smile.
It was like a spark of electricity that lit up his world, and he never looked back. He had never felt so alive before, and he knew that he was meant to spend his life with her. From their very first date, Timothée and Y/n had created the type of bond that most people spend their entire lives searching for. It was clear that they had a connection that would never be broken, no matter the circumstance.
Timothée admired how Y/n seemed to find happiness in the simplest things, always appreciating the beauty and little wonders that life offered. Y/n didn't deserve to get all of this hate, she was the purest soul. She taught him to slow down and accept life's imperfections, something he had struggled with in the past. Every time he looked at her, he thought the same thing: how lucky he was to have her in his life. For as long as he had known her, she was soft yet resilient. She had compassion and creativity.
Timothée was beyond grateful to Saoirse for setting them up in the most unexpected way. He couldn’t imagine his life without her. Y/n completed him in ways he never knew were possible. She knew his deepest fears and his darkest secrets, and yet she loved him unconditionally. She was his rock, his safe haven, and his home.
There were so many times that Timothée was certain she was going to walk out of his life. His career always got in the way of their time for each other. He always asked himself why she was still with him after all of the shit he'd put her through, like that one time when Y/n told him she was going to make dinner for him and completely forgot. But despite his shortcomings, Y/n stayed. She loved him because of who he was, and she assured him she was not going anywhere. Timothée was sure that his woman must have the patience of a saint, because sometimes it terrified him.
Timothée wanted to show her off and brag to the world about her. He wanted to tie the knot with her and spend the rest of his life with her. But his management stood in the way of that. He imagined them sitting on the porch of a cozy house, holding hands as they watched the sun set over the horizon while their children ran around, chasing each other through the yard. He couldn't imagine anyone else he'd spend the rest of his life with.
Suddenly, he had an idea.
I'm going to show her off, whether they like it or not.
Sighing, he leaned in to kiss her forehead. “Thank you for loving me, mon amour. I'm going to make it up to you. I love you.”
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“Where are you taking me, baby?“ You asked as you fidgeted with the cloth that covered your eyes. “Is the blindfold really necessary?” 
Timothée chuckled. “Be patient, mon amour. We're almost there; just hang in here tight."
“Can you give me a clue where you're taking me? Come on, babyyy!” You whined, your nose scrunching in annoyance, making your boyfriend laugh.
You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “Fine, laugh.”
It's been a week since the article blew up. You didn't give it any more attention; instead, you focused on your boyfriend, giving him all the love he deserves. You spent the week cooking for him, which he highly appreciated after a long day of working on the go.
Now, your boyfriend is taking you somewhere blindfolded. You had no idea where he was taking you, but knowing your boyfriend, it was another one of his surprises.
Suddenly, the car stopped abruptly. You heard your boyfriend get out of the driver's seat before opening the door on the passenger side.
"You ready, mon amour?"
“I can't see a thing; I'm absolutely ready.” You rolled your eyes at him—not that he could see it, though.
“There's my sarcastic girl.” Timothée chuckled, taking your hand in his and leading you out of the car.
Timothée slowly led you from behind, telling you when to turn and when to walk straight. After what felt like hours, Timothée finally instructed you to stop. You felt the soft grass beneath your feet and heard the faint background hum of a crowd of people. Finally, someone removed the blindfold, and you blink several times, trying to adjust to the sudden brightness. When your eyes finally adjusted, your breath caught in your throat.
The entire gazebo was lit up with twinkling lights, like thousands of stars had been scattered across the ground. Rose petals decorated the entire path leading to the middle. Timothée's family stood beside yours with huge grins plastered on their faces. Both yours and Timothée's friends were also there, smiling brightly. Bystanders stood around with cameras everywhere, trying to capture the moment. Suddenly, your eyes widened when your eyes landed on a familiar brunette; Kylie Jenner was smiling at you from the sidelines, giving you a thumbs up and silently urging you to go to your boyfriend.
You slowly walked towards your boyfriend, tears shining in your eyes as you realized what was happening. Timothée grabbed your hands, and life began to blur out around you as he began to speak.
“The very first time I laid eyes on you, I knew you were the one. You looked like an angel that fell from heaven, and I could hardly take his eyes off of you. You have this way of making me feel like I'm the only guy in the world. How have I been so lucky to find you amidst the chaos of the world? Your smile could brighten up even the darkest of days. You were like a spark of electricity that lit up my world. You taught me to slow down and accept life's imperfections. I can't imagine a life without you, mon amour. You are my rock, my safe haven, and my home.” His voice was shaky, but his words were clear and true.
Timothée fell on a bent knee, a beautiful diamond ring in his hand. His eyes were full of love and admiration. “So what do you say, my beautiful angel? Will you marry me? ” 
Tears welled up in your eyes as you gazed into Timothée's green eyes. “Yes,“ you whispered, your voice barely audible over the noise of the crowd around you.
“Yes, I will marry you!” You threw your arms around him, feeling his warmth and the beat of his heart against your chest. The crowd erupted into cheers and applause, and you felt as if you were floating on cloud nine. You leaned in close to Timothée and whispered, “I love you, Timothée Chalamet,” and you meant it with all your heart and more.
Timothée slipped the ring onto your finger, and the two of you shared a kiss that felt like forever.
You couldn't believe that you were engaged to the man of your dreams, the man who had swept you off your feet and made her believe in true love. You looked around at the smiling faces surrounding the two of you, feeling overwhelmed with happiness and gratitude.
“I hope you get used to my fans looking at you, mon amour.” Timothée chuckled, wrapping his arms around your waist. “I want to take you around the world. They don't have to understand. I'm going to rub it in their face that I put a ring on your hand.”
You giggled, kissing his nose. “That'll take a bit of getting used to.”
“I'm going to show you off, whether they like it or not.”
“You're the one.” You whispered, before capturing his lips in yours. “Mine, forever mine.”
You couldn't wait to spend the rest of your life with him, the man you love, your soon-to-be husband.
Your fiancé, your future, your Timothée, yours. 
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