#thimothee fanfiction

[choerypetal]

Secret Admirer / Regulus Black

Summary: Regulus had always harbored a soft spot for a particular member of the Potter family. This individual stood in stark contrast to James, and being a Slytherin only seemed to fuel Regulus's obsession with the sibling who exuded a delicate scent of orchids.

P.S : English isn't my first language, so I apologize for any minor grammar errors. Enjoy!

Regulus had no intention in falling in love. Or was it all in his head? 

God forbid he would need an excuse to glance in your direction or steal a look every now and then. The young man wasn't about to let you slip out of his sight so effortlessly. First, he had to admire every inch of your body, from head to toe. You were now his target, his prey.

He was well aware that this endeavor wouldn't be a simple one, especially considering you were the notorious sibling of James Potter himself.

Understanding your brother's protective nature, being associated with the Potter name wasn't exactly favorable, particularly from an ethical standpoint. Being a Slytherin only intensified matters, as it made you a target for Dark Wizards, much to James' dismay. For Regulus, this meant that even initiating a conversation with you posed a significant challenge.

Regulus remembered the very first time he had met you. Like every love cliché stories, it was during your first day at Hogwarts when your brother had been the light of everyone interest and Regulus had the chance to see your beautiful face exit the train and your hair seemingly blending itself with the wind. It was in that very moment that Regulus knew what falling in love was like. 

Being a Black meant enduring Sirius's teasing at his whim, and with his family's significant legacy, observing his close rapport with the Potters, one might have considered themselves fortunate to easily encounter you during Potions class. You were slightly smaller than your brother, inviting mockery from him and his friends when reaching for higher objects, coupled with a persistent plea until the class's final moments. However, one time, Regulus seized the opportunity to intercept them before you. It was also the moment when both of you heard each other's voices. Your small “Thank you” and the smile you bestowed upon him were enough to stir butterflies in his stomach, followed by inevitable teasing from Sirius later that evening, as it became evident that your brother's attention was on the two of you. 

After the initial encounter between Regulus and you in Potions class, James couldn't help but notice you two’s interactions. To his surprise, he found himself growing increasingly concerned as rumors circulated about Regulus's association with the Death Eaters, and perhaps even darker affiliations. As your brother, naturally, he wanted the best for you, but witnessing the potential dangers of Slytherin influence, it pained him to imagine you being ensnared by such influences. Little did he know, he was mistaken from the outset. 

Regulus was undeniably a good person, a fact known to everyone. Yet, there was something about him that intrigued you even more. You couldn't help but notice from the outset the subtle glances he stole in your direction during class. Your friends occasionally teased about someone showing interest in you, but you couldn't bring yourself to believe it, especially with your brother's constant reminders about keeping your distance from men, especially Slytherins like Regulus. Despite all this, Regulus was keenly aware that you were conscious of his attention towards you.

Despite your efforts to maintain complete innocence regarding your brother's request, you couldn't deny the temptation or the inevitable encounter with Regulus. Which meant, he couldn't resist drawing your full attention to him, resorting to leaving notes in specific places where you frequented. With his signature R.A.B.

As a result, you couldn't help but become somewhat frantic, eager to uncover the identity of your secret admirer. This lead to an interesting investigation between the two of you. 

This though first was brought up during lunch at the Dinning Hall. While he was away in his book, he couldn’t help but to notice and hear clearly his name being whispered from your own mouth. From this very moment, he couldn’t stop but to think— think about the endless dreams longing to hear your voice murmuring his name, begging to hear it, before it vanishes in echoes completely. How he would hold your hand seemingly, wondering off away from Hogsmeade to deep in the forbidden forest to admire the beautiful beasts you long wanted to discover amidst admitting it during class one time. Something he had not forget and it was these little details Regulus made sure of when the possibility of a real encounter. 

The encounter unfolded within the confines of the Library. As you embarked on your quest to locate a book recommended by your teacher, one that aligned with your fascination for magical beasts, fortune smiled upon you as remnants of the coveted tome remained available. Despite its widespread popularity for research purposes. Your satisfaction was tinged with frustration as the book eluded your grasp, just beyond your reach. Regulus, perhaps guided by destiny, seized the opportunity to intersect your paths. As he reached for the book he sought, a familiar fragrance enveloping him—the scent of fresh orchids that had captivated him since your initial meeting. “Perhaps a little assistance is in order.” He remarked, his voice resonating with familiarity, reminiscent of your encounters in Potion class.

However, on this occasion, instead of flashing your customary smile, your eyes widened in surprise at the unexpected presence of the boy who might be your clandestine paramour. Despite the initial shock, you swiftly pushed aside such thoughts and donned your smile. Yet, your cheeks betrayed a different sentiment, flushing with warmth at the tender touch of his cold yet inviting fingers intertwining with yours. It had been an eternity since you had been in such close proximity to Regulus. Despite your inner turmoil and unspoken desires, you couldn't deny the longing for his company, and the warmth of his attentiveness towards you.

“Thank you…” Your voice, gentle and familiar, whispered to his ear, betraying your unmistakable affection for him. Regulus returned your smile with confidence, yet beneath the facade, a sly smirk danced across his lips as he handed you the book, placing it securely in your grasp. With a casual glance at the title, he feigned surprise, though inwardly he had anticipated your newfound research interest. “A fan of magical beasts as well?” He inquired, his tone softened, a deliberate effort to win the approval of your brother, something he knew he must secure to further his intentions.

“Yes.” You affirmed, though the realization of once again finding yourselves drawn together in such close quarters was a surprise even to you. Despite the shared space, your presence seemed merely a distraction to him, your brother's attention firmly fixed on Lily Evans. Nonetheless, Regulus seized every chance to revel in the pleasure of your company, carving out moments for just the two of you. The burgeoning attraction between you was becoming increasingly apparent. “Looks like we always meet in times when I am deed.” You confessed, acknowledging the truth of your words, yet Regulus finding this statement to be nearly impossible to resist the allure of such intense desire, passion. And intimacy with a man who embodied all these qualities. 

As tempted as you were to acknowledge those thoughts, and even to acknowledge Regulus's correctness, you merely shrugged with feigned innocence. It was a quality that had captivated Regulus from the moment he first laid eyes on you. He longed to possess you entirely, to the extent that he would endure your brother's fury or the sight of the Potter girl tangled in Slytherin affairs. Regardless, his sole focus was to ensure that you belonged to him and him alone. 

And much to his liking, James being in the same room just a few tables from afar your study had take knowledge of Regulus’s presence. How his thumb would be casually caressing your chin and lifting up slightly to have a the opportunity to feel his lips against yours. Just this once, and perhaps even more. 

“You know…” His voice deepened, his warm breath grazing against your skin. In that moment, you realized you had been momentarily blinded by his actions, yet a stirring within you suggested that perhaps, like him, you were in love. In love with a man who sought justice and, undoubtedly, someone to cherish—a person with whom he could find solace and belonging. Regardless of your brother's approval, he remained unconcerned. “A little bird informed me that you've been receiving letters from a secret admirer. I couldn't help but be curious about their identity.” He confessed, his tone betraying a mix of intrigue and oblivious.

His voice, smooth as butter, dripped with both passion and curiosity, eager to uncover whether you knew the identity behind the mysterious letters. Despite harboring your own suspicions, you simply shrugged, a casual yet teasing smile playing on your lips. As he reciprocated with a gentle touch, his thumb grazing your chin, you sensed the tension radiating from your brother, torn between throwing a punch or holding back. Simultaneously, you were aware of your brother's intense gaze fixed upon you, even though your back was turned to him. In that moment, it was clear that he faced a choice: intervene or allow Regulus to kiss you.

“Don't,” Sirius mouthed the words silently, fully aware of Regulus's capabilities. If there was one thing he couldn't deny about his family’s qualities, it was the sincerity of Regulus’s feelings and intentions, especially when it came to the person he loved. Despite the complex dynamics between the Blacks and the Potters, whether as friends or foes, James couldn't bear to witness his sibling's sadness and envy once more. And so, with a resigned sigh, he chose to let it be. “Fine, but if he dares to break her heart. I won’t hesitate.”

As Regulus observed your eyes flickering from his gaze to his lips, he sensed a spark igniting between you. The way he spoke to you, the words conveyed on paper—it all pointed to one undeniable truth: your secret lover was none other than Regulus himself. A delicate smile accompanied by a soft chuckle escaped your lips, leaving Regulus slightly bewildered, prompting him to tilt his head in curiosity. “Though I may want to play the part of the suspicious and oblivious recipient of secret admirer letters, I believe I've unraveled the mystery.” You confessed with a hint of amusement.

Your confession alone was convincing, but it was Regulus's sigh that truly affirmed the man standing before you. He was undeniably your secret lover, unafraid to show his affection openly, even in the presence of your own brother. Regardless of family legacy or expectations, he cared not. As he drew near, the library eerily empty, his eyes never straying from yours, you felt the gentle brush of his lips before they melded into a long-awaited kiss—a kiss you both had yearned for, dreamed of, and finally shared.

Before you could even catch your breath, your fingers tenderly cupped his face, softly stroking his cheeks as he savored every moment of affection, his eyelids drifting shut. Then, your voice, sweet and longing, broke the silence. “Kiss me. Forever.”

Without hesitation, Regulus complied, pressing his lips to yours once again, unwilling to pull away until he sensed your brother's disdainful gaze. From that day forward, you became Regulus's other half, bound together by love and defiance.

[redskull199987]

Concubine

Paul Atreides x fem!reader Part II

Word Count:1.6k

Warnings:!SPOILERS! for Dune II, canon typical violence

Summary:"This princess will carry his name and yet, she will be less than a Concubine. She will never spend a moment of tenderness with the man she is tied to. But we who are called concubines - in the eyes of history we will be wives…"

Part I / Masterlist

She was pretty. You had to give her that. Your gaze closely followed each and every move that the Princess made. You knew that her head must have been chaotic at the moment, going through every possible scenario, how this situation could end. And you also knew that her first and last goal of this day would be to save her father’s life and secure the continuous reign of her bloodline.

But from the way she looked at you, you knew that Princess Irulan was aware of the fact that if she did marry Paul, she’d never get to share a bed with him. Would never bear his heirs or even receive an ounce of warmth from him.

She knew that even though you'd officially be Paul’s concubine, his loyalty would lie with you. And only you.

Chani’s hand on your shoulder pulled you out of your thoughts. It reminded you that before it ever came to that, Paul would have to beat the Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha.

You took a deep breath in, as you glanced over to the Harkonnen. You had heard stories of him back on Caladan. Stories of his thirst for blood and his enjoyment of Pain. His reputation preceded him, but his appearance clearly matched it. He looked almost eerily as he stepped forward, proposing to fight for the Emperor and defined his honor.

A small frown appeared on your face, when Paul accepted the proposal. Too fast for your liking. You heard Chani sigh next to you. You looked over to the Fremen. The Woman who had become like a sister to you, who had taught you the ways of her people. You remembered it as clear as day, when she had first told you, that you’d earned her trust.

It was the day you had joined the Fedaykin among their ranks, The day you became one of them.

You were high on adrenaline. You didn’t know how else you could’ve explained it. You didn’t know how else you would’ve pulled it off. Your eyes wandered over the many Corpses of the Harkonnen Warriors, that were supposed to protect their Harvester. Almost like in slow motion, you raised your hand, your fingertips wandering over the specks of blood that littered your face. You knew it wasn’t your own blood, but the thrill that the situation itself brought you, was indescribable. 

You needed a few moments to fully return to the present. The Spice in the Air was clouding your senses, making it feel like you witnessed everything merely from the eyes of a spectator and not as one of the Fremen who ever so fiercely attacked a Spice Harvester of the Harkonnen.

The Explosion pulled you out of your Trance.

You spun around, spotting Chani and Paul. They were fighting off a few Harkonnen warriors. But you quickly realized that Paul wouldn’t be able to defeat them all alone. You’ve never felt slower than in this moment, when you started running towards him. It felt like the Sand was pulling you down, seeking to swallow you whole.

But you didn’t let it. A scream left your lips, as you dashed forward, deeply burying your Crysknife in the back of a Harkonnen Warrior that was about to attack Chani from behind. You sank to the ground together with his Corpse, as Chani spun around, her eyes widening as she realized what had happened.

Only seconds passed, as you looked up to her, Anger and Determination all, that was on your mind. Chani gave you a small nod before Paul finally reached the two of you again.

“Re-load!”, Chani yelled at him and he quickly did as told, pulling out another round of Ammo, reloading Chanis Missile Launcher. 

You glanced past the Mainstay that the three of you were hiding behind. When you spotted the Ornithopter in the air, you gulped harshly.

“The shields only lower when he’s shooting!”, You shouted towards your companions. When you locked eyes with Paul, you immediately realized that the two of you had the same Plan.“We’ll distract him!”, Paul explained to Chani who gave him a court nod as she understood.

“Wait for our sign!”, You yelled, as you got ready to sprint over to the next Mainstay to distract the Sniper.

“Ready?”, Paul asked as he got into position next to you.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”, You grinned, despite the Seriousness of the Situation.

You took in one last deep breath, knowing very well that it could be your last one, before you felt Paul tap your shoulder, signaling you to start running.

Almost immediately, your instincts kicked in and it felt like you were a spectator again, watching how your feet carried you through the hot sand. You saw and heard the shots that rang in the Air as you sprinted through the Desert.

“Shit!”, You heard Paul yell next to you and you quickly realized what he meant, when you saw the Mainstay in front of you start to move further away from you.

“Run!!”, You shouted, as if it wasn’t obvious. 

You knew that from that moment and the point where you reached your destination, only seconds passed but it felt like hours as you ran through the sand. Mere moments before you reached the safety of the Mainstay, you heard Paul yell at Chani to launch the Missile.

 You were knocked over by the Force of the Explosion as the Ornithopter burst apart into the air, signaling to the Fremen that were hidden on the cliffs nearby that they could launch their attack on the Harvester, destroying it entirely. 

“Hurry!”, Paul yelled, as he pulled you to your feet and back over to Chani who was already making her way towards the nearby Dune. You had to disappear in the Desert again, before more Harkonnen would come and attack you.

That night you sat with the other Fedaykin, drank and laughed with them as Paul and you joined their ranks as respectable Warriors of the Desert. You received your Fremen name and you realized that your Heart, your soul and your entire being was with them now. You would fight for them as long as you breathed, would even go to death for them.

And Chani seemed to realize it too.

The young woman had always acted cold towards you, but when you saved her life on that day, risking your own for hers, she realized just how much of a loyal friend and fighter lay in you. From that day on, You knew that you could always count on each other.

“He will survive…He will win.”, Chani whispered into your ear and squeezed your shoulder as you watched how Paul and Feyd-Rautha got ready for their Fight. As the Gaze of the Na-Baron crossed yours, you sucked in a deep breath. What you saw in those eyes scared you.

It was a thirst for Blood and Power that you had only seen in Paul as he drank the Water of life.

You quickly looked over to Paul, giving him a firm nod, signaling him that you were on his side. His eyes told you more than words ever could. It was a silent promise. A promise to come back to you, to survive this battle and to put his plan into action.

It was a Promise that he would become the Emperor.

“I must not fear”, You mumbled to yourself, as the fight began,”Fear is the Mindkiller.” 

Your eyes followed every little move of Paul as well as Feyd-Rautha. The two men were equal fighters, both born to be the One. But only one of them would win, only one of them would come out alive.

“Fear is the little death that brings total obliteration.”, You whispered, as you watched Paul get knocked over the head, Blood trickling down his temple,”I will face my fear.”

“Is she your pet?”, Feyd-Rautha mocked as he gave Paul a moment to collect himself. The Na-Baron grinned wickedly and pointed his knife at you. You paid him no mind, as your eyes only rested on Paul, silently telling him not to let himself be provoked.

“I will permit it to pass over me and through me”, you mouthed as Paul got up and the Fight commenced anew. 

Your breath hitched as Feyd-Rautha swiftly disarmed Paul, ramming the Crsyknife into his ribs. A guttural groan left Paul's lips as the two fighters stood close to each other. Wheezing breaths were the only noise to be heard in the room.

“And when it has gone past I will turn to the inner eye and see it’s Path”, You whispered desperately, the Mantra being the only thing that kept you from panicking.

All your senses were focused on the two men in front of you as you witnessed how Paul silently pulled the Crysknife out of his Body, getting ready to attack. Feyd-Rautha barely had time to react as the holy knife of Shai-Hulud pierced his armor and therefore ended his life by the hand of the new Emperor. 

“Where the Fear has gone there will be nothing”, You mouthed as Paul got to his feet again. His steps seemed to carry the weight of the Universe as he walked over to the old Emperor, demanding him to kneel in front of his new Master.

Reluctantly the old man did as told, as he accepted his defeat. Princess Irulans gaze slowly wandered to you, as her father fell to his knees.

“Only I will remain.”

[coffys-blog]

[isaacarellanesismyhusband]

cut

pair: Timothée Chalamet x reader

summery: y/n(she/her) and Timothée work on a movie together and they have to film a kiss scene

masterlist | navigation

❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿

You stood on the set, heart pounding in your chest as the lights dimmed slightly, signaling that the next scene was about to begin. The crew bustled around, adjusting cameras and microphones, but all you could focus on was the man standing a few feet away—Timothée Chalamet. He caught your eye and gave you a small, reassuring smile. You returned it, though your nerves were hard to mask. You had been working on this movie for weeks now, but today was different. Today, you had to film a kiss scene with him. You had mentally prepared yourself for this. After all, you were professionals, and this was just another part of the job. But knowing it was all part of the script didn’t stop the butterflies from fluttering in your stomach.

“Alright, places everyone!” The director’s voice echoed through the set, snapping you out of your thoughts. You walked over to your mark, feeling the warmth of the set lights on your skin. Timothée moved closer, taking his spot in front of you.

“Ready?” he asked softly, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

You nodded, trying to steady your breathing. “Yeah, ready.��

The director called action, and suddenly, you were no longer Y/N, and he was no longer Timothée. You were your characters, caught in the midst of an intense, emotional moment. The script had led you both here, to this kiss that was supposed to convey everything left unsaid between your characters.

Timothée’s hand gently cupped your face, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek. His touch was soft, tentative, as if he was afraid you might break under the pressure. You looked up into his eyes, and for a moment, the world around you disappeared. It was just the two of you, suspended in time.

Then, slowly, he leaned in. Your heart raced as his lips met yours. The kiss was tender at first, almost hesitant, but then it deepened, becoming more urgent, more real. You could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin, the way his fingers tangled in your hair.

It felt like an eternity and a single heartbeat all at once. And when the kiss ended, you didn’t pull away immediately. Instead, you found yourself lost in his gaze, your noses barely touching as you both caught your breath.

His eyes were a shade of green you hadn’t noticed before, a mix of intensity and vulnerability that left you speechless. Neither of you moved, trapped in the moment, until—

“Cut!”

The director’s voice jolted you both back to reality. You blinked, realizing how close you still were to Timothée. You quickly stepped back, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. He cleared his throat, a slight flush coloring his own cheeks as well. You both avoided each other’s gaze, trying to regain your composure as the crew adjusted for the next shot. The director approached you with a wide grin.

“That was perfect, you two! The chemistry was incredible—so real. Just what we needed!”

You managed a small smile, still trying to shake off the lingering effects of the kiss. “Thanks,” you murmured, glancing at Timothée, who gave a quick, somewhat flustered nod.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of filming, but every time you caught sight of Timothée, you couldn’t help but remember the way his lips felt against yours, the way his eyes held yours as if you were the only person in the room.

[destielholmes]

DARKNESS 6 - Part 2

                                                              6

It was getting warmer by the second, my t-shirt was starting to glue to my body, and I just wanted to rip my jacket off. Isaac remained next to me, which confirmed his family was behind his appearance. I was happy he engaged with my little conversation – even if it was just a bit, even if his family made him be by my side – it still made me happy.

While I was struggling with my inability to control my discomfort from the heat and thought Isaac's little stay would end after I had my lunch, he proved me wrong as he told me to follow him outside. I tried to hide my sweating body from my parents as we walked outside. The faint breeze hit my face, which made me melt. I opened my jacket slightly to welcome it in, but it wasn't enough to satisfy my dehydrating body. The taste of the sweetness of the air made me want much more. I want to show you something. He told me as he watched me dissolve within the breeze. Heat wasn't a concern anymore, as he captivated me. I followed him, keeping a safe distance, afraid to scare him off with my voice or annoy him with my figure, I remained invisible. I wanted to explore his little world.

Through the trees we've been that same morning, skipping the blood that the ground drank, he took me away from my safety and closer to my desire. We walked for a while, the same skinny trees kept the landscape on our horizon, but I didn't know anymore where we were. I was lost in that forest, with only my captor to lead me out.

Whilst the fog seemed to be long gone, the heat kept rising, and I couldn't keep my composure. I had to show him again the marks he left on me, and I was afraid he would leave me. I took my jacket quietly, not to disturb his newfound patience. I tied my enemy to my waist and kept the pace. This far away from the house my parents wouldn't see.

When the trees started to fade a new place came to view. Much like my little friend, back at the old house, this one also shone to the sun. But unlike my little friend, Isaacs friend was much bigger, tranquil and unmoving. Down in a small quarry, surrounded by trees, was a lake. The water wasn't pristine blue, but I could still perceive the fish swimming around. A wooden deck was built at the side we came up through, which had a few things laying around, asserting it wasn't abandoned. Isaac helped me down past the rocks and to the lonesome deck. Down there, the air stood still, no wisp of breeze, only peace remained.

Isaac pulled off his shirt, forcing me to stop my cheeks from redden, averting my eyes from him. One more minute and you'll melt. He jumped in the greenish water, making it come to life. He wasn't wrong, I almost looked like I had already disturbed the quiet lake.

I took the jacket away from my waist and dropped it with the rest of the clutter, like he did, and jumped after him. The water wasn't too cold, just enough to take my warmness away. I opened my eyes to see the greenness void. I felt his movements though the waives he made. If I could've held my breath longer, I would have felt all of them. I came up to the surface where Isaac was waiting for my approval. I giggled with ecstasy, and he smiled – for the first time. I made certain to carve it into my memory, so I wouldn't forget this moment. He made me want to live so I could hope for another moment like that.

He turned around, diving into the new movement of the water; I followed. I'd dived deep into it, so I could touch the ground, to understand that it was real. Resurfacing with a found spirit of existence, I let out a scream of joy, that was answered with another scream from Isaac. It was pure bliss, another human communicating with me. Could I be normal too? I felt butterflies in my belly, coldness at the surface of my skin, I felt the air I was breathing... I was alive.

We laughed at our stupidness. I danced in the water, as the leaves danced in the air. I forgot about me.

I couldn't tell how long we stayed floating around, I wondered if I could stay there forever, but my wrinkled-up fingers told me no.

Isaac helped me out of the water, as the weight of my clothes pulled me back in.

I told him that was the most thrilling thing I've ever done. He smiled and handed me a chair. We sat in the sun's direction, waiting for the heat to hunt us again. We felt like completely different people. I wondered if he would let me be his friend. I stole a glimpse of him – water drops shining with the sunlight, glued to his body, others fleeing to the wooden floor. The image of the innocent young boy was being erased from my mind, replaced with him. His cut curls, his new framed features, his frowning face, his muscly body, his pleasant voice... I wanted to drown within him and his peculiarity.

I'm sorry. He spoke. I would have responded if I wasn't drunk with him. The bruises. He clarified. I wasn't sorry. They would keep you with me for as long as they dwelt. I told him not to worry, that I would keep them away from my parents.

He explained that it wasn't his intention to hurt me. I was afraid. He murmured.

I smiled, amused at his statement, and asked if he was afraid of me. He looked back at me – of course.

I pushed him for a reason, and although he didn't want to respond at first, he eventually told me. You took away my freedom.

Copyright © 2023 DestielHolmes.  All rights reserved.

Author's note: Thank you for reading! Btw I've edited all chapter on wattpad and fixed some spelling errors. I encourage you to read it all again because it's been a while too. Don't forget to support the story, like and comment. I would also appreciate if you could vote on the chapters on wattpad. Thank you!!

          ← 2.5                               MASTERLIST                                2.7 →

[98shawns]

one to ten. (t.c.)

ten times you love each other. ten out of countless.

words: 2522

warnings: nsfw, language, alcohol consumption

an: lol i know i’m a shawn blog but now this is my white boy blog so i can do what i want!! and timmy literally makes me want to cry he’s so sweet and cute i love him aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!

o1: ritual.

“I love you.” Timothée’s voice is sweet as he smiles into the phrase. It’s a bidding of farewell as he leaves for his morning schedule, but when you turn the corner to see him off, he hadn’t even had the door opened.

Instead he was waiting for you; shoes on, with his hands in his pockets, and a grin on his face. You roll your eyes and walk over to him.

“Have a good day.” Your hands come to his shoulders to pull him into a kiss. His grin widens as you pull away, and he rested his hands on your forearms.

“You too.” He says, sliding a hand to reach yours to give your knuckles a small kiss.

You end up finally chasing him out with a laugh, but he leaves only thinking of you, and how he can’t wait for the end of the day to see you again.

.

o2: remedy.

“I love you.” You whisper the three words like a spell against the shell of Timothée’s ear and he can’t help but sigh. Today was horrible; stress and pressure had built towers upon his shoulders and he wouldn’t let them break down on him. Not in public at least.

He didn’t even take his jacket off when he fell face first into your bed, head landing straight into your lap.

Your fingers left the pages of your book to run through your boyfriend’s chocolate locks. Your heart ached as silence filled the room. You wished that you knew some sort of magic spell to wipe all his problems off the universe; but you couldn’t.

The closest thing to magic you knew how to do for Timothée was leave the bed for a moment to rummage through your dresser for an extra pair of clothes for him to change into. He hadn’t moved an inch when you came back but once he felt your gentle touch on his shoulder, he complied with your silent request to roll over and sit up.

You try to keep a neutral face as you stand between Timothée’s legs to bring him into a hug. You feel him sigh into your chest; where his head rested. His arms wrap around your middle and he gives you a squeeze.

Timothée finally cracks a smile when you pull away from the hug and bring your hands up to his cheeks to kiss his forehead.

He knows how sweet you are; how you wished you had solutions to all his problems, and how you hated that you didn’t. But that was okay with him. Being there to be with him at the end of the day was solution enough.

.

o3: spell.

“I love you,” He chants it desperately between pants against your lips. Almost as if he didn’t remind you every day. I love you. I love you. I love you. Like a spell he’d cast to make you his forever.

You casted the phrase back. I love you too. And gasp when you feel Timothée’s hands travel below the waistband of your shorts.

Two of his nimble fingers found themselves spreading your slit, and you find yourself grinding against his digits to feel some sort of relief.

“I’ve barely done anything and you’re already this wet for me…” He seems unaffected but you were hovering over his lap and felt his growing length pressing against your thigh. All you could do was bury your head into the crook of his head and nod.

The action makes him smirk as two of his digits slide into your core. You squeak and tense up at the sensation, and Timothée’s mouth lovingly finds your neck.

All he can think of is how much he loves this. He loves how sensitive you are. He loves how he knows that it’s so easy to get you riled up just because it was him. He loves how your hips buckle against his fingers when he curls them just how you like it. He loves how your juices drip over his digits and how your whole body shakes when he gets you off with just his fingers alone.

But he eventually wonders if it’s just because he simply loves everything that you do, because he finds you just as lovely as he positions his length at your core once you’d barely ridden out your high.

And when he hears your moans come out breathless and strangled once he moves his hips; he just finds you one thing: lovely.

.

o4: gratitude.

“I love you.” Timothée grins as he whispers it into your ear as you cry at his performance. His hands rub your arms as you try to stop your tears from falling, and you hit his chest as he laughs at you.

“You’re the most talented human alive.” You manage between sniffles and he feels like his smile has never been wider.

You’ve always been his number one supporter, and you were the reason why he loved his job so much. The way he could tell a story and move someone, anyone to tears with his art made him feel honoured.

But he doesn’t tell you that. Not when you were already a crying mess, at least. Instead he gazed at you thoughtfully, replies with a simple “Thank you.”, and wipes your tears away with the pads of his thumbs.

.

o5: calm.

“I love you…” It’s the first thing he says before suggesting that the two of you need to talk your problems out before you go off on a frenzy by accusing him of things that weren’t true. It was a rare occurrence, but useless fights are unavoidable in any relationship.

You try to keep a cool mind but everything felt like it was crashing down at once. Life was testing your boundaries by ruining everything you’ve worked hard for; and you and Timothée both knew that lashing out on him was just an excuse to blow off some steam.

You felt like you’d go insane if you admitted that you were in the wrong. So instead you don’t say anything, and he sighs.

“Please tell me what’s wrong. I can’t help you if you won’t tell me anything.” His eyes aren’t filled with any malice, just worry, and you begin to feel even worse. This wasn’t fair; not for him. You wouldn’t let life ruin the both of you either. Not when there wasn’t any need to.

“You’re right, I’m sorry.” You finally admit defeat, and Timothée sighs as he takes this as his cue to run his thumb underneath your eye to wipe away a stray tear. He wraps his arms around you and doesn’t pull away until he feels you do the same, resting your chin on his shoulder.

“Thank you.” His face relaxes. Relief. And you realize how lucky you are to have someone who knew how to be rational.

Somehow, your mind cools.

.

o6: beautiful.

“I love you,” it’s a whimper that falls from your lips as he thrusts into you. His name and other praises of affection leave your mouth; the mouth he loves so much, and he can’t help but bite down onto the skin of your neck as he takes you from behind.

“You’re such a good girl, you like being fucked from behind that much?” He grunts when your walls clench around his cock at his words. His hips rock faster and your voice becomes whinier.

“T-Timmy– I– I’m going to– I–“ Coherent sentences escape your mind and blur with pleasure when Timothée’s nimble fingers find your clit. He knows what you want and you’ve been patient with him. He has every intention of giving you what you're going crazy for.

“Cum for me,” He moans, lips latching onto the side of your neck as his thrusts became sloppier and his fingers moved more urgently.

You cry out as his hips slammed against your ass a few more times, and the knot in your stomach becomes undone. Your upper half collapses onto the bed as Timothée’s movements become slower to help you ride out your high.

But you barely catch your breath when Timothée pulls out and flips you onto your back. His eyes were still dark as he studied your face, with your eyes glazed over and half open, and swollen lips parted while you panted for air.

“You’re so beautiful… I love you so fucking much...” He murmurs to himself more than anyone before giving you what felt like the hundredth kiss than night.

He sucks on your bottom lip as he spreads your legs, and you mentally hit yourself for thinking that Timothée was anywhere close to being done with you for the night.

.

o7: plenty.

“I love you.” It’s said against your ear, but trapped inside your phone. All Timothée could do was frown when you tell him that you love him back in a raspy voice.

The only horrible thing about shooting globally was that he wouldn’t be able to see you for weeks; maybe months on end. He missed important days like birthdays and anniversaries with no mercy from his production crew; but this is what he signed up for so he wouldn’t complain. He loves what he does, after all.

And he’s glad that you understand. You always remind him that you’re just a call away, and he knows you’re right but it still never sits well with him when he can’t hold you in his arms. Especially when you need him most.

But he tries his best, and that’s all you need.

.

o8: care.

“I love you!” Timothée chuckles as you drunkenly pepper kisses onto his face the second he opens the door to welcome you home. He holds you by your waist as you wrap your arms around his neck to bring him into a deep kiss.

He smiles; alcohol from your staff party lingers on your clothes and tongue but he still could only find you that much lovelier. He knew you were an inherently affectionate person since birth, but your shyness always dissipates in beer bottles and tequila shots.

“Hey, you’re really hot. Can we do it?” You pull back and ask breathlessly. It takes him a few moments to process your request, but when he does he’s speechless. All he does is laugh before sweeping the hair falling in your face and cupping your cheeks.

“No. Doing it is a no no if you’re this drunk, but we can get you to bed instead. I swear it will feel equally as amazing.” He suggests, smiling when you pout before dragging you towards your bedroom.

“Well if it’s a no then why’re you taking my clothes off?” You slur your words as Timothée helps you step out of your outfit. You comply when he sits you down at the edge of your bed before pulling out more comfortable clothes for you to sleep in.

“Don’t go to sleep yet,” He laughs when your eyes start drooping right after he helps you into your pyjamas. You barely notice him disappearing into the kitchen until he comes back with a glass of water and an aspirin. You groan when he makes you consume both of them to completion, but he’s indifferent as he tucks you into bed.

“Aren’t you going to kiss me goodnight?” You whisper, still drunk but still somehow so lovely in Timothee’s eyes. He grins and pecks your forehead, cheeks, nose, and eventually lips before whispering a goodnight.

And a final I love you is the last thing you hear when you’re finally lulled off to sleep.

.

o9: tender.

“I love you.” You giggle as Timothée pulls you into him, and the couch sinks as you straddle his lap. He smiles into the kiss he gives you as his hands slide up your thighs.

He’s in the middle of unbuttoning your blouse when he pulls away to stare at you. His eyes turn into crescents as he smiles at you, and you scoff.

“What?” You ask, pushing his curls out of his face. Timothée shrugs before wrapping his arms around your waist.

“You're just... really beautiful, is all.” He says. Almost innocently.

You melt at his words and kiss his forehead. He chuckles and finally slides your shirt off your shoulders before connecting his lips to the crook of your neck.

You squeal as he gently pushes you down onto your back, and before you know it his lips are on yours again, kissing you before slowly pulling away.

“I love you,” He whispers. You stare into his eyes and smile. You believed it more than anything.

.

10: first.

“I love you!” Timothée revels at how much he says it casually nowadays. He says it for simple reasons, like when he wakes up and you’re the first thing he sees, or when you tell him that you’d pick up milk for him before you get home over the phone. There was no real reason as to why he even said it any more other than that he loved you at every moment.

He always smiles to himself when he remembers when the two of you first exchanged the three words. You were the first to break, only one month into your relationship when you were seeing him off after a night in at your apartment.

The two of you agreed to take it slow but when you somehow kissed him goodbye before casually telling him, “Bye, love you.”, he was over the moon. He tried not to make a big deal out of the thoughtless comment, only giving you a wide grin as he gave you one last kiss before leaving.

A text ensued right when he got back to his apartment.

My Baby[00:03]:

Hey! Sorry if that was weird when you left.  I know that we agreed to take it slow but tonight was just so fun, it just kind of slipped out… I hope you weren’t too put off by it. Sorry again.

Back at your apartment, you were banging your head against the wall when he didn’t respond, even twenty minutes later. He was weirded out. You knew it. You just liked him so much… he made you so happy that you couldn’t help yourself.

A knock at your door snapped you out of your self-loathing and you wondered why anyone would do such a thing at 12:30 in the morning. But when you answered, you couldn’t even process when Timothée lunged towards you to give you a kiss. You stumble back but he steadied you by wrapping an arm around your waist.

He pulled back, breathless, and laughed when he saw that your eyes had popped out of their sockets. He brought a hand up to one of your flushed cheeks. He knew you’d be surprised that he came back, but part of him also knew that he had to say it back in person.

“I love you, too.”

[closeshocks]

Thimothee Chalamet icons!!!

Like if u use/save

•Icons are not mine!•

[reino-dos-fas]

Imagine

Depois que o pai de Hal o deserdou e humilhou publicamente, ele foi até a única pessoa que podia o consolar. Você. O príncipe não bebeu, por mais que a mente dele clamasse por isso, a preocupação com o irmão era demais para ele se permitir perder os sentidos. Mas ele ainda precisava de alívio. Ainda precisava de um toque gentil para acalentar o coração ferido. Ele odeia o pai, mas nem todo ódio do mundo é capaz de abafar certas palavras. Não quando elas cortam tão fundo. Hal sempre diz a si mesmo que não se importa com o reino, com o trono, mas horas como essa tornam difícil continuar se enganando. Ele é o herdeiro, e sabe que faria um trabalho muito melhor que o velho moribundo que usa a coroa. Mas nada disso importava no momento. Hal só precisa chegar até você. Tudo ficará melhor quando ele vir o seu rosto, seu sorriso. Vir você abrir os braços, sentir o gosto dos seus lábios, as suas mãos no cabelo dele. Ele precisa ouvir você dizer que tudo vai ficar bem, mesmo sabendo que não é verdade.  

[wtfmalfoy]

                                            ► ʜᴇɪʀs ᴏғ sɪɴs  ◄

𝐑𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐥𝐮𝐬 𝐀𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐱𝐚𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐟𝐨𝐲-𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤: 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐀́𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐚 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐉𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐲𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐧𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬!

❝𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒔𝒂𝒊𝒅 𝑰 𝒂𝒎 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒌𝒂𝒓𝒎𝒂 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒚.❞

[coffys-blog]

[wtfmalfoy]

                                               ► ʜᴇɪʀs ᴏғ sɪɴs  ◄

❝𝐰𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐰𝐚𝐫, 𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞, 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐮𝐦𝐚 𝐨𝐟 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬, 𝐰𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐢𝐧.❞

𝑡𝘩𝑖𝑟𝑑 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 - 𝑐𝘩𝑖𝑙𝑑𝑟𝑒𝑛 𝑜𝑓 𝐴𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑙𝑎 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐽𝑎𝑠𝑜𝑛 𝐵𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑘, 𝑂𝐶𝑠 𝑐𝘩𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠 - 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑘𝑖𝑑𝑠 𝑏𝑜𝑟𝑛 𝑤𝑖𝑡𝘩 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑣𝑖𝑙 𝑖𝑛 𝑡𝘩𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑠𝑘𝑦 𝑖𝑛 𝑡𝘩𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑒𝑦𝑒𝑠.