#timothee chalamet fanfic

[strawberriescherrieskiwi]

HC of Paul and Feyd when someone challenged their claim on the reader / tries to take them as their wife

They would lose their fucking minds.

Some Duke from another planet would be armored with you from the moment he sees you. So much so that he would try to convince you to leave your husbands.

He would send you gifts, offer to take walks with you, and write you little notes of love.

You would not entertain him, but you wouldn't tell your husbands either. You would like the attention a bit. So you would smile and be polite to him. Maybe a bit more than you are with other people.

Things change when he goes to your husbands and decides to challenge them for you.

You are shocked and both of your husbands are livid. Feyd grabs you roughly and drags you back to your bedroom while Paul pulls out his dagger ready to end the "suitor" He claims to be your lover and knows what you want.

Feyd is mercilessly with you, he tossed you on the bed. Riping your clothes off and his in record time. He's silent which scares you slightly. He holds your hands in a tight grip above your head as he fucks you into the bed for hours.

You are overstimulated and begging him for a break, but he ignores you. At some point, Paul arrives and now you are trapped between. Trembling and holding on to them so tightly, crying your loyalty to them until your voice goes.

You are bruised and weak when they are done with you, but they only dress you in a dress in their house colors and drag you into the throne room.

You are forced to sit and watch as they take turns fighting with the Duke. They could have ended the fight quickly, but they played with him. Like a mouse in a trap. Cutting and stabbing him but never enough to kill him just yet.

While one fights the other has you sitting on their lap cockwarming them.

[violetrainbow412-blog]

PAUL ATREIDES MASTERLIST

REGULUS BLACK MASTERLIST

WILLY WONKA MASTERLIST

[kteezy997]

can i request timmy and reader being costars and they have to film a bit of a spicy scene where they’re supposed to make out and basically dry hump each other. he ends up accidentally making her cum in her flimsy panties under the skirt she‘s supposed to be wearing. he doesn’t notice at first but then he sees the signs, the way she tenses up, how her hips stutter, the more authentic moans than the ones before, the look in her eyes as he kisses along her neck like scripted and one tiny, barely audible whimper of his name. his real name. not his characters name. which surprises him but turns him on like crazy. he ends up getting hard and reader notices after she‘s down from her high. then after the scene they’re really awkward towards each other at first but they end up fucking

Perversion//t.c.

Warnings: smut obvi, degradation, little bit of praise, cursing, light spanking, smoking

There were worse things in life than having to do a sex scene with one of Hollywood’s most promising actors. Timothée Chalamet was often referred to as his generation’s Leonardo DiCaprio. But you had gotten to know him as just Timmy.

You had big crush on him, as did a lot of people that worked with him, probably. He had this way about him that made you feel seen and special. You’d be lying if you said that you weren’t excited about your intimate scene with him today. It may be the only time you’d ever be so close to him. You had to remind yourself that it wasn’t real, though, and that there were cameras and crew members all around.

The director instructed you to get on the bed, lying on your back. Timmy stood nearby, shirtless with a pair of jeans on as he chatted with a producer about the scene. It was dark outside, and the night was dreamy.

The director called action and Timmy climbed on top of you, kissing you upon contact. The directions were to make out and touch each other all over, with some dry humping on his part.

It felt so good being under the weight of him. His lips were soft and gentle, but he devoured you like he was starving. Timmy nestled between your legs. The only barrier keeping him from you was your thin panties you had on underneath your skirt.

His crotch grazed against you over and over as the scene progressed. He moaned, but it was just acting. He grabbed your ass, and groped your boobs.

Your body tensed up. His actions and his sounds were consuming you. You were soaking your panties.

Timmy’s soft hair brushed your cheek as he kissed and nipped at your neck. You felt the wetness of his mouth, his warm breath, and his teeth ever so gently on your throat. He squeezed your thigh, and that was it.

Your hips stirred and you moaned, but it was real. “Oh, Timmy.” you whimpered softly, only for him to hear.

It was then that he looked at you, breaking character himself, and he realized what happened. It was real for you. He made you come without evening knowing. You moaned his name, not the name of the character he was playing.

“Cut!” called the director, “That was great guys. Let’s move on.”

You rested against the throw pillow under your head, and you steadied your breathing.

Timmy stayed still for a second, his hands rested on your hips.

You looked down and saw that he had a hard-on under his jeans.

Without saying a word, he got up and walked directly off the set.

………

Later, there was a dinner for the cast and crew. You and Timmy sat together as usual, as you had become friends since working on the movie together. But it was awkward between you now. You didn’t know what to say to him. You didn’t want to make it any weirder than it already was.

He was very quiet, and fidgety, nothing like himself. He didn’t talk to hardly anyone. Especially you. You were so disappointed, so scared that you ruined everything. Fucking hormones. Fucking feelings.

You decided to try to give him a compliment, to break the ice. “You were great today, by the way. You always do an amazing job, Timmy.”

“Oh, I can kiss? Thanks.” Timmy snarled in sarcasm. He finished eating and off he went again.

His remark left you feeling even more uncomfortable than before, and you really wanted to make things right. You took it upon yourself to go find him in his dressing room and talk this out.

You knocked on his door, “Timmy? I’m sorry about earlier, okay? Let’s talk.” you begged.

You stood there a moment and just as you were convinced that he wasn’t going to answer, the door opened.

“Hey.” you said, “Can we just pretend that what happened earlier didn’t happen?”

He shook his head, “No, y/n, we can’t.” he answered sharply.

“Fuck,” you sighed, “I’m sorry. I should have controlled myself. But I thought we were friends. I was hoping we could look passed this."

“Well, it’s hard to be friends with someone after they give you a boner, and then all you can think about is fucking their brains out.” his eyes flicked up at you.

Your eyes widened, “What?”

Suddenly, he grabbed you by the back of your neck, forcing you into the room. His mouth was on yours before he slammed the door shut. It was a strange contrast to how he was in the scene. His lips were acting fast and harsh, "Take off your clothes." he ordered, his low voice hardly resembled his natural tone.

Fuck, you wanted this. You wanted him. You'd do anything he said. He let you go so he could lock the door and you began to undress like he told you to.

Once you were down to your bra and panties, he shoved you against a table, "You're still wearing the underwear you came inside of earlier?" In one movement, he unclasped your bra and pulled it off of you.

You let out a huff as he shoved you face down on the table. You whimpered as you felt the coldness of it on your nipples. You placed your hands on the tabletop, and your cheek rested on it.

"Little slut wants to be fucked by me so bad." he grumbled, yanking your panties down.

The air was cold on your soaked pussy. You shuddered at the sensation.

"Holy shit." Timmy said under his breath, he touched your clit, letting his fingers run along your labia.

You gasped as he entered a finger into your sensitive hole, "Fuck." you muttered. You shifted on your feet, feeling so needy, and so dirty.

"You're so desperate. So pathetic." he spat. He shoved in a second finger, pumping them in and out of you. A light smacking sound hit the air between you and him. He rubbed your clit softly, achingly slowly. He did it to tease you, to edge you, you knew it.

You'd take his insults, or whatever abuse he wanted to heed against you. You wanted him so badly. You could feel his clothed boner rubbing against your ass. His fingers were removed from you, and without warning, the palm of his hand came down fiercely on your ass cheek, leaving a stinging pain on your skin.

As you cried in ecstasy, you heard his zipper come undone, and he shoved his cock into you in a matter of seconds.

"I'll fuck you like the needy little whore you are." he growled, pumping his hips into you, his waist slapping your ass loudly.

You moaned and muttered small cries of pleasure. Once his fingers met your clit, as his cock rammed you, it was just a minute before you came. Your legs grew weak, but he held you up. You had no choice but to keep yourself on your feet.

Timmy grabbed a handful of your hair, he didn't pull, but he got you to raise up some. You looked ahead of you, seeing a mirror. Oh god, you could watch him fuck you!

You saw your own reflection as well, your hair was madly disheveled, your skin flushed with color, as well as the skin of your lover. Timmy let out an exhale, and you noticed some sweat on his neck. He didn't look into the mirror; his eyes were fixed on you. He'd alternate between fucking you roughly, and then giving you shallow pumps of his cock. He gave little tugs on your hair, but not enough to really hurt. He was being playful.

He smacked your ass again. The muscles in his torso flexing and bulging as he rocked into you. You felt like you were watching porn, but it was you that he was fucking, so you felt all the effects. It was incredible.

He pulled you closer, your back against his chest now. He let go of your hair and placed his hand on your throat. He pulled you into a kiss. Soft pumps into you now, but he was hitting you deep.

"mmm." you moaned into his mouth.

Timmy slipped his tongue in, letting it roll with yours in a heated French kiss. He palmed each of your tits roughly and nibbled on your bottom lip.

He pulled away from you after a moment, his hands left you, but his cock remained in your pussy. He tapped your hips lightly with his fingers, saying, "Fuck me, y/n."

You then used the little amount of strength you had left to throw your ass back against him. You whimpered loudly as his cock railed your insides. Your butt cheeks slapped his waistline, and you heard him chuckle lowly in satisfaction. He held your hips and started to pull you to him with each of your thrusts.

"Ah fuck, so good." he praised.

You weren't sure what turned you on more: his insults or encouragement.

His fingers met your lips, and you opened them. He wet his fingertips with your spit, then slid his fingers down the front of your body to find your clit again. You couldn't keep moving, so he took over for you, ramming his cock into you as he rubbed your clit. Your body shook with overstimulation, and you came again.

Timmy pulled his cock out of you, and turned you around, and put you on the table. He jerked his cock for a few seconds before his cum busted out in several ropes.

You gasped as his creamy seed collected into tiny puddles on your abdomen. You relaxed against the flatness of the table, trying to catch your breath, coming down from your high.

Timmy muttered some curse words under his breath before leaning over you, his hand planted right next to your head. He smirked and kissed you, moaning onto your lips.

He then walked over and picked up a t-shirt from somewhere in the room and tossed it on you.

You used the shirt to clean up his mess, and you heard the flick of a lighter. You looked over to him and watched as he lit a cigarette.

He closed his eyes, leaned his head back as he inhaled. He blew out the smoke and opened his eyes, catching your gaze.

"Those are bad for you, ya know." you said as you sat up on the table. You couldn't help but smirk at him as you thought about what had just occurred in the dressing room.

"I think you're worse for me." he joked, grinning as he took another drag.

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @bitchyunknownuser @lixzey @kpopgirlbtssvt @ducktapebar

[bonesandchalamet]

slumber party - t.chalamet

masterlist

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

pairings: dad!timothee chalamet x mom!reader

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

a/n: this is short I’m sorry love!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[babyflorencee]

Worries and apologies

Timothée Chalamet x fem!Reader

I slammed the passenger door of my fiancé's car shut as I stormed inside mine and Timothée’s house, not caring enough to wait for him to get out of the car. I walked into our bedroom, crawling into bed, and pulling the blanket up to my neck, my back facing the door.

I sat there taking in everything that had happened earlier that day, growing more upset as I replayed Timothée screaming at me in front of our family and friends over and over again in my head.

Timothée and I had planned on going to dinner with our close friends and family as a way of spending our 3 year anniversary, but it didn't go as any of us expected. We ended up getting into an argument before we could even leave the restaurant.

I laid in the dark as tears started to form in my eyes as I tried to sink further into the mattress, wishing that I could just disappear.

I eventually decided that I was going to stay at a hotel for a few days, since I figured Timothée wouldn't want to see me. I grabbed the telephone that was on the side table, dialing a hotel's number as I waited for them to pick up. Once they did, they informed me that there would be an available spot in an hour. They said that they just needed to get it cleaned and that they would call back when it was ready. So I made a reservation before I got up from my bed, walking into my closet, grabbing my pajamas and a couple of outfits before stuffing them into a small bag. I went back into bed, waiting for the phone to ring, when I heard the bedroom door opening and then slamming shut. I jumped a little at the noise as I pulled the blanket up more, hoping that he wouldn't try to talk to me. However, my hopefulness soon disappeared as I felt the bed dip.

I pulled the blanket further up my body, as I tried to pretend that he wasn't there. Which worked up until I felt his arms wrapping around my waist, pulling me closer to him until my back hit his chest, pressing a kiss to my shoulder. I sat there, not moving, waiting for him to talk. It didn't take long before I heard him speaking in a calming tone, slightly whispering. He almost never spoke that way with me unless he knew I was unhappy with him. He thinks that if he lowers his volume, it will make up for raising his voice at me, but it doesn't.

"Y/n, I'm sorry for earlier. I shouldn't have raised my voice at you. It won't happen again, I promise." He said, pressing a kiss on my neck with every word he spoke.

I knew that what he was telling me was the truth, but I couldn't help but feel like it wasn't. So I stayed put. I felt him holding onto me tighter as I started to feel bad. I was about to roll over when I heard the phone starting to ring, "hello, who is this?" I heard Timothée say, as I closed my eyes, hoping that it wasn't the hotel. 

"Oh uh no I would like to cancel that reservation." He said in a serious tone.

I looked up seeing him with an unreadable look on his face, soon enough he put the phone down as he turned to the side to face me, "You were going to leave?" He asked me, moving a strand of hair away from my eyes.

I didn't know what to say. How could I tell the man I am about to marry that I was thinking of leaving him for a few days? So I just nodded my head.

"Please don't ever leave me, I'm so sorry." Timothée said, his voice breaking, before engulfing me into a tight hug.

 "I won't, I’m sorry, I forgive you," I whispered in his ear, wrapping my arms around his neck, playing with the tips of his hair. 

"Promise?" He asked, keeping his head into my neck, not wanting to look at me.

"I promise," I said, pressing a kiss on the top of his head as I pulled his body closer to mine, my heart melting when he wrapped his arms around me.

[petersasteria]

You're Losing Me - T.C.

Pairing: Timothée Chalamet x fem!Reader Warning/s: angsty Words: 4,155 Note: I was inspired to write my first ever timmy fic bc of @meetmyothersouls! <3

Flashing lights of the cameras and photographers calling out your name echoed the red carpet as soon as you stepped out of the limousine. You smiled brightly, excited to be attending your first red carpet event. You’re an actress that was given her big break last year and now you’re at the premier of your first ever movie starring Tom Holland and yourself. It was fun working with Tom Holland and you’ve grown closer as filming progressed. You can finally say that he’s now one of your best friends along with his girlfriend, Zendaya.

The whole time at the movie premier itself was a blur. You treasured your first ever movie, but you were way more excited for the after party. You couldn’t wait to meet new people and make new friends while you party all night.

You quickly got changed after the premiere and went straight to the after party venue. There, you saw him. Timothée Chalamet. You’ve obviously never met him before, but you always wished to be even in the same room as him and there he was, talking to Tom and Zendaya.

Tom glanced your way and motioned you to come over. “There’s Y/N!” Tom smiled.

Timothée looked in your direction and you could’ve melted right then and there. He was so magnetic. You were so drawn to him that everything began to move in slow motion. He gave you a warm smile and when you were finally with the group, he offered his hand for you to shake and simply said, “I’m Timothée. It’s nice to finally meet you!” 

You shook his hand and blushed a little, “I’m Y/N, and it’s nice to meet you too! I’m a huge fan of yours.” 

“Really? Because, I’m a fan of yours too. The way you portray your character is amazing and it feels real, if that makes sense. There’s no doubt that you’re very talented and I’m excited to see more of your work!” Timothée said.

“T, you don’t need to be so formal around her.” Zendaya chuckled. 

“Oh, that’s alright! It’s actually pretty cute.” You giggled. Tom and Zendaya looked at each other with a knowing smile before looking back at both of you.

“Z and I will get drinks for us four. We’ll be back.” Tom said as he winked at you. You found it weird, but you shrugged it off.

“So…” you started. Timothée looked at you and asked, “Are you nervous? I don’t know, I just feel that vibe from you right now.”

“Yeah, I kind of am.” You admitted with a laugh. You sighed in relief after getting that off of your chest. Timothée laughed and said, “What are you nervous about?”

“Honestly? Seeing you made me nervous. You’re just so great and being able to stand next to you is already such an honor. You’re, like, my celebrity crush.” You told him. It surprised you how casual you were in saying all that. He was surprised to know that he was your celebrity crush.

When the after party ended, he followed you back on Instagram and asked for your number. From then on you’ve been texting non-stop. You started becoming friends and Tom was really happy for you. Turns out, he and Zendaya have been wanting to set you up with Timothée for a long time and they seized the opportunity when they found out he was invited to attend the after party.

After a year of being friends, he asked you to be his girlfriend. Of course, you said yes despite hearing many people tell you that he’s sort of a playboy. You didn’t care because the only thing that mattered was you and him. Immediately, headlines about your new relationship began to emerge. He was your first serious boyfriend and in the headlines, you were just another one of his girlfriends. It hurt that people saw you that way, but Timothée reassured you that he loves you and he’s serious about you too.

The first year of your relationship with Timothée was the best. He took you to Paris and gave you a promise ring. “I know it’s not an engagement ring and I know how much you want to get married, but I just want to give you this ring as a promise that I’ll replace it with an engagement ring someday.” He said as he blushed. His nose was pink because of the cold and he slipped the ring on your finger before giving your hand a kiss. You smiled at him and gave him a huge hug. “I can’t wait!” You exclaimed happily. You truly loved him with all your heart. You felt nothing but utter bliss.

Along with the first year of your relationship came some small struggles. Timothée got busier with movie projects left and right and you were struggling a bit in handling your new fame. You were lucky that Timothée was there for you to help you. You attended all of his movie premieres and he attended all of your important events too. Everyone loved both of you and even called you “couple goals”. You were supportive of each other and his fans were thankful for you for posting pictures of him often. Both of your fan bases grew from there. Despite the growing popularity, you and Timothée started a tradition. You and him decided that every Friday night would be your “indoor-catch up-dinner date”. You loved every second of it.

The second year of your relationship your acting started to boom. Soon, your name was as big as Timothée’s. Seeing as your relationship was very public, many directors always cast you and  Timothée alongside each other for a more real chemistry on and off screen. Your Instagram was soon full of behind the scenes photos of you and Timothée. The fans absolutely loved it. This continued on until the fourth year of your relationship. Because of the money you both earned, both of you decided to buy a house together to move into. It was you and him against the world.

Timothée entered one of the rooms and was in awe. It was empty, but the light that shone through the window made the room more beautiful. It wasn’t the master’s bedroom, but it was special. Without thinking, Timothée looked at the realtor and said, “We’ll buy it!” You looked at him like he was crazy, “We didn’t see the other houses yet.”

“I know, but this room right here is too special to pass up. The light in here is just as gorgeous as you and y’know we could make this our game room or a date night room. We could slow dance in here or play cards or work. I’m just so excited to be spending some time with you here.” He said as he lovingly looked at you.

The fifth year of your relationship started being rocky. You never thought anything of it. Timothée did bring up the idea of not accepting projects that have something to do with you and him being together. “Oh, may I ask why?” You asked, wondering why he brought it up. “Y/N, I love you, but I miss being able to work with other people. I hope you don’t take it the wrong way. I loved working with you as a couple for, like, three years. We made over six movies together and I cherish every single one of them. I just want to work with someone now.” He confessed. It hurt hearing him say that, but you knew he was right. Both of you needed to grow as actors and for that to happen, you had to work with different people. You looked at him and gave him a small smile, “Alright. I understand.”

“Thank you.”

Soon, he was casted in a lot of movies with different people and you decided to widen your range. You walked on runways, you starred in commercials, you guested on podcasts, and you starred in music videos. You were always present when Timothée had a premiere, but he started lessening his public appearances with you at your events. Everyone didn’t seem to notice. Maybe because his projects were overshadowing yours or maybe because your important events didn’t seem as important as his. You didn’t mind, though. You just longed for him to be next to you.

In your sixth year, a video of Timothée went viral when an interviewer asked about you and his smile dropped a bit and said, “Y/N’s doing great. I’m happy for all her achievements. As much as I want to talk about her, I’d like to focus on the film please. That’s what we’re all here for, anyway.”

Meanwhile, a video compilation of you talking about Timothée went viral. Many fans noted how different you two are. Many say you didn’t deserve him. Others say that you’re too clingy for Timothée’s liking. You decided to post on your Instagram story, defending Timothée.

You defended him a lot more times after that.

You got nothing in return, though.

You stared at the promise ring on your finger during your seventh year and wondered when Timothée would propose. You were experiencing the seven year itch; it’s your make it or break it year as a couple. Many fans speculated a break up after seeing Timothée do nothing. You still defended him amidst all negativity. You posted him all the time and he only posted you once on your birthday. You were growing tired, but you faced every single day with a smile on your face, hoping to trick yourself into being your usual self.

Timothée started bailing on your Friday night dates, often choosing to party with his friends to celebrate something that didn’t concern you. You still cooked and made the whole place look nice, though. You didn’t know why. Maybe deep down you knew that your relationship is in shambles and that you needed to convince yourself that everything’s fine. You knew many people were questioning Timothée’s love for you and in an effort to save his reputation, you took a picture of all the food you prepared and posted it on Instagram with the caption: tim may be out with his friends now, but he made sure to cook these for me before leaving. thank you, my love.

You didn’t know what hurt you most: the fact that you did that or the fact that Timothée liked the post and commented “no problem. Anything for you. Enjoy.”

You cried yourself to sleep that night. Timothée arrived home when you were silently crying. You felt the bed dip down on his side and he whispered, “Thanks for the food. I’ll eat it tomorrow.”

You made it through another year. It’s your eighth year dating Timothée and he still hasn’t made his promise come true. However, you drowned yourself in your work. So much so, that you were even busier than Timothée now. Headlines were vile, though. Timothée was out of the country filming his new movie and you attended red carpets on your own. Many people compared your relationship with Tom and Zendaya. Many people attacked you for Timothée’s lack of presence.

“Y/N! It’s so great to see you. How do you feel that Timothée is not here with you on your special day? You’ve been nominated as Best Actress in your new film, but Timothée is nowhere to be found.” The interviewer asked.

“He’s out of the country filming for his new movie, actually! I’m extremely happy for him. He’s been truly blessed.” You smiled brightly at the interviewer despite feeling sick to your stomach as you had to put up an act in front of the interviewer.

“Well, I’m sure he would make time for you. Tom Holland always finds a way to support Zendaya on the red carpet all the time. Why can’t Timothée do the same?” 

“Um,” You started. You feel so uncomfortable right now. “I don’t think you should compare my relationship with others because every relationship is different. Timothée supports me too in his own way. He’s a silent cheerleader, always has been and I accept him for it. Thank you.” You said before walking away. You wanted to cry.

After that, Timothée never even called or texted to ask if you were okay and how the event went. You entered the room you and Timothée loved and sat alone in the dark and cried. You were so tired of feeling this way, but you loved him with all your heart.

Your ninth year comes around and you find yourself glaring at Timothée almost always. You were just waiting for him to break up with you already so you could move on with your life. However, Timothée has been spending time with you a lot lately which made it hard for you to get mad at him. Even if what he’s doing is the bare minimum. He’s been taking you out on dates, he was bringing back the Friday night catch-ups, he’s posting you more on social media, and he even took a break from acting just to be with you on set. It gave the fans joy. It gave news outlets something to report about. Most of all, it gave you hope. Maybe the old him is finally back for good.

During your tenth year, a lot of people were confused. Everyone thought you’d be married with children by now. An interview of you and Timothée from ten years ago recently went viral. In the video, the interviewer asked you and Timothée where your relationship stands in ten years. Timothée, in the video, simply answered, “probably still together” with a small chuckle. You, on the other hand, excitedly said, “by then we’d most likely be married for about five years with two or three young children”. The fan who posted the short clip on Twitter captioned it with: it’s been ten years, but nothing happened at all i hope my parents are okay :(( 

Your body language has been on autopilot for a while now. In front of the cameras, you smiled brightly and laughed more, but if you looked closely, your eyes had no life. Your heart grew cold too. You were immune to any shenanigans Timothée has put you through. After years of not being in the same movie together, you and Timothée were casted as the main characters of a film by Greta Gerwig.

In the press conference, one interviewer asked you and Timothée about the video that went viral. “Yeah, we saw the video. I forgot about that to be honest.” Timothée chuckled as he looked at you with a small smile. You never looked back at him, though. You just stared at the interviewer and said, “I forgot about it too, but y’know when you’re working, you always don’t know that a few years have already gone by. One day, you’ll just realize ‘oh wow it’s been a long time!’. So, yeah.”

“Any plans on getting married soon? I mean, I think I speak for everyone when I say that everyone wants to see the Hollywood It Couple to finally tie the knot.” The interviewer added.

“I’m always ready for marriage. I think I’ve always been ready… no matter how tired I was. I think I’m just waiting to be asked.” You chuckled half-heartedly as you put down the mic on your lap and looked at Timothée, who was now looking at the interviewer. You looked at him with hope. You wanted him to defend you just once because you knew you looked like an idiot waiting for him. Thinking about it made you tear up, but you held your composure.

“You know, for me, marriage is just a piece of paper. I feel content with what I have now. Let’s see again in ten years.” Timothée joked, causing everyone to laugh with what he said going over everyone’s head. You nodded to yourself and looked away from him. You gave a big smile as everyone laughed. You were dying and he was laughing. How can he be so dense?

Vogue did a photo shoot with you and Timothée on your anniversary. They interviewed you too about having a long relationship. At that point, you were lying to yourself. Any body language expert would see that your eyes had no spark as it once had when you started dating him.

You were at the point in your relationship that you couldn’t feel him anymore. There’s only so much your heart could take. In your eleventh year, you found yourself sneaking out of your shared room to go to yours and Timothée’s favorite room. You would sit in the dark and cry at ungodly hours. You would sleep there too. Timothée never even looked for you. He just assumed you had work and left early. It happened a lot. Sometimes, when you walked out of the room, you’d smell something good coming from the kitchen. He was cooking breakfast.

“Oh, you’re here! You’re lucky I cooked a lot.” Timothée chuckled and set up a plate for you. He looked at you and it was evident that you’ve been crying. “Are you okay?” He asked.

Hearing that made you cry again. For the first time in a long time, he finally asked you that. Regardless, you nodded through your tears and wiped them away. “I’m alright. I was just reading a script that someone sent me and it just hit hard, I guess.” You answered with a teary-eyed smile before sitting down on your usual seat. You started eating the food he cooked as tears streamed down your face.

Your birthday came around and Zendaya threw you a surprise party at a club that you liked. Timothée wasn’t even there. He was working late on set. He probably forgot about your birthday. You didn’t care anymore. Your relationship is already in shambles anyway whether he knew it or not. When the party ended, it was raining hard outside. When you arrived home, there was no electricity due to the heavy rain. You didn’t go straight to your shared room with Timothée. Instead, you went to your favorite room and there was Timothée in the candle lit room with a small cake on the coffee table. He smiled at you and said, “Happy birthday, Y/N! I’m so sorry. I forgot, but I hope this makes up for it. I know it’s not perfect, but hey, today’s Friday catch-up. What a great way to celebrate your birthday, huh?”

You sat on the bean bag chair, stared at the cake, and looked at him. You were crying again. He frowned and knelt down in front of you, “What’s wrong? Do you not like the cake? We can get a new one tomorrow, I promise-”

“When are you going to stop with these promises, Timmy?” You said, your heart wrenching in pain. It was heavy, what you were feeling. You couldn’t handle it anymore.

“What do you mean? I don’t understand what you’re saying.” He said. He was lost.

“I know you don’t understand. You never did understand anything.” You cried. “It’s time to stop lying to ourselves. We haven’t been okay for so long and I feel sick to my stomach seeing you act as if we’re okay all day, everyday. I’m tired, T. I’m so tired.”

He looked at you; he really looked at you. It was then that he saw the bags under your eyes, the puffiness, the redness, and he saw the pain in your eyes take over the spark of joy. How could he be so blind? You were long gone.

“I’m tired of putting up a happy face in front of everyone. I’m tired of pretending that you’re happy for me. I’m tired of wondering how you can watch me walk the red carpets alone while you’re away in some country filming a movie. I’m tired of comparing and wishing for you to become more available to me. I’ve been supporting you since day one and you couldn’t even do the same for me.” You cried heavily.

“Is that how you really feel? I brag about you all the time to my friends whenever I see you strutting on the runway or walking on the red carpet with your castmates.” He said softly.

“That’s different, T.” You sighed heavily and stood up. “That’s different.”

“I wanted you there with me.” You sniffed.

“I am-”

“No! You’re not! You’re never here for me!” You shouted angrily as hot tears streamed down your face. “You left me to fight my own battles. You left me to fend for myself. You left me to defend you when many people said awful shit about you.”

“Who said I needed defending?” He asked, stubbornly. “No one did.”

“No one asked me to defend you, but I did it because I loved you! Don’t you get it?! I made sure to paint a good picture of you in front of everyone because I loved you!” You cried.

“I’m tired of pretending that I’m okay. I’m tired of hoping that the old Timothée I fell in love with will come back to me. I’m tired of asking myself when we’ll finally get married. I’m tired of defending you. I’m tired of proving to other people that we’re very much in love even though we haven’t had a picture in years.”

Timothée looked at you as tears streamed down his face. He was so blind to it all. He kept quiet as he listened to you.

“Prolonging this relationship is a huge mistake.” You confessed sadly. “I feel so sorry for myself because I look delusional, thinking you’ll back me up for once. Thinking maybe you’ll surprise me on the red carpet, but no. It’s always been your projects over mine.”

“Our friends are married and they have families now and I’m sick and tired of being left behind. I feel like I wasted years of my life just for this relationship to work, hoping every year that maybe things will change. I guess I never learned my lesson. I just wanted you to see me, but you never looked at me at all. I just wished you would look at me with the same passionate look you would give to the crowd. It’s hard to admit that you love them more than you love me.”

“The fucked up part is I can’t seem to hate you because I love you too much to do so. It breaks my own heart to decide not to be with you anymore.” You cried. “All these years waiting for you to just leave me is tiring. I’m leaving instead. My world revolved around you and it’s time that it stops.”

“I gave you a chance multiple times. You never did anything for me. You never said anything. You never lost anything. You never even risked one day of filming just to come see me. Your loyalty lies with your job and if it wasn’t clear to me before, it’s crystal clear for me now. I’m sorry for not being good enough.” You sobbed. You looked down at the promise ring sitting on your ring finger for the past ten years. You looked at him and walked towards him. You took off the ring, grabbed his hand and placed it on his palm. “Give it to the next girl you promise to marry. Just follow through with it this time.”

“Y/N, the only girl I want to marry is you.” Timothée cried. “I was going to propose tonight.”

Both of you sobbed as you looked at each other with very different emotions. You looked at him with tired eyes and in defeat. He looked at you with forlorn and hope; he hoped you would change his mind, but he knew deep down that you were tired of choosing him all the time. He knew you were going to choose yourself now.

“You’re so unfair, T. If you said that years ago, you knew I would’ve said yes even before you knelt down and showed me the ring. An engagement ring isn’t a band-aid for a broken mirror. If I said yes now, we’d still be broken; I’d still be broken while you’ll be out chasing the world as I’d chase after you.”

“I love you, Y/N.” Timothée cried. “I really do. I hope you know that.”

“I love you too and I’m afraid I always will, but I have to go.” You sighed heavily as you wiped your tears with your hands. Timothée pulled you in for a tight hug and you did the same.

News of your break up with Timothée was all over social media. You decided not to say anything. You were too tired of fending for your relationship on behalf of you and Timothée for years. It was his time to return the favor.

[lola-la-cava]

Met ‘23

Timothée Chalamet x Reader

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

“Y-yeah, don’t even worry about it. Who needs air?. Just… keep going” I say as they continue to tighten the corset. I grip my waist, sucking up as much air as I can.

All of a sudden, I hear a familiar voice tsk. The women helping me with my dress backs up, causing the piece of clothing to loosen.

“Did she put you up to this?”, he asked the woman. She nodded.

“Traitor!”

He laughs at my quip and comes up to kiss my cheek. “You look beautiful”

Timothée looks me up and down, examining the dress and taking my hand to twirl me. “You don’t look half bad yourself.” I giggle.

The curly haired boy gasped, “Half bad? Come on! Give me a little more credit!”

“Ah fine! You look gorgeous!” I praise, getting my body close to his to pull him in for a needed kiss.

“Ah, ah, ah. I’m not done yet! Couldn’t keep your hands to yourself, huh, lover boy?” my make-up artist comes to pull us apart and retouching my lipstick.

“How could I?” he stared at me with a love sick stare that I didn’t quite notice at the time.

Timothée hears a quick snap!from the camera. He whips his head around to see one of the photographers catch the perfect moment.

“Whoops” the guy shrugged.

“You people are sickening!” my assistant screamed from the other side of the room.

Timothée answers back, “Jealous much, Meg?”

“Ha. ha.” she teased. “I happen to enjoy being all alone, thank you very much”

I playfully roll my eyes at her antics. “Yeah, sureee”

“Aaalright, Y/N you’re set!” She pats my cheek as I look at her with grateful eyes.

Timothée’s arms wrap around my front once again as soon as she let go. His head resting on my shoulder, kissing my neck

“I just hope lover boy here doesn’t ruin your make-up”

“No promises” he giggles as he playfully placed wet kisses on the side of my head.

“I swear, you will never hear the end from me if you do” she warns him.

“Now, get on out there. Tons of people are expecting you”

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

Ah, the calm before the storm.

Well, as calm as it can get. Which was not very.

They stood in the line before getting their pictures taken. Celebrities in extravagant clothing surrounded them. Some familiar faces present that Y/N took note to say hello to later on.

Y/N smoothed over her dress and brought her hand up to fix her hair again. Timothée noticing this, he interrupted her movement and took her hand. He squeezed it three times before kissing it.

I love you.

She took her hand back and grabbed her phone from a discreet pocket on the dress.

She scrolled aimlessly through social media, trying to get feeling of impending doom of my mind.

Her eye catches a random headline from an entertainment news update account. It read:

‘Timothée Chalamet and Kylie Jenner hard launching their relationship at tonight’s Met Gala? Y/N Y/L/N left in the dust?’

She lets out an obnoxious scoff. Timmy hearing it, he looks at her screen, reading the obviously made-up headline.

“God, they’re still on that?”

He notices his partner’s silence. “Come on. You’re not really bothered by this, are you?”

She opened her mouth to say something. No words came out. She merely shrugged.

He gripped her shoulders and pulled her in for a bear hug. Timothée rested his head on hers as she got close to his chest, hearing the comforting beat of his heart that never failed to comfort her.

The couple stayed like that. “Trust me, mon coeur. I wouldn’t have this any other way. I’m perfect where I am and who I’m with”

“Shit, I actually might cry. I never know what to say when you say this sappy shit”, Y/N chuckles as she puts her hand up to mess with his styled hair.

Feeling her hand creeping his back, Timmy pulls away and bows. “I aim to please you. It’s my sole purpose in life”

A smile instantly appeared on her face and butterflies in her stomach. Nothing had definitely changed from when they first started going out. Same sparks, same chemistry, same tension. Whatever you wanna call it. It was there. They had it.

She tugged on his hand, pulling him in for one more kiss. Y/N looked at him, looking over the features she admired so much that she practically memorized them. Her gaze lands on his lips.

Some of her lipstick and gloss had transferred to his lips. She quickly tried to get the makeup off. “Shit, wait hold on. You have some-“

He smacks her hand away. “No, no. Keep it.” He rubbed his lips together getting the substance to cover all ground.

“Y/N Y/L/N and Timothée Chalamet? They’re ready for you.”

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

“Right now, I’m here with everyone’s favourite couple, Timothée Chalamet and Y/N Y/L/N” Emma, the interviewer, spoke with enthusiasm.

We’d just finished the carpet and were almost home free. Camera flashes blinded my vision as I tried not to close my eyes throughout the whole thing. Screams of my name were heard throughout the venue. Meddlesome questions and controlling demands to pose a certain way were yelled. To which, I didn’t respond to. Why should I? I maintained my balance by holding onto Timothée. You’d think after a few years, you’d get used to the bordering aggressive personalities you have to deal with every single day.

It turns out not really.

“How does it feel to be back? I mean, you guys have gone before, but how does it feel to be here as the quote-unquote, it couple?”

Me and Timmy both give awkward chuckles as we heard the last two words.

“Uh- I really don’t know about that last part, but it just feels great to share such a meaningful moment with him. I’ve personally dreamed of attending since I first saw it as a kid and to be invited for the second time… It’s just… yea”, I answer, not being able to expound on the statement.

Emma hums and gains back the mic.

“So, rumors have been swirling about the internet that actually said othewise. Do you have anything to say about that?” She points the microphone at Timothée this time, definitely hinting at the Kylie rumors.

He seems taken aback by the question, not knowing what to say and the only thing I’m able to do was squeeze his hand. Three times.

I love you.

Emma realizes this with a regretful look on her face. She leans toward both of us as she moves the mic away.

“It’s totally fine if you guys aren’t comfortable. We could just mov-“

He takes the mic, she gives him a grateful small smile.

“No, I uh, me and Y/N have actually seen a handful of tweets about this and I just wanna set the record straight and say we are very much still together”, he nods as he hands the microphone back to her.

“I think I’m right by saying that this has definitely relieved viewrs at home and me.” We laugh genuinely at her quip.

I imagine people on Twitter have stopped adding fuel to the fire after what he said and can have a better goodnight’s sleep later in the evening.

“And that’s our time. I’ll see you lovebirds inside! Have a great time together!”

We both shook her hand and left with an indebted expression for keeping it mellow (for the most part) after such a nerve-wracking red carpet.

“Very professional with that answer, Chalamet”, I hook my arms with his and leaned on his shoulder.

“Of course, ‘gotta remind everyone you’re still my girl”, he says with a smug smirk.

I laugh, “Your girl? I suppose that means you’re my boy?”

He playfully rolls his eyes. “Come on! As if you didn’t know that from the beginning”

“Ohhh, I know. I just wanted to hear it from your mouth!”

[lixzey]

The Unknown Number

a/n: again guys, please ignore the time stamps!

Your eyes widened as you saw photo. “What the fuck?”

Was it really him? Or was someone else catfishing you? If someone was in fact, catfishing you, they were doing a great job because the photo they had just sent was new. Timothée has never posted a photo like this before. Maybe, it was one of his staff? It had to be, because there was no way in hell that Timothée fucking Chalamet would reply to some random number.

Suddenly, a notification popped up on your phone from instagram.

tchalamet added a post!

tchalamet SNL tonight RUN IT

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Oh fuck, it really was him.

You immediately dialled Hailey's number. You paced around the room as you waited for her answer.

Damn it, Hails, answer my fucking call.

“What's up, bitch?” Hailey's voice rang in your ears, finally picking up after minutes.

“Oh cazzo, Hailey, credo di star parlando con il vero Timothée Chamalet!”

“Wait, what!?” Hailey gasped. “Talk in english for god's sake! You get all squeaky when you get excited, you cunt,”

You rolled your eyes, laughing softly. “Okay, sorry, I got excited!”

“Get to the point, Y/n! Nana wants us to be ready in five minutes for dinner!”

“Okay so,” You giggled, still reeling from what just happened. “The number you sent? I think it's Timothée Chalamet!”

“I understood you the first time, you idiot,” Hailey said, you were sure she rolled her eyes. “What's your proof?” Hailey asked.

“The number I texted sent a photo, which coincidentally, two minutes later Timothée posted the same photo on his instagram account!” You squealed, kicking your feet up in the air.

“Jesus Christ! Send me a screenshot! Omg this is crazy!”

“Yeah, it is! I'll send you a screenshot in a few minutes, I'm gonna text this e number again. You know, to make sure.”

“You better, bitch,” Hailey laughed. “Okay, talk to you later!”

“Later, babes!” You said, before ending the call.

You opened up your iMessage app and started texting Timothée again.

Here you were, stuck in a hotel room, and texting—bullying—Timothée Chalamet.

It was immature, but were literally texting the man you've been worshipping for years.

It was only harmless texting, right? What the hell could possibly go wrong?

@helens3amstuff @gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @lovemelikecrazyiloveyoucrazy @tchalamss @ashlynnmalfoy @crazycat-ladys-blog @michakune @mxltifxnd0m @spencerr3idd @dangelnleif @sthkate @ferrjulie @imnotoverlyobsessive @mel-vaz @elsagreeer @lovely-maryj @meowmeowmau @bobthe-turmpetman29 @saintcosette @ashisabitgay @ladyladybuggg @nyrasunderwrld @remussbitch @jadahxx @starrystormwritings @ell0ra-br3kk3r @dreary-salem @drewsandsebastianswife @greenapplegrass @lilianelena39 @haybellewrites @cloudlst @si4a @ev3ningrain @ttulipwritezz @lilmaymayy @bullets-from-another-dimension @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader @reg-arcturus-black @marina468 @3stelar @timhalamet @st4rf00k3r @idli-dosa @jimins15thhair @blacksgarden

[lainiespicewrites]

The Atreides Era

Part 1

Buried in the sands

A/N: Hey everyone! obviously not my normal content! I've been working on updates on that as well! This is part of a writing Collab with my best friend @hey-its-roseaurum! We've both broken out of our comfort zone writing fics for each other's fave comfort characters. She will be posting about Sherlock so my Henry girlies definitely go check it out! I'll add the link once it's posted!

So I guess without too much warning here is my best effort at a Paul Atreides x OC fic

Summary: Paul Atreides and OC (Matar) and the other Freman are still fighting the Harkonnen in the spice fields. After almost losing his friend in battle Paul makes the decision it's time to go south. It's time to meet with the Emperor. His decisions will change the fate of his friends and the planet of Arakis. Paul knows this. He's seen it. But... at what cost?

Warnings: Description of battle, death, slight angst.

2k words

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s early that much is clear. The sun's intense heat has not yet started pouring over Arrakis, disturbing Matar’s peaceful sleep. What did disturb her was the amateur sand steps of the young man outside her tent. And the sound of his voice calling for her in a harsh whisper. Matar stirred with an agitated grumble, sitting up slowly and blinking her eyes to adjust to the soft light of dawn starting to creep in from the open flap of her tent. 

“What do you want, Paul Atredies?” She groaned. The footsteps outside her tent halted and were followed by a soft chuckle. Crouching down in front of the tent Paul popped his head in sending Matar a cocky grin. 

“Not Usul? Have I managed to offend you again already?” He asks with a raised eyebrow. Matar stares for a moment, watching his face and the loose wave of brown hair that’s fallen into his eyes. Interesting how they’re still so gray, his eyes, as long as he’d now been exposed to spice. Matar blinked the thought away, what did it matter? Paul Atriedies could have glowing red eyes and she’d pay no mind, he was a pest. A pest, who was her friend, one she’d grown fond of. But still a pest. 

“You’ve come to me, Paul Atriedes before the sun is fully awake. This better be important.” Matar answered him, falling back against her pillow. 

Paul was not discouraged by his friend's lack of energy or enthusiasm, crawling into the tent in the corner across from his friend still giving her the same dopey grin.

“How’d you know it was me?” He spoke softly now. His tone was now more gentle and letting Matar awaken properly before he poked at her further. 

“You walk like an elephant, I could hear you coming from miles away,” she answered him. 

“Hmm I suppose I do,” Paul agreed nodding. “Then we need to practice before we go into battle!” Paul's exclamation caused Matar to sit up. Now she was fully awake.

“Battle? What are you speaking of Usul?” The boy's smirk faded. His eyes are more serious now. 

“We got word more of Harkonnen moving in on the spice fields. They’re placing their harvester as we speak. We’ll need to move in on them quickly.”

Putting the moment of banter behind them Matar quickly composed herself. Pulling her hair back she tied her long dark hair into a tight knot. She swept her hand around her tent for a moment and found her head scarf to keep her safe from the day’s intense heat. Taking in a deep breath Matar’s eyes once again settle on the man sitting across from her. 

“Is Chani aware?” She asks. Her voice is smooth and calm. While she had not expected another fight. Or, ambush rather, against the Harkonnen. She was always ready. For those who control the spice control the universe. A mantra the Harkonnen were always chasing.  Neither Matar nor Chani, Matar’s closest friend, would submit to that fate. 

Paul’s eyes shift to the ground as he shakes his head.

“No, I figured it should come from you. She’s one of our most skilled fighters. Chani doesn’t trust me. It has to come from you, Matar.” a breath of silence falls over the two of them. For a moment. Matar thinks to be offended by this. Paul Atreides is only here to use her as a messenger. The thought is gone as quickly as it develops. There is no time for emotion. No time to dwell on the man who has shown up unannounced. 

“I will see her now. Go, gather the others. We’ll need to move before the sun is at its highest point. “ She said.  The man nods. But catches her wrist before she can leave the tent. 

“Matar, I- I’ve seen… something. You in battle and you…” He pauses. They lock eyes. The visions. One of the many reasons Stilgar and the other southerners believe the young Atreiedies is the Messiah. Matar, Chani, and a few of their kind believe it all to be a load of shit. 

However, the fear in his eyes at this moment cannot be ignored. “Please,” He pauses again emphasizing his words. “Be careful out there.” Matar doesn’t say anything. Holding his gaze she nods letting him know she understands whatever he’s seen has frightened him. He lets her go and the two of them leave the tent.  There’s a warm light over their camp. Many of the other Freman have started to gather in a common area. 

Paul and Matar walk in opposite directions. But before Paul is out of earshot Matar stops and calls for him. 

“Usul!” She calls. He turns back to her with a look of concern etched across his face. “Whatever you saw,” she pauses. “My fate is my own to make Paul Atreides,” 

Paul gives her another soft smile. He looks like he did when she first saw him this morning. Innocent, and childlike.  There’s a stirring feeling in her gut.  She has no time to address this. They have a planet to protect. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chani is awake and preparing for the day when Matar finds her. 

“Bit early for you isn’t it?” Chani asks with a smirk. 

“Funny,” Matar recants quickly, “I got a visit from Lisan al Gaib this morning.” Better to get to the point quickly. 

“Don’t tell me you’ve started to buy into this Messiah facade?” Chani questions. Eyeing her friend with a curious expression. Matar scoffs

“Why do I sense you’re already feeling hostile this morning?” Matar says, “Of course, I don’t believe it, I believe what I can see Chani. And what I see is that Paul Atreides has helped us successfully fight against the Harkonnen attacking our spice fields. 

“There’s another harvester?” Chani asks although it’s clear she knows the answer already. 

“He doesn’t believe you you trust him. But I know that you will protect your family.” Matar says. 

“I don’t trust him. But I see what he’s done. And It can’t be ignored. Believe me, I have tried. “ She pauses with a smirk. “And as long as I’m fighting beside you, I’ll always show up for the fight.” 

“Don’t be soft,” Matar teases. Smacking her friend on the shoulder. 

“It’s you who’s gone soft Matar. Don’t get so close to him, his mother can not be trusted. She seeks more power than anyone should hold.” Chani warns

“We are not close, But I believe he could be a good ally, and that woman can burn for all I care. Now come, we’ve got to prepare for an ambush.” She smirks as she and her friend set out to join the other soldiers. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Silence.  Nothing but the sound of the wind stirring the sand. A maua’dib, a small desert mouse, could be heard skittering across the sand dune. Unsuspecting of the unrest that is soon to occur. Matar’s eyes scan over the top of the dune, zeroing in on the harvester only feet away from her and the others. Paul and Chani have, for the time being, come to a truce and have gone undetected underneath the foul piece of machinery. Matar and the others are waiting for their signal. This is when they will move in. 

A loud blast breaks the silence. A shot attacked the Harkonnen craft surveying the harvester and the security. The signal. The others jump to their feet. Stilgar and his men attack the security with daggers. Slicing into them and killing them before the intruders even see the Freman warriors coming. Matar takes a shot at the harvester aiming for one of its claw-like pillars. The blast hits but it quickly gains her attention. She makes quick steps and rolls out of the way as a Harkonnen security tries to land an attack. He misses. This was a fatal mistake for him. Granted he was always going to die. Another Freman soldier stabs the Harkonnen before he can advance any closer. Matar locks eyes with the person and they nod at each other before they continue their battle. She stands, once again aiming for the harvester. This time she aims right in the center. Fuck it. No more time for games. Time to blow this thing up. Taking one last look to be sure her friends will not become casualties she takes the shot. She doesn’t watch it land. Matar is pulled back by another Harkonnen. He has a dagger held to her ribcage. She barely hears the sound of the explosion over her heart pounding in her ears. At least she landed it. One last explosion before the bitter end. She twists to break the hold but the man has a tight grip on her neck. Fuck. 

He lifts the blade ready to plunge it into her chest. And then. He goes limp. His body falls to the sand. Matar sucks in a deep breath. Finally, she turns. Paul’s eyes are wide as they search her for injury. 

“Are you?” He begins. She holds up her hand to stop him. 

“Do not fuss over me, I am not dead,” she tells him. With one last thud. The final Harkonnen is dropped to the ground. Someone, Stilgar likely, calls for the rest of them to gather quickly and evacuate the area. The Freman army and their messiah head back to camp. However, halfway back Paul stops them. 

“Gather your things. This is the last time we fight the Harkonnen like this. Tomorrow, we go south.” He states. Chani and Matar exchange a look. 

“Paul Atreides we cannot…” Chani begins to protest

“I will not continue to watch them abuse this planet. I will not wait for the emperor to make his move. We are going south. And we will take on the emperor.” He states again. 

The rest of the Freman army cheers. Paul Atreides, once again is fulfilling their prophecy. But Matar. Feels like a dagger has been stuck in her side. He once told her, He wished nothing more to be equal to her. But he couldn’t mean that. Not when he was headed south to possess more power than any person should ever wield. 

The Freman army arrived back at camp. Some celebrated. Some dressed wounds from the day's battle. 

“He’s a good fighter, but I knew he could not be trusted,” Chani says absentmindedly. The girls are both watching Paul off in the distance while Stilgar celebrates their success.

“Do you have to be right about everything?” Matar questions. 

“No, just tends to pan out that way,” Her friend says before wandering off to her own tent. Matar sighs finding a seat and taking out her dagger sharpening it with a stone.  After a few moments, she feels a presence and then there is someone sitting beside her. 

“Matar,” Pauls voice speaks. 

“I don’t wish to speak to you Usul,” she says, continuing to sharpen the blade. He ignores her grabbing her wrist and pulling her attention from the dagger. 

“You almost lost your life today.” He says. Matar shrugs. 

“I was protecting my people Paul Atredies, it’s what we do,” she responds. 

“Maybe, but I have lost far too many people I care about. You will not be next Matar.” He says.

“Paul,” Matar begins. 

“Going south, I’ll take control. I can protect you and protect us all once we’ve made an attack against the emperor,” he argues. Matar is stuck. She is angry. She doesn’t want this. She opens her mouth to recant. To tell him he is wrong. Nothing comes out. She pauses again. She’s quiet for a while and then.

“Usul. You told me once. About these…oceans, on your home planet. Describe them again.” She requests. Surprising Paul and herself. 

“Caladan is covered in oceans and water. They are… as blue as your eyes.” He smiles at her. “As deep as them too. There’s no end even as you look at the horizon. They go on forever.” He explains. 

“I still… do not believe you Paul Atreides,” Matar answers, ignoring the growing warmth in her face. 

“You will,” Paul says without thought. 

“We, shall…”

“Lisan al Gaib, Come” Stilgar calls, “There’s much to do before our journey tomorrow. We must prepare!”

Matar lets out I sigh. 

“You’re celebration awaits Paul Atreides.” she says. 

“Matar,” He says softly. 

“I will see you at dawn…Lisan al Gaib.”  a moment of hurt flashes in Paul's eyes but it’s gone before Matar can register it. They both turn and part for the evening.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: This is Part one of ? We're still discussing the terms of this collab LOL

IF you'd like to be added to a tag list for this story please let me know! I know for my followers that read my Henry fics this is a bit different but I hope you enjoyed this too. If you decide to give it a read :) Thank you all. Dont forget to check out @hey-its-roseaurum Sherlock fic!

Tag list:

@enchantedbytomandhenry @summersong69 @carrie80reads @identity2212 @caramariehurst @redheadrouge @warriormirkwood@gummydummy19@deandoesthingstome@shellyshellshell@mary-ann84@starfirewildheart@foxyjwls007

[blondbadbitchp]

Midnight call

Timothée Chalamet x you

Idea: late night sex with your on-off fling

Warnings: smut, on-off relationship, bad language, my english is not the best (i’m sorry), not proof read

Note: guess who's a horny and delusional girl? yeah it's me. Please feel free to leave a comment or feedback. I am not the best writer! Hope some people enjoy and like this!

Forever inspiration for writing fanfiction is @meetmyothersouls

<3 <3 <3

“is it too late to call?” you asked.

“Is it too late to call?” he mimicked your voice sarcastically in an extra high pitched voice. “you wanna kidding me right, y/n?”

You didn’t need to see his face to notice he was angry, his voice was already dark enough to tell. He tried to call you every day for the last 5 days.

You tried to apologize but his mood was already getting on your nerves and got you annoyed. “Listen i’m sorry timmy-

“fuck dont call me that, little bitch”

Calling him was a mistake. Fuck he was so moody. 

“You ghosted me for like the whole week. And you think it’s all fine when you just call out of nowhere?” he pouted.

“okay forget it, i will never call again!" You tried to shut him down, before getting more and more annoyed.

“don't you dare hang up on me now!”

Timothees and your relationship was complicated. You first met him 6 months ago. You could feel the fire since minute one. This fire that always light up when he was near you. Since the first time he touched your lips with his, there was no going back. During the first 2 months you tried to be in a relationship with each other but realized very quickly that this kinda commitment was too much. Both of you were quite busy and a real loving relationship would take too much time and effort. Now you saw each other and fucked from time to time. 

Next thing you heard was your doorbell ringing. You winced as the loud sound echoed through your empty apartment. It was late at night and the street lights were already off. The thought of someone standing in front of your door at this time scared you a little.

“wait a fucking second tim, i need to check the front door” you cut him off.

you walked carefully over to the front door and opened it just a tiny little bit, if you felt scared you could slam your door shut easily. 

Your eyes catched something familiar. Or more precisely someone familiar. There he stands, right in front of your door. In the middle of the night. Your on-off fling Timothée.

You opened the door completely as quick as you could, now staring into his eyes - hated to admit the most beautiful eyes you’ve ever seen. “what the- what are you doing here?”

His eyes stayed on yours as he stepped into your apartment and walked towards you until your back hit the wall behind you. “now you can hang up the call missy.” Without looking away, you turned off your cell phone. Still confused you tried to apologise again: “i already said it - i am sorry i didn’t call earlier”

Before you could apologize one more time, he captured your lips with his in a heated kiss and pressed you more against the wall. You kissed him back while a little whimper left your mouth. There was absolutely no self control that could have held you back. The passion in the way he kissed you told you something you haven't realized yet- he wasn’t just angry, he was horny. You felt his erection pressing against his pants into your body. He was angry because he was horny for you, only wanting to fuck you. 

Timothée pulled away from you and said against your lips “you know what, i understand you don't have to call me everyday, you don't belong to me anymore but remember baby” he paused “this pussy is still mine, especially tonight.” His hand slipped down, finding your already damp panties. He chuckled “looks like i am not the only one who is desperate, let’s go to your bedroom”

Everything about him made you so fucking weak. You were laing on your bed with Timothée hovering over you. Your panties already laying on the floor in the corner of the room. Your hands grabbed his hair while his were under your tshirt on your tits. He played with your nipples, you couldn't hold back your moans. He knew all of your soft spots. An overwhelming feeling overcame you while he rolled your nipples between his thumbs and index finger. 

“please just fuck me Tim!” was the only thing you said between your moans.

Without an answer, he kicked his trousers down his legs and freed his rock hard dick. He grabbed a condom from your side table. You were speechless, his dick was looking even more big today. You had missed the feeling of him inside you.

“put your hand over your head and spread your legs for me” he kissed you again before whispering in your ear “you're such a slut for calling me so late, but you know what? For me it’s never too late to fuck you good.”

While he said the last words, he pushed his dick slowly into your wet desperate pussy. A loud ‘fuuuck’ was the only thing coming from your mouth. your whole body was sweating, your brain was shut down, only his name and the feeling of his dick in your mind. His moans became louder the more he felt how wet and tight you were.. Your kisses were getting more and more passionate while your tongue explored his lips and mouth. His dick was sliding in and out of you with hard long strokes, reaching your sweet spot everytime. You already felt this overwhelming feeling of your appearing orgasm. “Tim i gonna..ahhh.. gonna cum!”, “Me too baby”

With that you screamed his name while the orgasm washed over you and he shot his load into you with a loud moan. After you two came down, he laid next to you, both of you heavy breathing. He looked into your eyes with a smile on his lips. you cuddled up into his arms and whispered “i will call you in a few days again, promise..and for tonight you can sleep here if you want.” 

[chalametsimp]

Photographic Reverie (18+)

Pairings: Timothée Chalamet x Reader

Summary: A harmless home photo shoot turns steamy.

Warnings: smut, this is seriously filthy, ru paul , finger sucking, brief p*ssy eating, unprotected sex.

Word Count: 1,984

Authors Notes: thank u so much bb for this request. I hope you enjoy, my phones about to die and I don’t have my phone so g’night lovelies.

Tag List: @misswestfall

masterlist

“My turn!” He beamed, strutting himself over to you and pulled his own phone out, snapping a photo of you when you threw your hands in the air with a kissy face painted across your lips. He captioned it “my own personal drag superstar.”

“My turn!” He beamed, strutting himself over to you and pulled his own phone out, snapping a photo of you when you threw your hands in the air with a kissy face painted across your lips. He captioned it “my own personal drag superstar.”

While he was distracted this gave you the perfect opportunity to take an off guard photo of him.

“You’re lucky I love you,” he laughed and skipped the song before making his way back over to you and snatched the phone from your hands. “Because I wouldn’t do that for anyone else.” He switched to the camera app and faced it towards you.

“Stop, this wasn’t a part of the deal.” You whined softly, trying to cover the camera with the palm of your hand. But it was too late, he had already taken a few pictures in action. He smiled triumphantly.

“I don’t care,” he huffed, pretending to match your attitude “it’s only fair that I get to take some of you.”

“If you’re going to take pictures of me, make sure you get a good angle. Not everyone is blessed with a perfect jawline.” You rolled your eyes and he shoved your shoulder gently. He hated hearing you say anything bad about yourself in any capacity.

“Shut up.” He pulled you closer by your shirt and pressed a hard kiss to your lips, “if you want a good angle, I’ll show you my favorite.” Timothée mused, now moving a hand under your shirt to outline your nipple with the pad of his finger, you leaned into the touch.

“And what angle may that be?” You asked, leaning into his delicious touch until he was pulling his hand away and walking towards your shared bed, pointing towards it.

“I’ll show you.” he motioned for you to lay down and he waited for you to do so.

You crawled into bed and sprawled yourself out, staring up at him through thick lashes. “Then show me.”

He hovered over you, knees between your legs. You smiled up at him as he pointed the camera directly above you.

He waited a moment, leaving you to wait there, picture-perfect. He trailed his hand up your body until it reached your throat, where he immediately wrapped his fingers around it. He gave your neck a light squeeze and snapped a photo of the gasp that left your mouth when he did so. “Timothéeee, what are you doing?” Another giggle left your lips.

“This is my favorite angle,” he affirmed, now trailing his hand to stroke your cheek before he outlined your lips with his finger, which you happily opened up for, suckling his finger into your mouth. Your eyes glued to his, teasing look in your eyes.

“Is it?” You teased, now taking your turn to pull him down by his shirt, enveloping him into a kiss. He happily obliged, moaning into your mouth. He was already excited from just the image of you from earlier, pretty lips wrapped around his finger. He so wished it was his cock instead.

“Yeah,” he mused “but I could show you some of my other favorites..”

Timothée suddenly flipped you over, steadying your hips in the perfect position for his own selfish needs.

“Yeah?” You sighed out, pressing your pretty cunt against his hardening cock lightly, just enough to annoy him.

“Yeah, and this is one of them.. almost.” his voice trailed off before he pushed your shirt up above your tits, his pupils blowing wide at the sight. “There, now that’s perfect.” To your surprise, he lifted his phone and before you could protest, took a picture of you. Chest exposed and all. “This one is for me..”

As the words left his lips the song changed to Fuckin’ n’ Rollin by Phantastic Ferniture. This song immediately brought memories back for the both of you. The last time you had heard it was when you attended Coachella together. It was the song that sparked a sassafras fueled three hour two-person fuck fest in the middle of the dessert. He had absolutely destroyed you that night inside your tent, leaving you bashful in the morning when you had to face your camp neighbors. You were sure you had kept more than one unfortunate soul up that night. You both shuddered with need at the thought.

He couldn’t help himself but crane his neck up to suck one of your nipples into his warm mouth, tongue swirling around it. His hands moved to grip your ass harshly, “do you remember this song?” He breathed against your breast.

“Yeah.” You sighed, back arching up into his touch.

You sang along to the song, pressing down your hips harder into his “fuckin… and rolling.”

“We could do one of those things..” he mumbled against your skin before he laid back down to relish at the sight of you. The sight he would never grow tired of. He ran his fingers up your stomach and chest until he reached your tits. He grabbed them in his hands, kneading them slowly. He closed his eyes and grinned.

You nodded and before you could even think he was quickly switching positions with you, maneuvering so you were on your stomach, ass high in the air. He knelt down on the bed, grabbing your ass in his warm hands, pressing his face against your clothed heat, breathing in your scent. You were intoxicating for him.

He pressed an opened mouth kiss there and you whined, pressing back against him.

“I could take some more pictures,” he mused, fingers dipping into your shorts to quickly pull them down to just your thighs “for my personal collection.”

You could only whimper in response. The hold he had on you mentally was incredible.

He stayed silent, simply opting to press his thumbs to each side of your lips, spreading them apart to lick a stripe up your clit before he dove in, mouth sucking your already soaked core. “Your pussy is so pretty, baby. How can I not take a picture?” He mumbled against your pussy, tongue rubbing circles.

Timothée didn’t wait for your response, tongue dipping further, licking and suckling. You let out a long, low moan, pushing back against him once again.

“You make it so hard to not just fuck you into the mattress.” He groaned and stood up on his knees, taking a moment to press his hips to yours. “You look so pretty and needy for this dick.”

You looked back at him with a pout, “just do it then?”

He raised an eyebrow at that reaction and quickly pulled both his pants and boxers down, taking his cock out, and rubbed the swollen tip between your slick folds. “Oh fuck. Oh yeah?” He sighed at the relief.

“Please.” you whimpered, wiggling your hips up against the tip of his cock, hoping he would just get on with it.

All at once, he thrusted forward, shoving himself into you entirely, causing a long cry to fall from your lips, “yes, baby.”

What he did next, he knew would annoy you, but he didn’t care. He pulled out his phone and positioned it above your ass, snapping a photo of your pussy wrapped around his thick cock. It was absolutely obscene.

“Timothée what are you doi-“ your sentence was cut short by him gently shoving the back of your head into the mattress and to the both of your shock, you moaned, hips snapping back to meet him. He took another picture, this time one of you positioned face down ass up. The image was of your arched back against him, face shoved against the mattress with his fingers tangled into your hair on the back of your head, cock clearly buried deep in your heat.

“Shh,” he whispered, almost breaking his phone as he threw it somewhere across the room. It would have been funny in any other situation, considering there was no way you could speak up like this anyways, all your demands would be silenced by the mattress anyways.

It’s not like you would’ve said anything anyways because now he was snapping his hips forward in a steady rhythm, fingers still snaked in your locks, head thrown back in pleasure.

“God baby, this pussy feels so fucking good,” he growled quietly, now moving his hands back to grip your hips. He squeezed hard, increasing his pace, “do you have any idea how fucking good this pussy feels?”

You whimpered into the bed, nearly crying out, attempting to shake your head. When he realized you couldn’t speak or move your head because of the sheer pressure of his thrusts, he loosened his grip on your hair and stilled his hips.

“How good?” You mused, now shifting yourself up to rest on your forearms instead of your face, rolling your hips back, fucking yourself against him.

“So g-good,” he moaned, allowing you to have your way with his cock, for now, “especially when you fuck me back, baby, you’re so good.”

You continued your work, relishing in the noises he made while you worked his cock. You loved making him feel good more than anything else.

Eventually he got tired of simply not being in control of your pleasure and he was once again thrusting forward. But this time he propped one leg up so he could get a better angle. “Fuck!” You screamed out at the feeling, hands gripping into the perfectly made bed, so hard your knuckles turned white.

He rocked against your hips desperately and quickly, the sounds that filled the room were filthy. Squelching and skin slicked with sweat slapping together. It only made you all the more worked up. If that was even possible.

“Timothée!” You whined, voice three times higher than your regular octave, his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he groaned loudly. The sounds you made were like honey to his ears. “I’m going to cum, baby, just like that!”

He was happy to obey your command and he didn’t let up on his pace, gripping your hips tightly, fingernails digging into your flesh.

“Yeah, honey? You’re gonna cum all over daddy’s dick?” He said, his voice mixed with a beautiful moan, “you gonna cum with me baby?”

At the sound of his voice you came, pussy tightening violently around him with a long and loud wonton moan and he cried out, “oh god!”

Your body went limp and your body fell deeper into the mattress as he fucked into you hard, his own orgasm following at the feeling of your pleasure.

He came in thick spurts, filling your insides with his seed before his body followed yours, nearly collapsing on top of you. His cock stayed where it was and he wrapped his arms around your middle.

You sighed deeply as he pressed sloppy kiss after kiss after kiss across your left shoulder, an “I love you” tumbling from both of your lips.

You eventually shifted your body, his dick sliding out of your cum filled pussy and you stared up at him with nothing but love in your eyes. “Thanks for fucking me so good.”

“Anytime,” he smiled lazily and fell to the side of you, pulling you into him as he looked over at your alarm clock, “you want to go get something to eat?”

[strawberriescherrieskiwi]

Warmth

Requests:

hi, can i request timothee!willy wonka x reader that is hella touch starved but can't/ doesn't know how to ask for affection? The gender of the reader is absolutely up to you

Have a nice day/night!

-anon🪼

Wordcount: 2.4K+

Masterlist

Description: What is this feeling in his body? What is this desire he has that makes him want to tear his skin off? And are you the cure to make this chocolatier feel whole?

A/N: hey. I was supposed to finish this last night, but life got in the way. Had a lot of fun writing this. They were so cute. I just love adorable little in love Wonka. I most certainly loved writing these two and would return to write more for the librarian and Wonka. Also, thank you for the request.

Warning: Fluffy, kissing, confusedWonka. First love. Sickening sweet lovers. Unedited.

“Willy? Willy? Earth to Willy?” Noddle laughed, waving her hand in front of a love-struck Willy.

As if coming out of a hazy, Willy shook his head and looked toward her, tearing his eyes away from you. “Noddle, when did you get here?” He said with a wide smile.

Noddle laughed again. “I’ve been here trying to get your attention for the last few minutes. You have been bewitched. I see,” she teased.

He flushed bright red, but his eyes still wandered across the library to gaze at you. You were stunning to him. The one thing that was on his mind more than chocolate. You were everything to him. The first thing he thought about in the morning and the last thing at night.

You were sitting on the floor of the library with a group of children surrounding you as you read them a storybook. They were all just as captivated by you as Willy was. You were so expressive when you read, and he wanted nothing more than to be sitting with the children.

“Willy. I am losing you again,” Noddle said, pulling his attention by to her.

“Oh Sorry. Sorry. You know me, my head is always in the clouds,” he chuckled, unable to help himself by taking another keep glance in your direction.

This time you felt his stare and turned to look at him. You smiled softly and waved happily at him. Willy absolutely lit up at your attention and waved back enthusiastically. You giggled blowing him a kiss.

He flushed again and quickly turned away feeling his heartbeat so loudly he couldn’t hear Noddle speaking to him for a few minutes.

“Willy. We are meant to be researching. Not you flirting with your girlfriend,” she said putting a stack of books on the table in front of him.

“She is not my girlfriend,” he said grabbing one of the books and flipping through it. It took all of his willpower to not look up at you again.

“Why not? Have you two not been going on dates for a few weeks now?” Noddle asked curiously.

He frowned. “I don’t know. We have gone out as friends, and I have told her I like her. And I know she likes me, but nothing else.” To be truthful, he had no idea what to do or say around you. You made his heart explode.  He wanted more. He wanted to hold your hand, hug you tightly, and he wanted to kiss you.

He didn’t understand his intense feelings for you. His need to be close to you and his desire to touch you. He often had dreams of the two of you cuddling on the sofa. His hand in your lap and your hands in his hair. Or he dreamed of you two lying in bed together. Legs tangled together and him rubbing his nose against yours.

Willy wrung his hands together just thinking about it. He didn’t know what was wrong with him. Why he felt this emptiness in himself? This dark light that he never even noticed until you came into his life.

“I don’t want to scare her away,” he said, after a few minutes of silence.

“Scare her away? Willy you two are adorable together and I will bet she is just as smitten about you as you are for her.”

“You think so?” he said shyly looking up through his lashes.

Noddle rolled her eyes and bonked him on the head.

“Ouch,” he said rubbing his spot. “What was that for?” He frowned.

“For being dense.”

“Dense? How am I dense?”

“I don’t think you are dense?” Your voice said.

Willy and Noddle looked up to see you standing on the other side of the table they occupied. You smiled softly at them both, looking over their stacks of books. “What are you two working on today?” You asked.

“We are researching a new ingredient for my chocolate. There is this little island not far from here, that is home to this plant called the Covech, and the insides are known for their healing properties. I was thinking about using them in my newest creation.”

“We are trying to figure out which island it is exactly one,” Noddle added.

Your expression fell slightly at the idea of Willy leaving but you were quick to cover it up and smiled at the pair. “Oh, that is exciting. When do you plan to leave?”

Willy saw the slight change in your expression and his heart clenched. “We don’t have a set plan yet. Maybe in the coming week.”

You nodded. “Well, I will leave you two to your research. I have to get ready for another story reading.”

Willy stood up, whimpering slightly. Embarrassingly, he pushed his curls behind his ears. “Umm, I was wondering if you wanted to have dinner with me tonight?”

You turned around and nodded excitedly. “I would love to. I get off work at 7. Do you want to meet sometime after that?”

He nodded just as excitedly. “I can meet you here at 7. We can walk together.”

“Seems like a plan. I will see you then, Willy. Bye, Noddle.”

Noddle waved goodbye and laughed as Willy walked you lovingly. “Oh Willy, you get it bad,” she said.

You waited outside the library with your coat tightly wrapped around you. You had just locked up the library and you bounced on the balls of your feet as you waited for Willy. You grinned widely as you saw him running towards you. A wide goofy smile on his face as he saw you.

Out of breath, he stopped right in front of you. “Have you been waiting long? I’m sorry, Lofty was being particularly difficult tonight. You look beautiful,” he said in one breath.

You laughed. “Lofty is really in a league of his own. I’ve only just locked up. Ready to go?” You said.

He nodded and reached out his hand for a moment before awkwardly dropping it and motioning to go. You couldn’t help but feel a bit disappointed at his action, but you just smiled and walked next to him.

You wanted to be more affectionate with Willy, but you assumed he just liked to take things slow or just didn’t like affection. You didn’t want to push. You liked being around him. He made your heartbeat and your palms sweat.

“So where are we going?” You asked, walking closer to him.

Your hands brushed slightly, and Willy shivered. “I was thinking we could go to the place we went on our first da- time eating,” he stuttered.

“That sounds great.”

At Dinner, Willy could do nothing but mentally keep himself in check. He just wanted to grab your hand and feel your warmth. He felt so hollow without it, but he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. So, he sat with his hands in his lap, his knee bouncing. It hit the table every few minutes causing you to giggle and him to flush.

“Willy?” You started softly. “Is something the matter? You seem on edge. Have I kept you away from your work?” You asked worriedly, placing your hand on his arm.

Willy shivered and melted at your touch. The warmth from your hand spread throughout his body and he sighed happily. He could feel nothing, but you, and he realized that he never felt warmer in his life.

“Willy?”

Shaking his head, he turned his gaze on you. His eyes were wide and filled with affection and happiness. “Do you think we can sit a bit closer? I’m cold,” he said shyly.

You bit your lower lip to keep the smile off your face. “Of course. Of course.” You moved closer to him until your thighs touched his. Willy shivered again and you chuckled taking his hand in yours. You rubbed your hands between his and blew air on his hands.

“Better?” You asked.

His smile split his face open as he nodded happily. “Yes, much better thank you.”

“Any time. And I mean it,” you said.

Willy nodded and squeezed your hand. “I will keep that in mind.”  He paused to look down at your joint hands. “I really like spending time with you. I was wondering if you… Would like to be more than friends with me?” Willy asked looking up from his lashes at you.

“I love spending time with you, Willy. You are my favorite person in the world. I would like to be more than friends with you.”

“Wonderful. Wonderful,” he grinned leaning over and kissing your cheek.

As Willy walked you home you couldn’t help but notice how giddy he was. Well more giddy than he always was. Your heart picked up speed at the thought you were the reason for his happiness. He was truly a light to be around.

You thought you would be too boring for the excitable chocolatier. But from the moment you met, he was fascinated by your job as a librarian. His eyes always lit up when you talked about your day or the children you read to.

Arriving at your door, Willy grinned down at you taking both of your hands in yours. Pink dusted his cheeks, but he didn’t care if it did. If you saw how smitten he was with you. He just felt so light and warm with your hand in his.

“What?” You asked shyly.

Willy's eyes danced with mischief, leaning closer. “Can I tell you a secret?” he whispered.

With a chuckle and a nod, you leaned closer to him. Your noses almost touched, and his breath hit your face with every exhale. “I am great at keeping secrets,” you whispered.

“I have never been happier than I am right now.” He said sincerely. “I feel like I am weightless. Walking on clouds of wonder.”

“Oh. That sounds wonderful. Did you get a new idea while we walked?” You asked.

Willy shook his head, his curls falling in his face. He ducked his head and ghosted his lips over yours. “Don’t you know that is the feeling of being with you.”

Your breath caught and you stared into his eyes. Willy's stare bore back into you. “I very much feel like I walk on clouds when I am with you.”

“Hmm. Do you know the name of that feeling?” He asked, genuinely.

“No, but I quite like it,” you said.

Willy giggled pressing his nose against yours. “I do as well. I am not good with asking for things. For expressing this hunger, this need to be near you to”—he paused to brush his thumb across your cheekbone—“To touch you. I feel… on clouds of cotton candy.”

You kissed you softly then. His hand on your cheek tightens and his other arms wrap around your waist pulling you flush against him. Neither of you deepened the kiss, just enjoying the feeling of your lips pressed against each other. Willy melted against you. His body jumped in excitement, in happiness. And you realized the name for this feeling.

Love.

Pulling away from his lips you sighed happily. Willy's eyes opened slowly and he smiled lazily and contently at you. “I wish to bottle this feeling and bake it into a chocolate for only you and I,” he said dreamily.

“I would love that chocolate best.”

“Love?” He asked, tilting his head to the side.

Reaching up and brushing your hand through his hair you smiled. “Yes, love. Though there is nothing  I don’t love about your chocolate.”

“You are too kind.” He said.

“Everyone loves your chocolate.”

“But everyone isn’t you,” he said, swooping down and kissing you once more.

When he pulled away moments later, you tugged on his curls slightly. “I’ll miss you when you leave for the island.”

“I will hurry back. I’ll be faster than a hare. Faster than a cheetah. I will be back as soon as I can.” He was down thinking about leaving you. Leaving the moment and affection that he was desperately in need of.

“I will greet you with a kiss when you return,” you promised.

His eyes widened and he moved his face close to yours. “Truly?”

“Yes, whenever you want a kiss. I will happily kiss you.”

“Please do,” he begged.

When Willy left you missed him more than you thought. Of course, you would miss him. You loved him, but you felt so cold without him. You knew he was having a great time exploring and he had only been gone for two days, but you missed the man that owned your heart.

Humming a song, you stocked the shelves in the library, lost in your own world. Not aware that the person you were thinking about was standing behind you just taking you in. He was glad to be home. He got the ingredient and he was now able to take his chocolate to another level, but also he got to be with you.

The warm lights in the aisle gave you a breathtaking glow. He could feel the itch of desire spreading through his body. He felt like the moon and you the earth bring him in. In four quick steps, he was standing directly behind you.

Feeling someone close, you turned right to offer your help when you saw Willy. “You’re back,” you said before wrapping your arms around his waist and laying your head on his chest. His hands were quick to wrap around you and lie his cheek on the top of your head.

“I am back. I missed you,” he whispered.

Smiling, you pulled back to stare up at him. “And I missed you. You must tell me all about your trip later.”

“Later?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes, later.” You took his hat and placed it on your own head and grabbed the back of his neck. “Now, I must kiss you.”

His heart thumped against yours and his lips came crashing down onto your own. He moaned softly and you pressed him against the bookcase behind him. Willy smiled against your lips and you mimicked him.

“So, this is love,” he mumbled, breaking the kiss to get air into his lungs. “I want more of it. More of you.”

“I am yours, Willy Wonka.”

“And my soul and very being is yours, my sweet little Marshmallow cloud.”

"Marshmallow cloud?" You chuckled. "I love it."

"And I love you. So very much."

Taglist.

@mel-vaz

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@iloveneilperry

@s-we-e-t-t-ea

@robertpattins0nswh0re

@valencia-rou

@groovyqueer

@tchalamss

@daydreaming-peach

@wandasforyou

@creamsweets

@moon-poe

@rougegenshin

Please let me know if you would like to be added to my tag list. Or if you asked and I forgot, or if your tag doesn't work.

[skyebounded]

Tangled

© Skyebounded, do not use my work, but you may share it.

Masterlist 

premise: There are plenty of things that you admire about your boyfriend, and his hair happens to be a big one.

Pairing: Timothée Chalamet x Fem!Reader 

Warnings: oral (f-receiving) fingering, swearing, Timothée’s hair! . (I think that’s it)

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: Hello Lovelies 💙 I don’t really know what is happening to me, but I saw this pic and a few others, and his hair is just wonderful, and I really just want to tug on it, respectfully.

You could feel his breath fanning across the back of your neck, his arm wrapped lazily around you. He was always so peaceful when he slept, soft sounds falling from his lips. You can’t help but turn yourself just enough to catch a glimpse of his sleeping figure. 

His face is a complete picture of peace as half of his face lays pressed against the white linens. His hair was all tousled, a wild mess atop his head, with an out-of-place few curly strands that framed his face, that was what you loved the most. His hair. Well, not the most, but right now, it was. You couldn’t particularly help the way your mind insisted that you needed to tug on it, to hear the sounds that he would make when you would do just that, nor could you help the new sudden ache that grew between your thighs at the thought of doing it. You always loved the way that it felt tangled through your fingers, the way his eyes would roll back with each tug. You reached out, brushing a few strands out of his face. 

You knew that he wouldn’t mind if you woke him, took what you needed, but you couldn’t, he was far too peaceful, and you didn’t want to ruin that, not yet at least. 

You turn back, trying to be careful not to wake him. You let your fingers graze the skin of your stomach, dancing lightly down towards the band of your panties, your fingers looping around the elastic. You dip them down to your core, your fingers gliding through your soaked folds. A soft gasp escapes your lips, as you press them to your clit. 

You knew nothing felt as good as he would, knowing the amount of pleasure that you received from your own fingers would never measure up to the pleasure he can give you with just his tongue alone. 

Shifting your fingers back and forth against yourself, soft moans at the pleasure it was giving you. Your free hand finds your breast, palming at it the way he does, pinching down on your hardening nipple, the sensation bringing you higher and higher. You needed something to ground you, something to anchor you back to reality, and all you could think of was his hair, that was your tether.

Your eyes flutter shut, thinking about the way your fingers would find refuge in the depths of his curls, pulling on them with every jolt of pleasure that overcame you. Or perhaps the sounds that he would make when you did, all sorts of lewd sounds that would leave his lips. 

Your pace begins to grow, absentmindedly, as your fingers slid into your entrance, grazing that spot inside you. You knew that he could do it so much better, hitting that spot perfectly with his slender fingers. “Fuck” you gasp. 

You feel the mattress shift beneath you, Timothée becoming restless. You stop your movements, intent on not waking him. Once he stills, you continue. Teetering your fingers, whilst working them. 

You feel him closer behind you, grinding his cock into your ass, slowly, lazily. The arm that he had draped around you, moves, his hand sliding down your panties to meet yours. His fingers work in the same movement as your own, putting a sweet pressure on your clit, teasing your entrance. 

His lips brush against your exposed neck, reaching your ear, “Without me, mon amour?” his voice deep, laced with sleep, making your stomach flutter. Your fingers curl into the sheets, as he replaces your small hand with his, your fingers with his, not missing a beat. His hips still rutting into you. Timothée places soft slow kisses along your neck, biting at it, and then smoothing it over with his blessed tongue. You grind your ass, back against him, listening to the way he groans at the friction. 

    “Want to tell me why I find you like this?” he asks. His other arm slips under your frame, sliding up your form to take the place of your own hand. His fingers wrap around your nipple, pinching down hard on it when you don’t respond.

You moan out, his hand kneading your breast. “You” you breathe out. A dark chuckle graces your ears. 

    “Was it the hair? did the hair do it for you?”

You could hear the smile in his tone. He knew your weaknesses, knew that his hair was one of them, this wasn’t your first offense. Heat fills your face, burning your cheeks, you’d been caught. His fingers stop, his form moving to lean over you, letting his eyes meet yours. Hooded and filled with a sense of amusement. His brow knits up, as you try to bury your face in the pillow, avoiding his gaze.

    “Don’t you hide that cute face of yours, I want to see it.” 

It wasn’t lost on you, the mess you looked in the morning, it was nothing compared to the work of art he was. You bring yourself to look at him, a grin on your face, as he winks. 

    “So tell me, mon amour, why didn’t you wake me..?” he smirks. 

He knew what you wanted, all you had to do was tell him. He moves, letting you lie flat on your back. You bring your hand to cup his face, your thumb grazing over his cheek. God was he beautiful. His hair was even more perfect, draped across his face, a disheveled mess. 

    “For that very reason, I didn’t want to wake you..” you respond, a sense of false innocence in your tone. Timothée’s hand traces back up your torso, gliding along your bare skin. 

    “So you figured, you’d do it yourself..?” 

Timothée shakes his head slowly, feigning disappointment. His eyes narrow and his brows draw together. 

    “Yeah..” you say, barely above a whisper. You watch his tongue glide along his bottom lip, and instinctively take yours between your teeth. 

    “I’m disappointed,” he sighs. 

You knew he was just merely teasing, but even so, it still excited you. 

    “I’m sorry baby.” 

Timothée quickly moves to top you, caging you in with his arms. You position your legs to let him rest between, he leans down, pressing a kiss to your lips, one you welcome. Opening your mouth to let his tongue in to collide with yours. His hand comes to cup your breast once more, kneading it in his palm, toying with your nipple. Jolts of pleasure ripple through you at the subtlest of touches. 

He breaks from you, kissing down your jaw and neck, spending extra time tending to each breast, gently sucking your nipple into his mouth with a moan. 

There was nothing more that he liked than early mornings with you. He descends down your body, his lips tracing your skin, every blemish, every detail, pushing the covers off the bed in the process. 

    “I forgive you,” he mumbles between kisses. 

He meets the apex of your thighs, looking down at the soaked fabric that separated your dream from your reality. He loops his slender fingers around the band, and pulls them down, tossed to the floor to be forgotten.

His eyes glazed with a mad sense of lust as he looked down at you, bare and spread out for him, a beautiful sight. He wets his lips, leaning down to place a few more kisses on your stomach, working purple splotches into your waist, knowing that only he would see them.  He loops your legs over his shoulders with a smile, and your head falls back against the pillow, a sinful sound leaves your lips at the feeling of his mouth on you. He licks a stripe up your center, tongue flat, lapping at your entirety, moaning at the slightest taste of you. His eyes meet yours, dark and prudent. He flicks his tongue across your clit, loving the way your body jolts at the sensation. 

Pushing his nose against your clit, rubbing it up and down, as he teases your entrance with his tongue. Your hands find his hair, the one thing that would tether you, sinking your fingers deep into his dark curls. Timothée takes to sucking harshly on your clit, sending your body reeling with tingles of pleasure. 

You look down, in awe at the way he looked between your legs, picture-perfect, one that you would never get used to seeing. His hair was still a beautiful mess, dark curls complementing his fair complexion, begging to be pulled. His eyes glazed over and still tired as they find yours in the chaos of everything, dark and sinful, and yet full of adoration. Your grip tightens on his hair, pulling on it as he brings his tongue to lap, against you, once more.

Your eyes fall shut, as you grind yourself against him, his palm presses firmly against your abdomen, holding you in place, and the gesture sends shivers down your spine. With another tug of his hair, he groans, the vibrations of it radiating right through your core. 

“Fuck,” he mumbles, eyes glued to the way you were coming undone before him. 

His fingers add to the mix, coaxing moans to push past your lips as he curls his fingers just right. Shamelessly, you grasp his hair tighter as you feel yourself nearing the edge. 

    “Oh shit..Timmy-” 

“Come for me, darling, go ahead.” It was the only push you needed, to fall apart at the seams. Utter bliss courses you, as you cling to him, his hair, a quivering mess. He removes his mouth from you, his fingers slowing only to allow you to ride your wave until you collapse, eyes closed reeling in it all. His fingers leave you, aching, longing for more. He moves to hover over you, brushing the hair from your face as your eyes flutter open. He presses a soft kiss to your nose, then to your lips. 

    “Breakfast? For you at least?” He asks with a wink. You give him a playful shove, with a roll of your eyes. He kisses you once more, before climbing off the bed and heading for the kitchen.

[kteezy997]

can i please request a shy bf!timmy with needy and unhinged reader

he‘s just overall really shy, always nervous when he tries to initiate intimacy. reader on the other hand is open about everything, her desire, her masturbation habits and her dirty dirty thoughts. she’s not afraid to let him know the effect he has on her. she’d use it against him, telling him how she‘s going to get herself off when he‘s busy. maybe even nudes, lewd pictures and videos she takes just for him.

Shy Boyfriend-Part One//t.c.

A/N: I’m not going to include specific warnings right now, if you read the anon request, you know that this is filled with smut. It’s quite explicit, so 18+ readers only. Thank you!

Timmy was so sweet, hot, and such a doting boyfriend. But, he was always nervous when it came to sex.

You, on the other hand, wanted it all the time. So, you thought of ways to get him to feel more confident. You wanted him to know that you desired him madly and thought about him day and night. You wanted to do all the dirty things with him. You decided to be completely open and honest with him about your sexual aptitudes.

"I masturbate every day thinking about you." you told him quietly at dinner one night.

Timmy's eyes nearly popped out of his skull, and he looked around, hopeful that no one else in the rather crowded restaurant didn't hear what you had said. "Re-really?" he squeaked.

"Yeah, sometimes multiple times a day." you leaned forward, your elbows on the table, your cleavage in plain view for him. "Sometimes I do it while on breaks at work."

"Jesus." his eyes meandered down to your tits. "You're serious?" he asked, returning his gaze to your eyes.

"Of course. I never lie to you, Timothee." You leaned back in your chair, and picked up your glass of champagne, taking a sip. "I wish this was your cum." you said, raising the glass to him.

Your waitress came over just then, hearing what you had to say. Timmy let out a fake cough to distract from your dirty words.

The waitress set down your plates, not saying anything, but you did get to exchange a knowing, mischievous look with her. You watched as she eyed your handsome boyfriend. Timmy was the type of beauty that made people look at him a little longer than usual. You couldn't blame the girl as she scanned him up and down in passing.

You often wondered if Timmy actually knew how others found him so desirable. It was kind of hot how oblivious he acted to extra attention and kindness he got from people he didn't even know. Everyone loved him, women, men, young, old, it didn't matter. Even now you caught some of the fellow diners in the restaurant cutting their eyes at him.

The next day was long and boring as Timmy was at work for like 16 hours straight. You knew that work was important to him, of course, but you missed your man. You found yourself scrolling through your camera roll, which consisted almost exclusively of Timmy pictures.

Some photos were innocent selfies of your two together, some were candid shots you took because you couldn't resist. Then there were the NSFW ones that he and you both took during sex. You flipped through them, getting turned on looking at him naked. His skin was light, smooth, and beautiful, his hair a mess, his lips curved into a cheeky grin in one instance.

You came across a video of him fucking you doggystyle. It was your favorite position, so he fucked you that way often. You could hear his soft moans, his heavy breathing, and you could see the little beads of sweat on his hairline as he pushed his curls out of his face. Your pussy started to ache and throb the more you delved into the album.

You needed to talk to him; you needed him to know what he was doing to you. He didn’t even need to be near you to drive you crazy.

You decided to text him to start out: I've been thinking about you

aw, I've been thinking about you too. He replied a few minutes later.

I can't stop thinking about last night, baby. The nipple you bit still hurts. Did you know you left a mark? You smirked, thinking that definitely should get him flustered.

Oh?

yeah, wanna see?

yes. his response was quick on that one.

You giggled, and tugged the front of your top down, letting your boob plop out. You weren't lying, his teeth had marked the circumference of your nipple. You snapped a photo and sent it to him.

Fuck. his response was simple.

Will you kiss it when you get home, to make it feel better?

You could just picture him trying to keep his cool while opening the text at work. His throat drying, trying to swallow, biting his lip as he looked around to make sure no one else could see the photo you sent. You imagined him getting hard, but having to tuck his cock into his belt so his boner wouldn't show.

yes.

I want you to suck them for me, will you do that?

of course. he sent back, immediately.

You wanted to take it up a notch. You had to be bolder. I want you to send me a photo of your dick.

no way, baby, I can't do that.

You were quite disappointed, but horny, so you had to work harder for what you wanted. you sent him pouty face emojis and texted: but why?

because I'm at work, silly girl. you'll see me later. I promise I'll take care of you and make up for biting too hard.

His promise turned you on even more. How dare he! You were feeling especially bratty and needy, so you responded: no! I want to see your cock now

baby, I told you I can't. I'm working, princess.

You loved how endearing he was and how he used little pet names for you. But you were getting frustrated.

fine, but maybe I can send something to get you change your mind?

something… like what?

You proceeded to leaving your boyfriend hanging for a while. You removed all of your clothes, set up your phone to frame the scene perfectly, and spread your legs for the camera. You were soaking wet already, and your fingers glided along your pussy easily.

"Mm, Timmy." you purred his name, imagining his fingers were in place of yours. You used your fingertips to rub your swelling clit. The wet sounds pierced your ear drums and you knew that they would be audible through the video you were recording.

You palmed your breasts, cried his name again, and pinched your nipples. "I want you to fuck me, baby. Please, please, give me that big cock. I need it." you whimpered. You spread your labia with one hand and with the other, you tapped your clit. You giggled at the feeling.

With both hands, you stimulated your clit, and pushed a finger into your hole. "Ughhh." you moaned. You leaned your head back, licking your lips. Your fingers were no match for Timmy's cock, but it was the best you were going to get right now.

You picked up the pace, fingering yourself harder and faster. You moaned and whimpered his name over and over. You pumped your fingers as fast as you could, and you trembled, your body shaking as you came. You panted softly as you came down from the high, and you grinned at the camera.

You sent the video to Timmy, and you felt much better after an orgasm. You were able to relax and watch some TV as you waited for him to respond.

It was maybe an hour later, and you received a video from Timmy.

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @bitchyunknownuser @lixzey @kpopgirlbtssvt @ducktapebar

[bonesandchalamet]

‘O Christmas tree — t. chalamet

masterlist | pairing: Timothee chalamet x reader

summary: Timothee is gone a lot for wonka and you’re work distracts you from decorating until someone comes on home…

warnings: fluff

with wonka promotions and interviews, he’s not had time to think about Christmas. with nothing but chocolate, singing, and dancing on his mind the holidays have slipped by him once again.

it’s not too late, overnight shipping exists and stores still have great deals, but nothing screams to him.

so he’s back to square one: promoting wonka, talking about the works of dune, and hopping on another plane. the cycle continues while you FaceTime occasionally from your cold desk in New York.

“busiest time of year.” he says shaking the snow off his jacket and boots. he’d just landed for the good morning America segment, and the only place he could tell the cab driver to take him was here: your home.

“it’s always busy in New York, chalamet. you’ve been gone for that long you forgot?” you spin around in your work chair to see him standing by the door, a tree slung over his shoulders, and a box of lights in his other hand.

“is that a real tree?” in slight shock you ask the dumb question. its wrapped up in a net and the smell of fresh pine over takes your apartment.

so you’ve also been a bit busy. having not had time to decorate with monthly work quotas and yearly ends to meet, the fake tree never got set up and the stockings never got laid over the fake fireplace.

“do you want to decorate?”

“no more talk of chocolates?” you ask give him a quizzical look that earns a light laughter to escape his lips, “no more talk of chocolates.”

“you set up the tree, I’ll get the ornaments.”

[babyflorencee]

Hair dye

Timothée Chalamet x fem!Reader

"Tim, you have to sit still, unless you want to look like Oscar the grouch." I teased, carefully applying more blue hair dye to my boyfriend Timothée's now blond curls.

With less than a week before he had to return to film his latest movie in LA, Tim arrived home two days ago with a list of tasks he needed to complete, including the need for blue hair.

Nerves fluttered within me when he first mentioned dyeing his hair. Since it had been five years since I last experimented with hair dye at the age of 16. And the last thing I wanted to do was to jeopardize his appearance and disrupt the film schedule.

"Are you almost done?" he whined, growing bored.

"Just about, you just have to sit with this in for an hour then rinse it out." I replied painting the last bit of his bleached blond hair.

"Done," I announced, watching as he eagerly grabbed his phone to catch a glimpse of his new hair. His eyes widened in a mixture of shock and distaste, causing a chuckle from me.

"You're dashing, baby," I teased, causing him to roll his eyes.

I retrieved a hair cap from the table to contain the dye and returned to Tim. "Do you still love me, even though I look hideous?" he pouted, turning to face me.

"My love, I hate to break it to you, but I never loved you," I teased, prompting a shocked expression from him before he enveloped me in a hug from behind.

"You really don't love me?" He said pouting in disappointment. "Because I love you," he declared, showering kisses along my shoulder and neck, knowing full well I was ticklish there.

"I love you too, Timmy," I responded, turning around to face him, and immediately he ducked his head down and pulled me into a kiss. What started as just an innocent kiss now turned into a make out session. His lips travelled to my neck, gently sucking on the skin. He was planting sloppy kisses on my collarbone making his way up to my neck. Suddenly, the timer interrupted, eliciting a groan from Tim.

"Well, thats your cue," I remarked, stealing a quick kiss before retreating to wash my hands.

As I turned on the faucet, Tim's voice echoed from the bathroom doorway, "Don't forget the soap! I can't go back to filming with blue handprints all over my body!"

I chuckled, shaking my head. "Oh, believe me, Tim, that won't be a problem!"