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ashers1997 · 3 months

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Euphorics

Warning this is a 18+ story with smut! No minors!!!

I laughed as I brought the glass to my lips while watching my friends Alexis and Marissa dance. We were at our favorite club, The Euphorics Lounge and Bar, and the night had only just begun. Along with Alexis, Marissa, and I being there, another friend, Miguel, worked at the bar. We could all talk and have a good time together, and also Miguel could give us discounts as a courtesy of the bar. Furthermore, given that we all preferred cheap vodka or tequila over wine and bourbon, our nights were pretty cheap drink-wise. However, even though the drinks are cheap, these nights can get "expensive" in a certain sense. Euphorics is a strip club/bar, and it is incredibly easy to drop hundreds of dollars there without even noticing. However, regardless of the prices, the bar in and of itself is a good time. I often stay near the bar, talking to Miguel while Alexis and Marrisa have fun on the dance floor and near the stage. While I admired strippers, and I always tipped while I was there, I never went out of my way to interact with them.

"Do you want to join us, y/n!?" Marissa yelled over the music, and I just laughed and shook my head. I loved watching them have fun, but I preferred to stand afar and watch while I drank or smoked.

She shrugged and continued to dance before pointing towards the stage and mouthing something to Alexis. I heard Alexis say, "Have fun!" before she walked over to me.

"She's going to get closer to watch her favorite." She said while laughing, and I laughed too. There was one stripper named Jackson that she adored. And, in all fairness, Jackson was a fan of Marissa, too. He always went out of his way to show her attention when they were both at the club. While there was a general liking, there was also explicit knowledge that part of the connection was transactional.

I smiled and shook my head as I watched them flirt near the stage. "I swear those two need to get together somehow."

"I know. Either get together or get a room." As we laughed, I saw Alexis's eyes drifting to one of her favorite strippers.

"Are you going to go say hi to Marcus or just continue to eye fuck him?"

"Oh, hush." She said, lightly slapping my arm. "I'm going to go over in a minute. I just need to get my cash."

Since I was seen as "the responsible one," I often looked over their bags on a night out. I didn't guard them or keep them from using their money; Miguel and I just kept them near the bar so we could make sure nobody stole them.

"Alright, well, you have fun with Marcus. I'll be here." I say as I light up a cigarette and take a long inhale.

She smiled and grabbed her cash before walking over.

"Is she putting the cash between her…yup she is," I murmur to myself, laughing as I exhale a puff of smoke. Whenever she gave Marcus cash, she only did it one way. She would take a twenty put, the bill between her breasts, and have him take it from there. It made me laugh every time and seemed amusing for both her and Marcus. It was their little game that they played every time.

As my eyes drifted away from Alexis, I watched the other dancers. They interacted with customers on the floor or from the stage during this time. Sometimes they did pole tricks, but those were typically saved for the main show. As I watched, I noticed that there was a stripper who I didn't recognize.

He was pretty. He had dark curly hair that fell over his eyes, a lean, slender frame, pale skin, and an infectious smile. I tilted my head and called to Miguel.

"Hey, who's the new guy on stage?"

"Oh, that's Timothée. He's actually been here for roughly a month. He doesn't typically work Saturdays. He's really popular, too."

"Well, I'm not surprised. He's pretty."

"Yeah, looks like you've caught his attention too."

"What-" I turned back towards the stage and saw him staring…in my direction.

"He just happened to be looking this way, man. Doubt he was staring at me."

"Sure, y/n. If you want to think that."

I was about to ask what the hell that meant when Alexis bounced back over to us.

"Did you see me and Marcus?"

"Yes, I did. I see that gag has never gotten old."

"Nope, he loves it. Oh yeah, by the way, who was the guy on stage staring at you?"

"He wasn't staring at me."

"Yes, he was y/n. His name is Timothée, by the way." Miguel said to Alexis with a smirk, and I rolled my eyes. It wouldn't be the first time that anyone from our group tried to set me up with someone on a date. Or set me up to interact with one of the strippers.

"No. He wasn't."

"I think he was."

"Well, you think wrong," I said with a laugh. "By the way, can I get a refill?"

"Absolutely." He said as he made another vodka soda for me and slid it over. I took a gulp and looked back towards the stage, immediately noticing that Timothée had disappeared.

"Besides, what was it for even if he was looking at me? Plenty of other people here are a thousand times more attractive than I am."

"Um, y/n, I think he was looking at you," Alexis said while laughing and looking past me to my right.

"Oh yeah? And what makes you say that-" I was cut off as someone suddenly stood in front of me and, wouldn't you know it? It was Timothée. He had placed his arms on either side of me, trapping me in so I couldn't run away, which I desperately wanted to do now.

"I can confirm I was looking at you. What are you drinking, by the way?" Timothée asked before he took my drink out of my hand and took a sip.

"Mmm, vodka soda. A nice classic." He put the drink back in my hand, and I stared at him incredulously momentarily. He was even more attractive up close. And whatever cologne he had was the perfect mixture of muskiness and sweetness. As I stared, he smirked at me, and I realized he knew what he was doing. He was just the type to enjoy fucking with someone and making them flustered.

As I came to my senses, I reached into my pocket, pulled out a twenty-dollar bill, and held it in front of me.

"Oh, I won't take it from you that way."

"Why not? It's a perfectly good bill. Do you want more?" I say, completely willing to give more but unsure.

"I said I'm not going to take it that way, never said I wouldn't take it." I stared at him blankly before asking the obvious question, "Well, how will you take it?"

He smirked and murmured in a low voice, "Put it in between your teeth."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. Put. It. Between. Your. Teeth." I stared back in disbelief. As much as I wanted to believe he wasn't being serious, I could tell that, unbelievably, he was. I let out a sharp laugh.

"You're kidding."

"I'm so sorry to disappoint you, Pretty Thing, but I'm not. Put it between your teeth, and I'll take it."

"Pretty Thing? You're giving me nicknames now?"

"Is there something wrong with it? I'm only calling you Pretty Thing because you are, and I don't know your name."

"My name is y/n. And if I'm a Pretty Thing, then you're a fucking tease."

"Oh, I know I am, darling. Now, will you give me that money properly and how I want it or not?" I wanted to shove the money back in my pocket, but part of me also wanted so desperately to see what he would do. So, unbelievingly, I brought the bill to my mouth and bit down with my teeth, smirking at him as if to say, "Try me." And try me, he did. He leaned forward and bit down on the other side of the bill with his teeth. I was in so much shock that I let go. He laughed as he leaned back, finally setting me free from the cage that was his arms.

He took the bill out of his mouth and looked at it before placing a kiss on it.

"This bill is incredibly special to me now. Tell me, are you doing anything after the show?"

"Going home." I practically spit out through gritted teeth. I was still in complete shock at what had just happened and utterly embarrassed.

"Well…" He said, reaching around me and grabbing a napkin and a pen from the bar. "Why don't you meet me after the show backstage, hm? Hand this to the bouncer, and he'll let you in."

He handed me the napkin, and on it was a small note that said "Meet me backstage," some numbers and his signature.

"I look forward to seeing you, my Pretty Thing." He said, gripping my chin before he walked away, waving the money a bit to remind me of what had just happened.

"What the fuck was that?"

"I have no idea, but I think he likes you," Alexis said while half laughing, clearly in shock.

"Miguel, what is this, by the way?" I ask, showing him the letter I was handed.

"Oh damn, he really likes you," Miguel said, reading the note while he cleaned a glass.

"Why is that?"

"Well, this is basically an invitation to either just hang out backstage or fuck. Could go either way depending on what you want."

"You have got to be kidding me."

"Hey, take it as a compliment. He's clearly attracted to you."

I rolled my eyes and shoved the napkin into my pocket, trying to forget everything that just happened.

"You're not going to use it?" Alexis asked, surprised.

"Why the fuck would I?"

"Because it would be a good time, in my opinion."

"Yeah, I don't think so."

"Well, regardless of your decision, I want to watch the show right now. If we leave tonight without you seeing him backstage, I at least want to leave on a fun note."

"I will not meet him backstage, but I will watch the floor show with you," I say, handing my glass back to Miguel and nodding at him for another refill. I took out another cigarette and lit it up. I discarded the other one in an ashtray during the exchange with Timothée and decided to light another.

"Yay!" Alexis exclaimed. "Let's go up front." She started off without me as I grabbed my drink, and my mouth opened.

"Up front? You have got to be kidding me." I followed her to the front, looking ahead at the stage and realizing that where we were about to sit would be incredibly close to the stage and even worse off. Close to Timothée.

As we sat down at a table, I looked up at the stage and watched as all of the strippers got into place. Timothée was positioned roughly in front of me, and I was doing everything I could not to stare at him. I hadn't really noticed his outfit before due to shock, but now I had noticed it. He wore tight black pants, black sneakers made for the stage, and a loose silky black button-up. He had also left the top few buttons undone to expose his skin. I had to admit he looked amazing, but I also wanted to ignore how good he looked. I knew the more I looked at him, the more pleased he would be with how flustered he made me.

As the lights dimmed, I heard the song "S/M" by Rhianna come on, and to say I wasn't surprised would be an understatement. An entire song about sadomasochism in a strip club? Yeah, that's to be expected.

All of the strippers began their routine, and I admired how they twisted and turned their bodies. While most of the moves invoked similar moves with grinding and sex, there was a certain elegance to what they were doing that appealed to me. As the song continued, a couple of the guys moved to the floor and started interacting with crowd members. I turned to Alexis, who was eagerly looking over towards Marcus.

"Hey, do you know if Timothée typically goes down to the floor?" I asked over the music.

"I haven't heard anything about him doing that, but maybe?" She turned her attention back to Marcus, and I turned my gaze to the stage. I let out a small sigh of relief as I saw that Timothée appeared to be staying up there. Perhaps he didn't do floor work, which would honestly be a miracle. But just as I was relaxing, he suddenly ran to the edge and jumped off. A bunch of cries from girls erupted from the crowd, all attempting to grasp his attention and pull him towards them. I saw him look around and start walking towards a group of girls, and I let out a small sigh of relief. Even if he was down on the floor, maybe he would pay attention to the other customers.

As I turned my attention towards that direction, he suddenly spun around and made eye contact with me.

"Shit," I mumbled to myself. He walked over to me in this stalking motion. Almost as if he were a predator catching his prey. That's what I currently felt like his prey. He walked over and then circled around my chair. I avoided eye contact as much as I could, but then, as I was looking down, Timothée suddenly sat in my lap. He gripped my chin, forcing me to look at him. Oh my gosh. This fucker was smirking at me, smirking.

"I think I want to play with you, Pretty Thing." I felt like my eyes were locked on his. It was like I couldn't look away at how captivating his eyes were. They were a sparkling green, and with his accompanying dark and grungy eye makeup, they looked even brighter. His eyes were also incredibly seducing in and of themselves. He kept his eyelids low to make him enticing, and as much as I hated to admit it…it worked.

I heard "S/M" reaching its crescendo in the background, but everything sounded muffled. I was too distracted by how Timothée was still gripping my chin, how our eyes were locked, and how he was grinding on me with so much force and desperation.

He let out a low chuckle as I glared at him. I knew that despite my glaring, he could tell that at least part of me felt good. Somehow, despite how enveloped I was in him, I could reach into my pocket and pull out another twenty-dollar bill. He looked down at it and then back at me.

"You know I won't take it that way Pretty Thing, give it to me properly." My glare darkened as I reluctantly put the bill between my teeth. I could barely maintain eye contact with Timothée as he leaned in, pushing my chin up slightly before biting the other side of the bill. He winked at me as my teeth released the bill, and his hand released my chin. He stood up and walked away with all the other dancers as the song ended.

They finished the dance by jutting their hips in the air, and suddenly, the lights all lowered again. The crowd cheered, and some screamed, but my ears were ringing. Part of me wanted to be mad, and part of me wanted to enjoy how undeniably sexy that was.

I stayed seated until the lights came back on. I looked down at my drink and then suddenly gulped down what was left before looking at Alexis. She smiled at me, and I just gave her a "Really?" kind of stare.

"Oh, come on. You cannot look at me and tell me that what he did to you wasn't hot."

"I can actually."

"Oh my god." She said with an exasperated sigh. Despite her sigh, she smiled. "You need to learn to enjoy yourself."

"I'll enjoy myself when I'm not being relentlessly teased by a stripper who calls me 'Pretty Thing.'"

"You know most people would be incredibly jealous of you and would love to take your spot."

I rolled my eyes with a smile as we both got up from the table and walked back to the bar. The club was going to be closing soon. I hadn't even realized how late it was until I looked at the clock. It was already 1:00 in the morning. I was grateful I worked from home because tomorrow would be a rough day. I was praying I had Gatorade or PediaLite in the fridge.

"Alright, guys, come close out your tabs!" Miguel yelled out. I walked over and put my card down, and so did Alexis. Marissa was walking over as well and quickly put hers down. I wasn't much of a drinker, so my tab total came to about $35, and plus the two twenties I had given, I had spent roughly $75. Honestly, that was how much I spent on longer night excursions such as these, and I was pleased. Alexis and Marissa had spent somewhere near $100 each, but they drank a lot more than I did. It seemed cheap, but the drinks we got were the cheapest on the menu and the lowest quality. The club often made its money from the few high rollers who came in buying expensive bourbon and lap dances all night.

"Dang, I spent that much?" Marissa asked, shaking her head.

"Don't worry, girlie, I feel you," Alexis added, looking at her bill.

"I wasn't too bad tonight."

"You never are, y/n. This is why we call you the responsible one." Marissa said with a sigh. "Oh yeah, I saw you get that lap dance during the show. Pretty hot, huh."

I let out an exasperated sigh and shook my head. Alexis gave me a light shove with a laugh before letting Marissa know what had happened earlier.

"Oh my god, that's amazing. You're going to see him, right?"

"And why would I do that, Mari?"

"At least give it a shot. I think it could be good for you!" I stared at her as she shrugged with a smile and walked over to get her stuff with Alexis. I turned to Miguel, hoping to find some sane advice, only to be met with his knowing smirk. He could see that I was at least somewhat attracted to Timothée and what he did, and he could also see my bubbling curiosity about what would happen backstage.

"You know what I'm going to say to you, man." He said, cleaning some glasses while he spoke to me. I looked at him, Alexis, and Marissa, and finally down at my pocket. I pulled the napkin out and then turned to face where the back was. Did I want to do this? Did I want to see what Timothée wanted with me?

"Do it, y/n. You know you'll regret it if you don't." Alexis said knowingly. I wanted to walk out, to shove the napkin back in my pocket to somehow prove them wrong, but I just couldn't.

"Alright, I'll do it, but nothing is going to happen," I said while looking back at them before walking over to the stage doors. I reached the bouncer and handed him the letter.

"I was told to give this to you," I said, feeling my cheeks flush with embarrassment. The bouncer looked at the note, smiled, and opened the door.

"He's the only one with a room on this side. Door will be to your right." I nodded and walked in, looking behind me one last time at my friends cheering me on. What the hell was I walking into?

I shook my head as I wandered down a hallway and found Timothée's door. I took a deep breath and slowly opened it. I stepped in and saw Timothée sitting on the bed, smoking a cigarette and staring at the ceiling. However, once I stepped in, he quickly tilted his head and looked over at me. He immediately got a massive grin on his face and hopped off his bed and over to me.

"You decided to come, Pretty Thing."

"Yeah, well, I got curious," I said, brushing past him and trying to keep my cool as I sat on the bed and leaned back against the wall. I looked around the room and saw that it was fairly simple. He had LED lights that were, unsurprisingly, red, a small vanity, and some clothes. I could see some shiny objects in his closet but couldn't tell what they were. On the bed next to me also lay a pack of cigarettes. I picked it up and looked at him.

"Can I have one?"

"Use this one instead." He said in a low voice, walking over to me and handing me his own. I took the cigarette from his fingers, finding it difficult to maintain eye contact with him. I brought it to my lips and inhaled, breaking eye contact as I did to watch the smoke.

"Thanks," I murmured in a soft voice.

"Of course, my Pretty Thing." My eyes shot back up at him, and I suddenly sat up straight.

"Why did you want me back here? You don't even know me."

"No, but I would like to know you." He said with a knowing smirk.

"You just love fucking with me, huh?"

"Personally, I would prefer to fuck you, but…sure." I opened and closed my mouth in disbelief. No one had ever been that bold with me before. I didn't even know what to say. I leaned back again and took another long inhale.

"Something wrong? Has no one ever told you that they wanted to fuck you before?"

"No. And even if they did say that, typically they would start with 'Let's go out on a date.'"

"I'm sorry I didn't take you out on a date tonight. I'll gladly take you on one this week, though. I was just impatient and wanted to be with you."

"Oh, is that why you grinded on me earlier, made me give you money with my teeth, and eye fucked me?" I asked with a slight venom in my voice. I wanted to come across as unbothered, but my mask was slipping.

He looked at me before walking towards me again like he had earlier. Like I was his prey, and he was stalking me before he pounced. I watched as he slowly walked to the bed, got on, and then leaned over me, trapping me with his arms.

"You loved everything I did to you, though, did you not?" I opened and closed my mouth, unable to find the words I wanted to say.

He reached down, plucked the cigarette from my hand, and inhaled before holding it out to me.

"Go on. Take a puff." I reached to take it, but he pulled back.

"Ah, ah, ah. I said take a puff. Not take it from my hand to take a puff." I let out a low sigh, leaned forward, and took a long draw.

"That's my Pretty Thing. Tell me, have you exchanged smoke before?" I nodded. I had exchanged smoke once. Alexis had wanted to try it, so I taught her. It was when one person took a hit of something and basically "fed" it to the other person through a kiss.

"Will you indulge me, please?" He asked, looking at me with those seductive yet challenging eyes. I looked at him, looked at the cigarette, and then back at him.

"Try me, you tease," I said in a low voice. Timothée let out a low chuckle and then reached down. He gripped my chin with his right hand as he took a long draw from the cigarette. I watched as he leaned in, and I closed my eyes. It wasn't that I didn't want to look. It was that I didn't know how to look at this man whom I had just met while we basically made out to exchange cigarette smoke.

I opened my mouth slightly as our lips met and inhaled deeply. I heard a small sigh escape past my lips as I exhaled and felt my cheeks get red with embarrassment immediately. I finally opened my eyes and looked up at Timothée. I saw he was smirking again.

"That was a cute noise, Pretty Thing. I hope I can draw some more out of you."

"Fat chance." I spit out as I watched him put the cigarette in an ashtray.

"Oh, don't lie to me. You fucking loved that. You love what I do to you." I wanted to deny it, tell him he was delusional, but I couldn't. I did love it. And I hated that I loved it.

"Tell me, do you love it because you're simply enjoying the indulgence, or is it that no one has ever given you this kind of attention before." I looked away and didn't answer. He was still leaning over me, I was still embarrassed from my sigh, and I felt so overwhelmed with everything.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see him lean in, and then, as he spoke, I felt his hot breath ghost over my ear.

"Let me give you that attention you deserve. Let me make you feel good." I turned back and sat up again, wondering if I could bolt out of his arms.

"And how do you plan to do that? Hm? You've only just met me, you know."

"I know. And you know you're in my room at a strip club, right? Take a guess as to what I want to do to you."

"You're insane."

"And you fucking love it. Now are you going to let me please you Pretty Thing or no?" I felt myself sinking into the bed; it was like I wanted to say no because I knew better, but this other part of me adored how desired I felt that I just wanted to give in. I wanted to kiss him, let him show me how well he could touch and pleasure me. I wanted to feel his lips and hands all over my body. I wanted to feel just how badly he wanted me.

I looked up at him, feeling any of my ability to fight back slip away as I said, "Please, Timothée…" And that was all he needed to hear.

He leaned in and kissed me deeply, parting my lips with his tongue as his hands worked their way underneath my shirt so he could feel my skin.

"Fuck you're lips are so soft…" He mumbled in a low voice as he continued to kiss me.

I reached up and tangled my fingers in his hair, loving their texture. I continued to kiss him as I grinded my hips back against his, somehow hoping that this could serve as a payback for earlier. And, in a way, it did. I heard Timothée let out a low moan as he jutted his hips back and gripped my waist tightly.

"Who's the tease now?" He asked as he bit down on my lip, causing me to let out a quiet moan.

"That's it. Sing to me with those moans."

We slowly maneuvered our way on the bed so we were lying down with him on top and me underneath. I rolled my hips against his and whimpered as I felt his hands start to pull at my jeans.

"What are you doing?" I gasped out in between kisses.

"I want to taste you." He said in a low voice.

"We were both just in a bar with a bunch of people that feel like it's a million degrees. I probably was sweating." I say, gasping between breaths as I pull back.

"And? I was just dancing a while ago."

"I don't even know if it's properly shaved. You don't have to"

"First off, I want to and once again: and? Why would I care if you were or weren't properly shaved?" He asked while looking at me in a completely confused manner. I looked down, slightly ashamed.

"Has no one ever…ate you out before?" I shook my head no.

"My last partner had said that was disgusting and never did, so I just assumed no one would ever do that."

"Well, respectfully, you're last partner was a fool to pass up on that opportunity." I couldn't make eye contact with Timothée and kept looking down until he reached up and grabbed my chin.

"Hey, I promise you I will love it. If you take care of yourself and keep yourself clean, it will taste heavenly, and I can already tell you to do both. Please…let me indulge you." I stared back at Timothée and slowly nodded. I wanted to know what it felt like to experience that, and I would be lying if I didn't admit that having someone as skilled as Timothée eating me out seemed divine.

"Good toy." He mumbled as he moved his hand from my chin to my throat and wrapped it around me. The vibes had just completely shifted, and I loved every fucking second.

"Lean back, Pretty Thing." He said softly as he pushed against my throat slightly. I leaned back as he let go and just stared at the ceiling while I heard him unbuckling my pants. Never in my life had I expected to be eaten out by a stripper I had just met. I was about to tell Timothée one last time that he didn't have to do it if he didn't want to, when my voice suddenly caught in my throat. Just as I was about to tell him that, I felt something hot and wet lick a strip up my slit. The only thing that escaped from my throat was a long groan as my eyes rolled back into my head and fluttered shut.

"That's it, pretty thing." He mumbled, his voice slightly muffled and distorted, and he continued to lick up my slit. "Give those moans to me…fuck you taste good." He licked up my slit one more time before pushing his tongue past my outer labia and in deep. I let out another moan as my hands gripped the sheets and my hips rolled up.

"Mmm…grind on my face baby…come on, give me your delicious cum." He moaned against me before he went silent and started only eating me out. My hands frantically found his head, and I weaved my fingers in his hair, gripping lightly as I moaned. I gently pushed on his head, making him start to eat me out faster while my hips continued to roll against his face.

"Fuckkk…" I moaned out. I had never known that someone eating me out could feel so heavenly. Dear god, I didn't want it to end. As he continued to lick my pussy lips, I felt something slowly slide inside of me and start pumping in and out. He had slid a single finger inside while he continued to lick, suck, and kiss my pussy. Quickly, I had turned into a shaking and moaning mess underneath him.

I felt an unexpected pressure then and let out a small "Fuck Timothée." as my back arched. He had slid another finger inside of me while he had started sucking and kitten-licking my clit. His tongue was so incredibly skilled and fast that I could feel myself unraveling. No one had ever made me feel this good before; hell, even I had never made myself feel this good.

I could feel my hips jutting upwards as Timothée continued to fuck me with his tongue and fingers, and I could also feel an orgasm approaching incredibly fast.

"Timothée…please I-" I gasped out, grinding my pussy against his tongue, causing him to growl.

"That's it…grind your pussy against my face. Cum. Now." On command, I listened. I came harder than I ever had before. I felt myself squirting a little, too, as I feverishly rubbed my clit against Timothée's tongue. I rode out high with my head tilted back as moans, groans, and whimpers escaped me. Finally, my hips stuttered forward as I rode out the last wave of my orgasm.

"Fuck." I groaned out as I slowly sat up. As I did, I watched as Timothée slowly sat up as well. He looked at me briefly before he pressed against me and kissed me.

"See. I told you that you would taste heavenly. It's like an aphrodisiac, isn't it?" I nodded silently as I looked at him and then slowly looked down at the tent in his pants.

"You want some help?" I asked, slightly out of breath. He smirked and leaned back so he could sit upright. He quickly undid his jeans and then did a "come hither" motion with his finger. I slowly got up and crawled over.

I was on my knees looking at him before he gripped my chin and drew me in.

"Take my cock out and suck Pretty Thing." He let go forcefully, and I did as I was told. As I took it out, I felt my eyes widen. He was big, and he looked delicious.

I slowly leaned down and wrapped my lips around their cock, and forced it as deep as I could into my mouth. I heard them let out a low moan and a soft "Fuck, that feels good, Pretty Thing…" before I continued. I jerked him off with my hands every once in a while to match the rhythm of my sucking their cock. And, every time I moaned, they jutted their hips up, forcing their cock deeper inside of my mouth. I felt them entangle their fingers into my hair and force me to go deeper. At one point, I gagged on their cock as my lips met their base before I was suddenly tugged up. I stared up at them with lidded eyes as I licked their precum from my lips.

"Fuck…" Timothée groaned out before pushing me back down again, making me kiss their base and gag before pulling me up again. He did this a few times, pushing on the back of my head with his hand, causing me to deepthroat their cock and gag again and again. My eyes were rolling back in my head due to pleasure.

"God, I'm going to cum…" He growled out before holding my head in place as his hips jutted up, and he came. I swallowed every last drop as he came into my mouth, and when he finally pulled me up, I gasped for air.

"You did such a good job for me, Pretty Thing." He huffed out, looking at me. I looked back and closed my eyes as he leaned in and kissed me.

As we kissed, I felt him turn his body and start pushing me down against the sheets again. I heard rustling and felt movement, and as I reached up to wrap my arms around his neck, my hand made contact with his skin. I opened my eyes as we separated from our kiss and stared.

He looked otherworldly. He was so beyond beautiful and seductive that I was losing myself in him. He reached down and started helping me get my shirt off, and as he tossed it to the side, his eyes raked up and down my body. I went to cover myself, but he took my hands and held them down.

"Don't. Cover. Yourself." He growled out as he looked down at me, fucking me with his eyes.

"Fuck you are so beautiful. I can't wait to ravish you." He let go of one of my arms and then reached down and positioned the head of his cock at the entrance of my pussy.

"Are you ready?"

I nodded. "Please, Timothée…fuck me." He let out a low growl and thrust into me, making me let out a low moan as my head fell back against the pillow. As my mind drifted, they started fucking me rougher. My arms splayed above my head, and my legs desperately tried to hold themselves up. But, I was so utterly lost in lust that they kept slipping. They responded as I reached my arms down to hold them up.

"Don't you even think about it, Pretty Thing," before gripping my thighs and pulling me closer. They gripped my legs so they would be held further up, and when they did, oh my God, did it feel magnificent. They were plunging inside of me so deeply that my moans and groans became more erratic. Fuck it felt so good.

As Timothée plunged into me, I felt him grip my chin and force me to look at him again. God those eyes…They were so heavily lidded that I just drowned in them. He leaned down and kissed me as he jutted his hips forward, his hand caressing my body as if to try and memorize every inch. It was all too much. I wanted more of him; I wanted him to be deeper. And it seemed that he wanted to be deeper, too.

They leaned down and growled, "Get on your hands and knees."

As they took their cock out, I flipped myself over. I was about to lower myself when suddenly they grabbed my hair and tugged me back while swiftly plunging inside of me. I let out a cry as they started fucking me roughly again. They were going much deeper this time, and I saw stars. They went from just brushing against my g-spot to brushing against my cervix. I don't know what on earth possessed me to utter my words, but I couldn't control myself. We were dealing with a version of myself that I had never met before, a being who craved lust and found themselves unsatiated.

“Please…deeper…rougher…" I had unleashed a beast. I felt them grab onto my hips, my head falling against the pillow as they pounded into me. I honestly don't know how they managed to contain themselves, but they were finding a way. As they pounded into me, they growled.

"You want it deeper, Pretty Thing? Do you want to take every fucking inch of my cock like a dirty whore?"

"God…Timothée, I need to c-cum!" I choked out.

"Cum with me, Pretty Thing…Cum with me now." He groaned into my ear before he roughly pressed his lips against mine.

We let out a cacophony of moans, groans, whimpers, and growls as we feverishly grinded against each other. At the same time, we came, making an absolute mess of ourselves and the bed.

As we rode out our orgasms, our cries became softer and our movements slower before we came to a slow halt.

"Fuck…" Timothée gasped out with a small laugh. "Aren't you glad you came back here, Pretty Thing?"

"I'd hit you now if I wasn't so exhausted."

"Eh. I'm into that."

"Oh my god," I exclaimed with a laugh. "Get out of me."

"As you wish, Pretty Thing." He hissed as he slowly slid out of me and flopped next to me on the bed, and I rested on my side. He turned onto his side to face me and slowly leaned in and kissed me.

"I think you'll be staying here for the night, y/n. Don't worry, there's a shower."

I let out a sigh, knowing he was right. I was in no shape to be walking home, and my friends were absolutely long gone by now. I nodded before reaching over to the floor and finding my pants. I grabbed my phone and pulled it out to text Alexis, Marissa, and Miguel to let them know I was safe and where I would be staying. I was met with messages from all of them saying. "Have fun! ;)" And I laughed. They knew me so well. I threw my phone to the side and turned to face Timothée.

"How about that shower?"

"Sounds good…I bet you'll feel even better in there." I gave him a light slap on the shoulder, and we laughed a little before he leaned in and started kissing me roughly again.

It was about to be a long day…

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chalametsimp · 2 years

Text

Pink in the Night

Pairings: Timothée Chalamet x Reader

Summary: Your neighbor, Timothée tries for months on end to win you over after your first date. What ends up working? A cute visit to the coffee shop, where you’re able to see him as a regular

Warnings: fluff, kind of angsty.

Word Count: 2,640

Authors Notes: to the requester: hey babes this wasn’t a bad or long request, don’t be so hard on yourself. This was really cute and a hoot to write. I hope you enjoy it. Piece title and lyrics by Mitski. Also I highly recommend listening to the song it will make you feel things while reading this lol

masterlist

I glow pink in the night in my room

He had been enamored with you for a long time. Ever since the first day he had seen you, really. He had accidentally knocked down all of the library books you were carrying out of your apartment while he was rushing into his own apartment. Rushing to get away from paparazzi. A particularly large book had fell on your feet, he felt bad about it for days until he eventually ordered flowers to be delivered to your doorstep as an apology. Also because he had a thing for you. To put it lightly.

The first time you had seen him, you smiled. He was a lot more handsome in person than in the magazines. You recognized him, but not someone you knew well. “You’re that guy,” you had said. He loved that you didn’t really care who he was. He was just that guy you recognized. He always wanted to be more than that to you. He constantly thought about how to make you his and about you in general. Especially in the night time when he yearned for you, miserable knowing you were just down the hall.

And the first time he had asked you out on a date, you said yes. It came as a surprise to him, he didn’t think you would really say yes. He had hoped you would, even if it was a long shot. Timothée took care planning the perfect first date. It was perfect, even though everything he planned had fell through. It was perfect because you were together. The two of you got along great and really enjoyed your time together.

It ended in a kiss, one that he would think about and hold on to, only in memory, for months.

You had pulled him in by his rain soaked t-shirt, planting a wet kiss on his lips, right there in your apartment doorway. You invited him inside, where you talked and drank wine all night until you fell asleep on the couch, tangled up together.

I’ve been blossoming alone over you

That’s why it was so confusing to him as to why the next day, you weren’t returning his text messages. It confused him for a long time. A confusion that would haunt him until he found out why.

The times he saw you in that long hall and he managed to say something to you, it was never why? Why did you do this to me? It was always awkward and not very well thought out.

When his words failed, he tried other pursuits to try to win you over. The flowers just being one of them. Some days he would knock at your door, bring you coffee, tea, wine or sometimes lunch.

You were flattered and if you were being honest, you really really liked him too. The truth was, you couldn’t take the pressure. The one taste you had gotten so far, wasn’t something you’d enjoyed. It was the day after your first date, you had opened your phone when he had left. Your phone was filled with messages from your friends, linking nasty articles about you and Timothée. What was worse than the articles, were the comments. You didn’t know if you could handle all of that. It was a shame, because you thought about him just as much as he thought about you. Nothing could be sadder, than two people yearning for one another, with nothing but two doors separating their union.

And I hear my heart breaking tonight

The walls in the complex were thin, and he liked it best when he could hear you singing. When you sang, he knew you were happy. Those were his favorite days. On those days, he would write you love letters. Tokens of his appreciation that would never be sent. They would just sit in a pile by the windowsill, a shrine of his love. They would never even leave the confines of his apartment. He wrote in great detail about how much he adored you, all of the things he wanted to say in person but never quite could. Your singing days were usually the sunniest, your voice served as a soundtrack for his day-to-day life. His favorite soundtrack. He wished you were singing every day.

Do you hear it too?

On the days that he could hear you crying, he wept with you. His heart could barely stand to hold the weight of the world on these days. Your quiet sobs broke his heart every time. He would sit by his door, hand pressed to the wood, willing you to feel better. He wanted to leave you sleeping medication, but instead he would leave you more flowers. Occasionally, the appearance of the flowers would fix your loneliness. When his flowers could dry up the well of your tears…. well, those were his second favorite kinds of days.

However, today, was his best day yet. He caught you right at the perfect moment. Today was the day you would finally agree to go out with him again.

You stepped out of your apartment, he stepped out at the same moment. You looked great, he prayed you weren’t going out with another boy today. Those were the worst days. He thought about all the times he had to suffer when some piece of shit would come knocking on your door, asking for your affections. Every time he wanted to shoo them away, to say “fuck off, she’s mine.” But he never did.

It’s like a summer shower

With every drop singing

I love you, I love you, I love you

“Y-you look gorgeous.” He stated, you turned to look at him from over your shoulder as you locked your door. You smiled at him, and his heart nearly combusted. The sun through his open door hit your sundress perfectly.

“Thanks Timothée,” a giggle, “you don’t look so bad yourself. What are you up to?” You’d hoped it came off as neighborly, you always tried your best to hide how much you liked him, and how much you liked to look at him.

He looked handsome in his white button down and t-shirt, hair just a little bit wild like always. You loved it. “I’m going out to get some coffee, would you like to join me?” His eyebrow raised and you pretended to think about it. Only for a moment. Your heart swelled. Oh good, he doesn’t hate me, you thought. Sometimes you would cry at night at the thought of never contacting him again.

You smiled again, his words washing away your sad thoughts “I was just about to go for a stroll, I’m thinking I could go for some coffee too.”

His heart leapt in his chest when you agreed. He immediately held out his hand for you to hold, he was desperate to feel your skin again. You were desperate to feel him too. Timothée was tired of only interacting with small quips and tiny glances. He relished even the moments where he’d watch you through the peep hole, wishing he could be the one twirling the hair that fell down your back.

I love you, I love you, I love you

I could stare at your back all day

You walked out of the complex together, fingers interlocked, palms not touching. There was something uniquely intimate about it. You were thankful that there wasn’t anyone outside when you walked through the threshold. You hated the crowds.

But you loved holding hands with Timothée. You snuck glances at him as you walked through the city together. You thought about how beautiful he looked. He always looked beautiful. In your eyes, he was too much to be into you. He was beautiful, famous and seemed to be on the surface, incredibly cool. It must have been a joke. You shook your head to try and shake away the thought along with it. This isn’t middle school, people don’t do that anymore. A pink fanned across his cheeks from the morning wind. Ethereal. He must have noticed this because he turned to look at you, near award winning smile coming out to play. It made you want to cry, because you really wanted to look at it forever. His thumb rubbed softly against the top of your hand. Goosebumps. “How was your week?” You asked him.

“How was m-my week?” He spluttered, it was hard for him to think when your skin was touching. Timothée’s eyebrows furrowed together, confused. “My week!” He felt like an idiot for his temporary memory loss.

Timothée continued on when he came back to earth “My week was busy, I’ve been working on a couple of new projects I’m excited about.” He didn’t want to talk about it. He wanted to talk about you, and talk with you about things that were worth talking about. What he was working on was important to him, but it was something he talked about to press, to the world, not something he wanted to talk about with you. Not because he didn’t want you to know. He wanted you to know him, in a way that no one else could. “What about you? How was your week?”

You shrugged your shoulders and looked over at him “I’ve been working on a couple of songs. Nothing serious, just for fun, a couple of open mics.”

“I’ve heard you singing before, you sound really great.” Really man? You had to say that out loud? She probably thinks you’re a creep now, he thought and shoved his freehand into his pocket. He was just as intimidated by you.

Your smile grew wide and you blushed “Really? That’s so cute. Thank you.” Thank the heavens, it didn’t seem like you thought it was weird.

You on the other hand, wanted to run and hide. Hearing that from someone with exceptional taste made you fear the worst. Was he being sarcastic?

Suddenly he stopped walking which forced you to stop on the path too. The two of you were almost to the coffee shop. You turned to look at him, perplexity painted all over your face. Oh fuck. “What’s wrong?” Timothée just stood there and stared at you, he looked like he might cry. Looked like he might cry but he had a smile on his lips.

“You just look so gorgeous,” he hesitated before he spoke his next words, afraid this might scare you off for good. But he had to ask. He didn’t think he would have any peace if he didn’t “and I can’t figure out what I did wrong here? Did I come on too strong? What did I do?” His voice was pleading and it was so desperate you couldn’t help yourself from walking to where he stood. You faced him and sighed softly. You wanted to kiss him again. You wanted to embrace him. You wanted to dive into anything he wanted. You wanted what he wanted, if it meant you could be with him. The thought terrified you however. You had only caught a glimpse of what that could mean for your life, for your mental health. Could you handle it?

“I wish I could tell you how often I think of you.” You started, hand coming up to press against his shirt. His knees nearly buckled and the sun started to shine brighter. The touch of an angel. “And of how often I think of the things said about me.” Your eyes fell from his face now, to peer at the hand on his chest. It looked right. It felt right. It felt better when his hand moved to cover yours, cold decorative rings grazing your skin.

“I’m sorry,” Timothée frowned, having an idea of what you were referring to “I know it’s a lot to deal with. It’s a lot to ask someone to put up with. I’m sorry I can’t say that I can make it all go away.” His hand squeezed yours gently.

Timothée continued, “I can try to make your other troubles go away though. I’ll try my best. I’ll be so good to you. I just want a chance to show you the actual Timothée, please. I don’t want anyone else to know me.” He paused and bit his lip gently, forcing his gaze away out of nervousness. “Fuck all the noise, just give me a chance.”

“It is a lot to ask of someone..” You lamented, voice quiet and sad. Your gaze moved to meet his, and his stare sent a warmth through your body “But I want you so bad, I feel like it might not matter..” Maybe you would give him a chance.

“Oh god, I want you so bad, you have no idea how happy it makes me to hear you say that.” He was beaming now and he tried is hardest to contain himself. Timothée grabbed your face in his hands.

“I know I've kissed you before,

but I didn't do it right

Can I try again?”

You laughed at him and playfully rolled your eyes “Technically, I kissed you.”

“Maybe I misinterpreted the situation,” he chuckled and scratched the back of his neck awkwardly as he leaned down to brush his nose against yours.

“So are you going to try again or are you just going to stand there looking handsome?” At the sound of your brevity a blush rose to his cheeks and he finally pressed his lips to yours. You smiled against each other, your arm coming to wrap around his neck to pull him closer.

You reluctantly pulled away, not without giving him one more quick kiss. “I guess I could give you a chance.” You were turning on your heel and beckoning him to follow you into the coffee shop to order. “Another coffee for old times sake?” He followed after you.

Timothée felt strange walking into the coffee shop he had been into so many times. He always went alone. But not today. The baristas looked up at him with wide eyes. You expected them to say something about how it’s the Timothée Chalamet.

To your surprise, one of them spoke up and said “Oh my gosh, is this her?” You turned to look at a very embarrassed Timothée. He shifted on his feet and held a finger above his lips, a silent begging of please shut up!

“What do you mean?” You laughed and approached the counter, leaving him standing in the door way, blushing bright red.

A girl wearing an apron steps forward and chuckles, motioning to the sheepish man. “This one right here, comes here every week and gushes about you. ‘Do you think she would like this flavor? What about this scone? Would she like it? Is the Lavender syrup too much lavender?’ I just never thought I would see the day when you actually came in with him.” She exasperated before taking your coffee order. You were laughing now, blushing along with him.

You turned to face him and he looked like he wanted to just sink into the floor. “Yeah, this is her.” He wanted to disappear. Instead he approached you, settling his hand on the small of your back. He ordered his own coffee.

“She’s cute, I like her.” Another barista yelled from the back and you giggled quietly, curling into his side.

The two of you sat outside and chatted about things that mattered, and your hearts felt full after long months of being separated by life and hesitations. You spent the better part of the day together before you had to reluctantly separate for work things.

He had asked you on a second first date. Now the both of you had something sweet to look forward to, to get you by.

#timothee chalamet imagine #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee chalamet fanfic #timothee chalamet fluff #timothee chalamet one shot #timothee chalamet oneshot #timothée chalamet imagine

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princessandtheflea · 2 years

Text

@chalametsimp

Sex and Candy 18+

Summary: Timmy has a plan to get you on your knees. A plan that involves great news.

Warnings: smuttttt, fingering, oral both receiving, leg riding, unprotected sex, cum swallowing, daddy kink kind of. this is naughty okay.

Accidentally deleted this from the tags so here this is again. Please like it over there if you enjoyed :)

#timothee chalamet smut #timothee chalamet oneshot #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee chalamet fanfic #timothee chalamet imagine

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regulussimp444 · 2 years

Text

Here’s this I guess for now until my tags are fixed. I’ll post my timo fics on here too for the tags and then add them to the other masterlist.

It’s Ziggy.

Sigh.

Send me some short Reggie plots pl0x

Steamy or sweet.

#regulus black smut #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee chalamet oneshot #timothee chalamet imagine #regulus black imagine

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ghostgirl101 · 1 month

Note

I just wanna say that I am SO excited for the part 2 to your Paul Destiny fic. I have so many questions and Im excited to see if they get answered. Like if Paul is pledging his love to the reader then is the romance plot with Chani still relevant? Is the reader still the princess here? Very interesting

Imagine if Paul Atreides claimed you as his destiny: PART Ⅱ of Ⅱ

|| Word Count: 1.7K || Fluff ||

A/N: Honestly, I didn't think this would blow up so much- 1k+ likes??! Thank you all, it's sick 🙃 in answer to your questions, I didn't really specify if the reader (you) are part of a Great House or the Emperor's daughter, or maybe someone else, that's kind of up to your imagination. And yeah, sorry Chani fans, I kind of kicked her to the curb lmao; This is all about you, and so enjoy the second and final part of this destiny trope before I work on some relationship headcanons for Paul and Feyd-Rautha... Requests are open for Dune 2, so don't be shy 📩

You can't escape fate.

It's as real as the Spice that threads through the grains of sand blanketing Arrakis in heavy, warm golden waves. It twists and turns in the air, in the tides of change, something beyond understanding roping together reality and its lives to bond, whether in love or hate.

At least, with the newly ascended young Emperor, you know which side you're on. Since the day of his declaration and claiming of you as his Empress, you've never once left his sight, unknowingly or not. The boy is almost ridiculously close and observant, as if testing the depths of the events unfolding around him, testing to see whether you'll try to run from them, from him. But you can't run from fate, either.

"You aren't resting."

Paul's soft, low voice slices through the silence of the dusk, the only words you hear before you feel his warm, firm arms slipping under your arms and around your middle, pulling you into his front in a smooth, protective motion. His chocolate brown locks tickle your neck and cheek as he gazes up at you from your shoulder; wandering, curious eyes study yours knowingly, his natural hues tainted blue with the Spice.

"What troubles you?"

You hesitate in your response, unsure of the right thing to say. There's no point in lying, not to him, to a boy who could easily use the power of his Voice to make you tell him everything and anything with just a few words. He's done it to the Bene Gesserit, to those who speak out of turn and challenge him cluelessly, but never to you. And something tells you that he never will.

"I'm sorry," is how you answer instead, in a small whisper, trying to read his expression before his reaction.

But all Paul does is give you one of his soft, amused smirks, a brow raising slightly, unconvinced.

"Don't apologise to anyone for anything," he murmurs, his fingers drifting to lock with yours, his hand hot and strong in yours. "We are to be wed, you and I, soon. So what troubles you?"

"It's not you," you tell him as earnestly as you can, his eyes capturing yours and holding them as you blink up at him. "I'm just... nervous."

"Nervous?" Paul repeats gently, his hands squeezing yours for a moment, his face an inch away from yours. "What have you to be nervous about?" He grins slightly, not attempting to hide his teasing amusement. "A wedding?"

You can't help but smile at his tone, savouring the unguarded moments of the new, young Emperor, his boyish traits lingering beneath the newfound power and promises passed down to him.

You were nervous, because you weren't so familiar with destiny and its quirks, and yet, Paul Atreides seemed to be its master. Nervous, because although there was a strange pull between you and him, a deeper part of you somehow knowing him, at an instinctive ease with him, you had never met him before these past few days, and now, you were going to be joined together for time indefinite by marriage. Nervous, because he didn't just want you to rule with him, but alongside him, as a partner, a second part of him. His second half who's with him in soul, not just spirit, physically, not just mentally. And he's relishing in it.

"I've never had one before," you shake your head with a light smile, "I don't know what to expect. Or what's expected of me."

Paul hums to himself at your reply, pausing for a while as he thinks over his words.

"It isn't just a wedding," he tells you quietly, "it's so much more. This... this a beginning. A new dawn."

"Beginning?" You echo in bemusement, looking up at him in wonder. "Of what?"

"Of a new era," Paul says thoughtfully, his hands moving from yours to run over and down your sides, tracing over your figure absentmindedly, a gesture that makes you hold your breath for a beat as you watch him, "the first of many. You are more than a mere future. You're the future. My future. And the future of my people."

The sincerity and conviction in his voice makes you stare back at him in slight awe, taken by his certainty of what he's seen in the deepest stretches of his mind, the flickering images of you, adorned in all your natural beauty and grace that he could find nothing short of perfect. You were a fantasy and a hope materialised. Someone he'd wished and dreamed for so much, that you came true, just as you should have.

"Anything that happens to you," Paul continues, looking you straight in the eye as he speaks, "happens to me. You have always been mine, and I was yours before then. Absolutely and completely."

And his words make a home in your head, everything he says so poetic and beautifully surreal, but so honest and unwaveringly confident. He didn't need to practise what he said before he whispered the sweet words in your ear, in a voice only you could catch, in the long, warm nights on Arrakis. There was no need for practice. He had been made for this, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

You let yourself relax slightly in his grips, giving him an earnest smile. "That sounds nice."

Paul smiles back at you, a bright, sweet smile that makes him seem so soft and normal, almost forgetting for a moment of his utter strength and glory over the planets, his dangerous darkness that he occasionally allowed to rule over his actions at the tensest of times, until those who stood up against him retreated in bewilderment and fascination and fear.

"It does," he agrees, his gaze dropping to look out at the dunes beyond you, "you can't imagine..."

You couldn't. But every part of you wanted to. And those parts won.

"Won't you tell me?"

Paul's attention shifts back to you after you speak, before you can stop yourself.

"Would it be kind to tell you?" He asks aloud, speaking half to himself as his eyes go to search yours again, studying every inch of you, almost unsettlingly intently.

"Do you dream?" Paul questions you softly, and you dither before shaking your head.

"Not like you do," you answer steadily.

"Like I do. Seeing your face amidst the streaks of sunbeams and every kind of ethereal power that could create wonders, planets, worlds. Waking up, and you're not here, though it felt so real," he goes on, his voice laced with longing, as if it pained him to remember the feeling. "Realer than I've ever felt anything before. Every sense in me was awakened, because with destiny, I saw hope. And I did not know that hope could be so.... beautifully... angelic."

Paul draws closer and closer with each word, pulled by invisible strings to rest his forehead against yours, closing his eyes for a long moment to breathe, breathe you in. The sight of it is almost dizzyingly hypnotic, staring at the little scattered freckles over his fair, lightly tanned skin, cheeks flushed golden. He moves his face to rub his cheek against yours, seeking out affection in an irresistible rare, vulnerable move. Your hand reaches up to brush your fingers against it, and he takes it in his immediately, pressing his lips against your fingertips as he speaks.

"I need you," Paul insists, his voice firm and pressing again as he stares at you with a spark of desperation. "I need only you. More than you can comprehend. By my side, always, where you belong."

"I'm right here," you reply a little giddily, looking away from his eyes slightly bashfully from the intensity and unbridled longing of his gaze. "I suppose I'm just not used to this."

"To what?" Paul questions, his fingers tilting your chin up softly to force your eyes back up to his, his face a little closer than before. "To being an Empress?"

Before you can respond, he's pushed himself closer over you, his warm, damp lips sliding and pressing against yours and parting to encourage you to deepen his affections. It sends hot shockwaves rushing straight through your blood, as Paul crouches over you, all patience and purpose forgotten in the moment where it's just the two of you in the calm, lingering desert night.

You fit together perfectly, too perfectly for his words to be untrue, and his head tilts keenly where your fingers skim his neck, his lips parting from yours as they tangle in his hair with a short gasp. He loses none of his confidence and persistence, his azure blue eyes a shade darker as he watches you with an open trace of adoration.

"A queen?"

"Paul," you start shakily, as he smirks at you fondly, his head ducking to trace his tongue briefly up the skin of your neck, with a faint chuckle.

"To being desired?"

You glare at him weakly, hanging onto his hands tight to find some sense of grounding. "You're just playing with me."

"I intend to do so much more than that," Paul grins at you, kissing your cheek before burying his face against your shoulder. "And so should you. Test the depths of our connection. Push it to its limits. Push me. Please."

You find yourself speechless again at his way with words, simple and truthful, but full of passion and unthought romance, a sensation he's been craving since the first shadows of your being in his hazy dreams and visions.

"Give into your destiny, sweet girl," he croons to you in a whisper, his lips brushing against yours and pressing down against your skin needily, hungrily. It takes almost inhumane strength not to crumble and shiver under his touch and desire radiating off him and his dark glare, the wanting over years of dreams and prophecies building up to its peak. "Give into me."

"I think I will," you whisper back in awe and giddiness, your arms having to hold tightly around his neck to stay upright. "I think I want to."

"That's good," he praises you with a soft smile, as his voice lowers. "And besides," Paul mutters in your ear, nuzzling against your cheek breathlessly, with that subtle, teasing look in his eyes, "I plan on taking you as mine well before the wedding."

══════════════⊹⊱≼ fin ≽⊰⊹══════════════

Taglist (lmk if you want to be added to this for my future Dune fanfics): @minaxcarter @milaeth @ennycutie @weird0o0 @aoi-targaryen @jindongdongie

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babyflorencee · 4 months

Text

Stop taking your hands out of mine

Timothée Chalamet x fem!Reader

'Boys don't cry' by The Cure played silently from the beat-up speaker that was sitting on top of my desk. I was sitting down on my bed with my boyfriend Timothée, who was laying down in between my legs, holding up the book 'The Body' by Stephen King as we read it together. One of his hands was flipping through the pages while the other was enlaced with mine. Timothée and I started dating a little more than four months ago, and ever since we made it official, he has been at my house almost every day. And quite frankly, I'm almost positive that he's at my house more than his own. But I honestly didn't care. I enjoyed his company more than anything.

One word everyone uses to describe our relationship is 'perfect'. We rarely fought and when we did, it was always a petty argument like, 'which cookie is best.' Everyone who has seen us together, all say we are "a match made from heaven," which makes me happy knowing people liked me and Timothée together.

We read a few more pages until I heard Timothée sigh rather loudly, as he closed the book and flipping over so that his face was nuzzling into my neck. I took my hand out of his, brushing some loose strands of his long brown hair out of his eyes. He let out a whinny groan, taking my hand back into his.

After a few minutes, he started to close his eyes, pressing little kisses all over my neck and jaw, making butterflies erupt in my stomach. I let out a yawn, looking down at Timothée. Seeing him peacefully sleeping started to make me tired. I took my hand out of his for the second time, now closing my eyes. I was almost asleep when I felt him jab his index finger into my side, waking me up. I opened my eyes, seeing Timothée with a very unhappy, almost annoyed expression. "Stop taking your hand out of mine," he said with a pouting face. He rolled his eyes, taking my hand back in his, except this time he held it tight.

"Sorry," I whispered, closing my eyes once again.

After a while of silence, I assumed he was sleeping until he spoke up. "I love you," he said, but because his head was buried in the crook of my neck, it came out muffled.

"I love you too," I said, with a smile plastered on my face before wrapping my legs around his waist, pulling him closer to me, and resting one of my hands on the top of his head, lightly holding his face close to my chest.

"Night babe," I whispered, repeatedly kissing his hair, as he just quietly hums.

#timothee chalamet imagines #timothee chalamet #timothee x reader #timothee chalamet smut #timothée chalamet #Timothée Chalamet imagines #Timothée Chalamet smut #Timothée Chalamet fanfic #Timothée Chalamet one shots #Timothée Chalamet oneshots #Timothée Chalamet x reader

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missjadesfics · 2 months

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Paul Atreides

We Can Share - Feyd-Rautha x Reader x Paul Atreides Y/n is Feyd and Paul's childhood friend; rather than choose one, why not have both?

We Made an Agreement - Paul Atreides x Reader x Duncan Idaho Y/n and Paul are married, both agreeing they can sleep with whomever they like. The reader finds comfort with Duncan. But Paul questions if the agreement works for him anymore.

My Gem - Paul Atreides x Reader Paul asks for the Emperor's eldest daughter, Y/n, for her hand in marriage.

Don't play the Fool - Paul Atreides x Reader Paul and Y/n are in an arranged marriage, and Paul notices his bride is unbothered by it. Maybe he can change her thoughts; after all, marriage can't be all that bad.

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen

His Little Wife - Feyd-Rautha x Atreides!Reader Y/n is Paul's twin sister and is sent to marry Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen

We Can Share - Feyd-Rautha x Reader x Paul Atreides Y/n is Feyd and Paul's childhood friend; rather than choose one, why not have both?

Delicate Feelings - Feyd-Rautha x Reader Y/n is to wed Feyd-Rautha; intentionally, she is frightened, but Feyd begins to fall in love with her. When a man makes a move on the reader, Feyd reminds him; that he doesn't share.

Our Na-Baroness - Feyd-Rautha x Reader x Duncan Idaho Y/n is arranged to marry Feyd, and her lover Duncan goes as her personal guard to keep her safe. When Feyd learns of the lover's relationship, he ensures everyone understands where they belong.

Yours Truly, Feyd - Feyd-Rautha x Reader (Bridgerton-inspired AU) Feyd-Rautha, who hasn't felt the need for marriage, attends a courting ball to keep in his uncle's good graces. Y/n, on the other hand, has dreamed of her first courting ball, her debut to all the eligible lords. But falling in love with someone without intentions of marriage while thinking they don't reciprocate your feelings is silly, right?

His Sweet Kiss - Feyd-Rautha x Reader Y/n witnesses the attack on Arrakis, hoping to escape and find Paul. She is captured by the Harkonnen soldiers. And the future Na-Baron takes an interest in her.

Sandstorms aren't all that bad - Feyd-Rautha x Reader When Feyd-Rautha and Y/n are stuck in a cave during a sandstorm on Arrakis, they both confess their feelings for one another and find a way to pass the time.

Duncan Idaho

The Sword Master and the Ward - Duncan x Atreides!Ward Reader Duncan Idaho, the Atreides sword master, begins an illicit affair with Duke Leto's ward Y/n

Our Baroness - Feyd-Rautha x Reader x Duncan Idaho Y/n is arranged to marry Feyd, and her lover Duncan goes as her personal guard to keep her safe. When Feyd learns of the lover's relationship, he ensures everyone understands where they belong.

You will never lose me - Duncan Idaho x Reader Escaping from the attack on Arrakis, Y/n Atreides is reunited with Duncan Idaho and living amongst the Fremen in Sietch Tabr. While Paul and Jessica work with the Fremen about the Lisan-Al Giab prophecy, Y/n and Duncan grow closer, revealing hidden feelings for one another.

Leto Atreides

Feyd-Rautha looking after sick reader headcanons | coming soon

Dune men reacting to their so saying " i love you" | coming soon

Dune men looking after reader on their period | coming soon

Duncan Idaho x Reader - You will never lose me | coming soon

#dune #dune part one #dune part two #paul atreides x reader #paul atreides #feyd rautha #feyd rautha x reader #duncan idaho #duncan idaho x reader #leto atreides #leto atreides x reader #dune imagine #dune oneshots #dune smut #dune fluff #jason momoa #oscar isaac #timothee chalamet #austin butler

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redskull199987 · 1 month

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A bright Future

Paul Atreides x fem!reader Word Count:1.4k Warnings:minor Spoilers for Dune Part II, Blood, stab Wound, Violence, you know the drill Summary:You thought you were going to be fine. Until you saw Paul cry. He knew the Rules of the Desert better than anyone else. Seeing him waste his Water so freely told you how serious the Situation was…

Masterlist

It was quiet. Or at least that’s what it felt like. A quiet and short moment, that barely anyone around you noticed. You had always thought getting stabbed would be a sharp pain, naturally. That you’d scream out in pain or drop to your knees.

But none of that ever happened. It wasn’t a sharp pain, it felt dull and barely noticeable. It was the adrenaline and Spice running through your system. Or that’s what you told yourself. You had to tell yourself something. Something to keep you focused, to tell yourself to not black out. To pull out the blade and kill the Harkonnen Warrior in front of you.

You felt slow, awfully slow. You thought that if you had been any slower, the Harkonnen might have stopped and laughed at you for ever thinking you could beat him. But Paul and Chani later told you, they had never seen someone move so fast, like you did in that moment.

The Adrenaline, you told yourself again. Over and over again. You had to keep fighting, finish the Mission. Save the Fremen. The people that had become your family, even over the short time that you had been on Arrakis. You just had to make it, that you owed them.

The next few minutes felt like you weren’t even in control of your own body. Like you were a watcher, an observer. It felt like you were back on Caladan, watching a filmbook about the Fremen with Paul. You saw yourself fight against the Harkonnen with Paul while Chani fired her weapon at the Thopters. You saw the Explosion and felt the earth shatter from the sheer power of the blast. It must’ve been the Spice, you thought. Granting you views and visions you weren’t even capable of seeing. As an Outsider, you had always been sensitive to the Melange.

And lastly, you felt the Pain.

The Pain of the weight of the world crashing down on you again. First there was silence, but suddenly you felt everything everywhere all at once. You felt like the sand beneath your feet was pulling you down and no matter how much you fought against it, you couldn’t escape it. Couldn’t escape fate. Couldn’t escape death.

You abruptly came to a halt. Paul’s hand left yours and you saw your two companions run a little further, until they noticed that you had stopped. You heard Paul call out to you and a few seconds later, he came running over to you. His expression was of pure panic when his gaze wandered from your face to your abdomen. You had pressed a hand against it, but it seemed useless. Thick warm Blood was oozing out between your fingers. It felt comforting, somehow. It told you that you weren’t dead, yet. Somewhere in your mind, you heard Stilgar scolding you, every drop of Blood was valuable Water. Water that was now lost in the Dunes of Arrakis.

“Paul?”, You mumbled. You were sure he didn’t even hear you with how quiet you spoke. Your mouth felt awfully dry. But what you did know, was that he saw you fall. And you felt his arms as they wrapped around you, dragging you back to your feet, urging you to keep going. A soft groan left your lips, as you did as he told you. Just a few more meters. A few more meters and you'd be over the next Dune. You’d be safe. You knew that the rest of your people weren’t far away. Neither was Sietch Tabr. You were almost sure that you were going to make it. That was until you saw Paul cry. Saw how his tears dropped into the hot sand, evaporating almost immediately. He knew the Rules of the Desert better than anyone else. And seeing him waste his Water so freely told you how serious the Situation was.

When you reached the top of the Dune, The Spice Harvester behind you exploded, sending the three of you flying down on the other side. Your ears rang from the Explosion. But you barely even acknowledged it. You tightly pressed your hand on top of the Wound as you tumbled down in the sand, but it was useless. Finally, after what felt like ages, you released a scream. A scream so earth shattering, Paul later told you, he thought he’d lost you in that exact moment.

For a few Seconds, all you heard were your own wheezing Breaths, the blood rushing in your ears and the sand crunching beneath your Body. When Paul and Chani came into view, you heard their Voices. Loud and Clear. You wanted to answer them. Tell them that you were going to be fine.

But you couldn’t. You couldn’t talk and if you could’ve, you didn’t even know if you could promise them that you were going to be alright. You so desperately wanted to talk to them. Talk to Paul. Tell him how much you loved him, that you would follow him to the very end. Talk to Chani, tell her how much you appreciated her, how thankful you were that she took you in and accepted her as one of her own People.

But you couldn’t. All you managed to do was lift your hand, even just a few centimeters above the Ground. And when Paul grabbed your hand, squeezed it ever so tightly, you knew that it was going to be alright. It had to be. it just had to.

And then you blacked out.

You were older. So much older. At least ten years. Over the time, you’ve had many Spice-induced Visions. Never as strong as Pauls, only snippets. Short moments, often not far into the future, just a few weeks, a month tops.

But this was different. This was at least a decade into the Future. And it felt so vivid, you almost thought it was real. When you saw your own face, older and more mature, standing alongside Paul and behind a long table that you knew was in the throne room of Arrakeen, many familiar faces gathered around it, alongside with some you didn’t know, yet. You knew you were not dead, you couldn’t be. For what reason would you be seeing this, if you weren’t going to make it. It would be worthless.

As the Vision started to fade, you saw Paul look at you. Not at the older You, but at you. You who were observing this. And it felt like he could see you, standing there at the other side of the Table, smiling at you like he always did when he tried to comfort you. Your brows furrowed in confusion, but there was nothing you could do, as you felt your mind slip out of the vision and back into reality.

You heard all kinds of voices around you, most of them familiar. You felt the bed beneath your body, you smelled the warm air of Sietch Tabr. You knew you were Home. And when you finally opened your eyes, you heard a chorus of cheers break out around you. You saw the warm smile of Stilgar who patted your shoulder before he scurried off to tell the good news to the rest of the Fremen. Next you saw Lady Jessica, your Reverend Mother standing in the Corner of the Room. She gave you an acknowledging nod. You bowed your head in return, knowing that you probably owed her your survival.

Lastly, you saw Chani and Paul who were sitting at your bedside. When your Gaze wandered to them, as you sat up you couldn’t help but laugh. it was a warm and genuine Laugh. You were alive. You had made it and you would live to see them again, the people who mattered most to you. Chani smiled at you in return, gently squeezing your hand, before standing up to join Stilgar and the other Fremen outside.

Paul and You were the only People who remained in the now silent room.

“I thought I’d lost you.”, he finally sniffled. You slowly looked up, seeing that Tears were running down his face. “But you didn’t.”, You answered firmly, raising your hand to wipe away his tears,”So, stop wasting your water.”

Paul chuckled quietly, putting his hand on top of yours, closing his eyes in relief. With a grin, you leaned your head against his, swaying in the warm sun of Arrakis.

“Trust me, we have a bright Future ahead of Us.”

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timmymyluv · 2 years

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safe space

caregiver! timothée chalamet x little!reader

warning: mentions of trauma, completely sfw, communication of boundaries clearly/consultation with medical professionals/licensed therapists

word count: 666 words (i laughed when i found out dw)

notes: this series will mostly be sfw but there will be a few chapters that will be communicated about thoroughly beforehand about boundaries & checking in with professionals before any sexual role-playing between reader as a little and timothee as the caregiver/daddy (warnings for those chapters will be given beforehand I promise)

each chapter can be read alone and the sexual ddlg special chapters can be avoided in the series if it weirds you out/not your thing.

basically reader has a lot of trauma and shares with timothee how she's been sharing this with a therapist and uses age regression to heal their inner child. this is a prologue and introduction before the actual episodes of agere. ❤️

again, even if you’re on my tag list or fan of my previous works but don’t feel like reading this/uncomfortable, you don’t have to read through it, please and thanks. only read what ya want, love ya.

prologue.

“What’s this?”

You froze, felt like all the blood in your body left you cold, and wished the shame that came over you to wash you out completely then.

“What are you talking about-oh.” “Oh that’s right. As if the gods couldn’t curse you more today, Timothee had accidentally discovered your previously hidden stash of bibs, plushies, pacifiers, and colourful baby doll themed clothes that looked like complete outsiders to your daily wardrobe.

“Is this the part where you tell me you had a secret kid you haven’t told me about?” He asks, holding up the lacey material of the frilly pink dress, confusion etched on his pretty features.

“I-ah- I age regress.” You stammer, watching him nervously, cowering in case he decided to walk out that very second but genuine concern and curiosity is all you get from him.

“Oh- what’s that?” He tilts his head, eyes shining under your bedroom light and you regret doubting his reaction there and then.

“I haven’t talked much about this yet, but earlier in my life, way before I met you- I went through a lot of trauma and pain, and as a healthy way to cope and heal from that, I basically transform into a young kid again to self-soothe and coddle my inner child. I didn’t want to spring this on you as you’d think I’m childish or ridiculous, but I healthily set boundaries and discuss this with my licensed therapist so I’m not doing this all by myself-”

He cuts you off with a firm, yet protective hug, his scent pleasant to your senses as he engulfs you with his warmth, feeling your skin against his as he massages you with comforting circles on your lower back and peppers dainty pecks with his plush lips.

“I’m sorry you had to go through all of that, my angel. I know you’ve told me your childhood wasn’t the easiest or the best, but it makes me so proud to see you making the efforts to recover from them. You’re so strong, mon amour.” His soothing cooing voice with a tinge of pity turns your teary eyes into a waterfall as you bawl into his chest, like a string pulled from underneath you and he panics seeing you so deflated, yet simultaneously relieved.

“I-I hope I didn’t say anything to hurt you? I do not know much about how I can support you on this, but I’ll do my research whenever you have these episodes okay? And I’ll talk to your therapist, would you like that?” You nod as he raises your chin with his fingers, looking you straight into your eyes you wonder if he can pierce through your soul while he’s at it.

“No, no you didn’t - I’m just so fucking relieved, I was afraid I would be a burden to you.”

“You would never. You’re by my side through thick and thin when I have a hard time right. You wouldn’t let me suffer on my own?”

“I would never!” You fumed in anger just at the prospect of him hurting all alone and not being by his side when he needed it most.

“So I would easily do the same for you. No question. So let me know when you feel like one of your episodes is starting, ok?”

“Hmm. To be clear, I don’t always do this and I don’t expect you to do everything for me around the house and use it as an excuse. When I do, I’m in a certain space and set clear boundaries of what I need that time, a caregiver to help feed me sometimes, colour with me, play with toys and just basic human kid things. Is that okay?”

“That’s totally okay with me, darling. I’ll be your caretaker and giver, alright?”

You cuddled for the rest of the night, watching your favourite movies growing up as a child, in your unicorn, bright pastel and neon fluffy blanket and dug into your stash of candy cravings.

taglist:

@blackqueenstarseed1 @softhecreator @ohmysw33 @imnotoverlyobsessive @mondieumat @chanotel @starberry-cake @timotheel0ver @chalametsimp @hellomadamebutterfly @themonsterheloved @chal-latte @s-we-e-t-t-ea @zelleriz @strawberriescherrieskiwi @fangirl125reader @xoxoloverb @us3rd1stort1on @thebetawolfgirl @chelseamendes99 @yomidebby @esmaada @princessandtheflea @thestarsaregivenonceonly @meetmyothersouls @katsukis1wife

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timhalamet · 2 months

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TIMOTHEE C

(no work yet)

#masterlist #fem!reader #timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet x you #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee chalamet oneshot #timothee chalamet imagine #timothee chalamet fanfiction #timothee x reader #timothee chamalet #timothée chalamet #timothee fanfic #timothee imagine

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andy-15-07 · 2 months

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DUNE Masterlist

Feyd-Rautha

Soft Spot

His love for you

Seraphina

My precious one

Forbidden Bonds

Beneath the Veil of Fate

Victory's Embrace

A Father's Pride

Love's Resolution

Paul Atreides

Our love is powerful

Bonds Beyond Blood

Comfort in Sickness

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anxiouswriter0 · 26 days

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i don't care | Laurie Laurence

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Inside one of the rooms of the march residence lay the feverish body of one of the sisters, to be specific, (y/n) March.

the girl might have contracted an illness due to the strain she had been under in recent days. for a moment, her sisters and mother were terrified that perhaps (y/n) had contracted scarlet fever, but luckily that wasn't the case. although she was taken care of by everyone, (y/n) didn't agree with being looked after. it's not that she was stubborn (or maybe she was), she just didn't want her sisters to stop attending to their activities to take care of her.

lying on the bed with both arms behind her head, resting on the pillow, and with a thick blanket covering her from the waist down.

trying to rest for the umpteenth time. but this time (y/n) managed to close her eyes completely.

but suddenly, soft knocks sounded behind the door. (y/n) reluctantly turned her head towards the door. as no one entered or even asked, she rolled her eyes, closed them again, but... the knocks sounded again.

—Jo, if it's you, don't worry, I'm fine, okay? —(y/n) spoke hoarsely.

no one responded.

—Jo? —(y/n) asked without even looking, as she didn't even have her eyes open due to the exhaustion she was feeling.

the sound of the door being opened, along with the echo of boots resonating on the wooden floorboards, filled the room. the small "creak" of the door closing gently was all that could be heard, as if the person entering the room wanted to make as little noise as possible, but the sound of their boots on the wood gave them away. (y/n), who still had her eyes closed, could hear every step, softly echoing in the room, approaching. Until at one moment, they stopped, and (y/n) felt the weight of someone sitting down beside her bed.

opening her eyes slightly and trying to visualize who it was, although at first everything seemed blurry, (y/n) gradually began to recognize the facial features of that person.

—Laurie? —she asked, astonished, as the person smiled gently.

—What are you doing here? —she asked, confused, but with a noticeable discreet smile.

—Jo told me you were in bed, so since everyone had their turn to visit you, I felt like now it was my turn to do so, —Laurie joked, eliciting a small smile from (y/n).

—But putting that aside, how are you feeling? —he asked, changing the subject.

—Do you really want to know? —(y/n) asked, as Laurie nodded in response.

—Terribly indebted to them, —(y/n) blurted out, making Laurie laugh. —You should have seen them coming in and out of the room. I couldn't sleep with the sound of their shoes echoing on the floor, the door opening and closing, and please don't make me remember the sound of their desperate voices. for a moment, I felt like I was dying, —(h/c) laughed, while feeling Laurie rub her hand over the arm that was extended behind (y/n)'s head..

—But amidst all the chaos you're telling me, I see that you're doing well, —he said, rested her hand on the other end of the bed, beside the girl's body.

—Tell my sisters, —said (y/n), placing her arm over her eyes.

at that moment, a small silence filled the room, but oddly enough, it wasn't uncomfortable as some might have expected.

however, that silence and atmosphere were interrupted when (y/n) felt fingers glide over her cheek, the thumb tracing her cheekbone delicately. this caught (y/n)'s attention, causing her to remove her arm from her eyes.

—What are you doing?— she asked

—I'm looking at you, —Laurie joked.

—How silly, —(y/n) murmured, although she regretted it a bit when she noticed Laurie's sudden serious expression, with his head pointing towards the ground. With some effort, she managed to sit up at least, placing her hand on Laurie's shoulder to get his attention. —I'm sorry, I didn't mean to...—

—Don't worry, —Laurie interrupted, —it's not that —he murmured softly at the end.

—Then what is it? —(y/n) asked, confused.

with that, Laurie let out a long sigh that (y/n) could hear. she watched as he turned his gaze towards her. suddenly, Laurie shifted on the bed and slowly extended his hands, taking (y/n)'s hands in his. this gesture made (y/n) nervous due to Laurie's sudden actions.

—(y/n)...— he began, but the realization dawned on (y/n) about what Laurie might say.

—Laurie, no... don't do it, —interrupted with a disappointed voice, pulling her hands away from his.

—What? Why? —Laurie murmured, trying to take (y/n)'s hands again, but she kept them out of his reach.

—Because I know you love Jo, —(y/n) affirmed, noticing Laurie's surprised expression. —I know, —she murmured at the end.

(y/n) turned her gaze away, avoiding Laurie's eyes, while all he did was take the girl's hand again.

—Please, (y/n), please listen —Laurie murmured as he gently caressed her hand. —You're right, I love Jo... but the love I feel for you is different, —he affirmed with determination. With his other hand, he gently held (y/n)'s chin, turning it so their gazes met.

laurie noticed how tiny tears streamed down (y/n)'s cheek. tenderly, he slid his thumb over her eyes, wiping away every trace of sadness he found.

—I mean it, —he murmured. —Why don't you believe me?—

(y/n) shook her head.

—I don't know, —she said between sobs.

—then let me show you. Let me show you that I'm serious, —he murmured, moving closer to she, their faces just inches apart.

laurie, being so close, could feel the warmth emanating from her. he could have joked that perhaps was embarrassed by the moment, but he chose to remain silent, not wanting to ruin the moment.

laurie tenderly held (y/n)'s face in his hands and began to kiss her gently. he started on her cheek, then moved up to her temple and placed another kiss, moving on to her forehead and then to the other cheek. as he did so, he noticed (y/n) starting to giggle. emboldened by the joy of the moment, laurie ventured to give her a sudden kiss on the tip of her nose, eliciting even more laughter and a warm feeling in his heart.

however, at one point, laurie stopped, fixing his gaze on a place he hadn't kissed yet.

(y/n) noticed and warned him.

—If you get sick, Laurie, I'm not going to take care of you —she said, staying just inches away from him.

laurie could only smile as he let his lips meet hers. In that moment, it didn't matter if he couldn't get up tomorrow. All that mattered to him in that moment was what they were sharing.

they both pulled away in search of air, although they kept their foreheads together. In that small space between them, the rapid beating of their hearts resonate like a shared echo of intense emotions.

—i don't care —murmured laurie.

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↳ Note: I made this little one-shot a long time ago and I never could finish it, I always had it as a draft. Also, I saw that the theme of the 'little women' had already gone out of style. So, I didn't want to upload it.now i want to cry ↳ p.s: I just noticed that this has a lot of (y/n) and a lot of Laurie. :D I'll try to improve and not to put so much (y/n).

#little women fanfiction #little women #jo march #laurie laurence x reader #laurie laurence #x reader #oneshot #one shot #fluff #fanfic #fanfiction #timothée chalamet #timothee chalamet fanfiction #saoirse ronan

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