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apolloanddaphnis · 11 months

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Speaking in Tongues

Part III

Disclaimer: There's smut that might make people uncomfortable. Not proofread.

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We ended up parked behind the Hollywood sign around 4 in the morning.

The heat was on in the car and the seat warmers, it was nice and toasty. Timothée's seat was reclined all the way back and I had somehow made it so I was sitting comfortably sideways in his bony yet comfy lap. My fingers were buried in his Hershey's chocolate curls, as his big ring adorn hand rested on my hip beneath the borrowed shirt that smells like him, his finger toying with the band of my thong. His face rested in my cleavage, he even undid more buttons so he could feel my bare flesh pillowing his cheek.

It felt comforting and erotic being this close to him, as his other arm was wrapped around my waist to keep me close, I realized I didn't think I had such a wonderful cuddle like this one.

He let me choose the music and I signed into my Spotify on his phone. I Go Crazy by Flesh for Lulu played beautifully through the speakers of his Tesla. As I gently massaged his scalp, I allowed my ears to be caressed by the lyrics of the song.

This city's mad in the head

And sick in the soul

All the stars flew away a long time ago

Isn't that nice

Like Miami Vice

I go crazy when I'm without you

Well your life is like an infants dream

It's like everything's on TV

You see your face in the mirror

Could it be your place in the mirror

And so we turn on the TV one more time

And we see that everything is fine

"This song is really good." He said. "The eighties seemed to have a lot of good hits, the kind that describe how you feel and you didn't notice you felt this way until the song came on." He rambled into my skin, the breath of his words tickling my flesh making my nipples hard and pebbled.

"Exactly, I don't think anytime was more expressive and emotional than the eighties, it was my favorite. I know that sounds so cliche and nostalgic, but I've always felt so out of place with this time." I explained as I rubbed that spot behind his ear that caused him to groan and me to smirk.

Postcards from Paradise from the same band played next, I sang along a little and softly. Timothée lifted his head from my cleavage smiling up at me toothy, I giggled and it was cut off when he nuzzled the corner of my lips, and kissed me there. He sat up a little more causing me to bounce a little in his lap. He squeezed my hips and sighed audibly into my throat before kissing there as well.

I giggled softly and rubbed his back, and he responded by licking my chin and kissing my mouth and oh my God. Where has this mouth been all my life? Why have I never been kissed like this? Why hasn't anyone massaged the shape of my lips, or curled them with the rolling of tongue and pulling with teeth as if trying to bring my mouth closer. It wasn't fast, it was slow, slow, sensual, and I barely felt it before he gently pried my lips open with his and he slipped that long muscle in. He licked my tongue and rubbed my lower back beneath the shirt before cupping my ass, fingers flirting with the strings of my thong.

He sucked on my tongue before stroking every cavern in my mouth with that skilled tongue of his, and took a ringed hand to gently grab my jaw gingerly. The kiss grew to be more intense and we pulled apart reluctantly because we literally couldn't even breathe anymore. His face was beautifully flushed, Rouge bloomed across cheeks and the bridge of his freckled nose.

My tongue hung out a bit and he stared at it with a soft, little moan before kissing me again, this time a little faster with saliva pooling. I squeaked and it was muffled, before hungrily kissing him in return, I wanted to kiss him so deep I wanted to taste what he had for breakfast.

He rolled his hips up against mine, pinning a barely covered crotch with his hard on that the sweats barely concealed. My eyes rolled back and he kissed my lips more before sweetly kissing my cheek and eyes. Then he sucked on my ear lobe like it was a gobstopper. I shivered and released a shaking moan, I was dripping wet staining his sweats as he fucked me through clothing practically. He then thrust his tongue into my ear. "Timothée!" I cried out.

He ripped his shirt from my body with such force I heard the expensive buttons clatter to the floor. His eyes zeroed in on my breasts and he grasped them and squeezed them. "These are so…fuck." He buried his face in them and sucked on my fawn colored nipples and sucked hard , teeth grazing as his mouth tugged on them painfully in a way that had me on the verge of an orgasm.

I watched him suck between the two with his eyes rolling back. I can't believe he was getting off from my breasts like this, he's so hot. I tugged hard on his curls and he snuck a hand below before ripping my thong off, it now laid in tatters on the floor of his car.

He laid back on his reclined seat. "Come on kitten, climb up."

I was dizzy and panting. "Huh?"

"Straddle my face."

My eyes widened. "I might crush you."

"Good, it'd be a hell of a way to go. I want those playboy, made for shorts thighs that are most likely the envy of every gymnast, to hug my head, forcing my face further into that sweet little cunt. I don't give a fuck if you're worried for some stupid reason, you haven't reason to be self conscious you're easily the most beautiful most sexually frustrating little sex kitten ever to be born. And if you don't sit on my face right now I'm going to punish you, I mean it."

I didn't see this coming, the unexpected dominant nature, the filthy praise. He was out of my wettest dreams.

I wanted to be so good for him, so I didn't waste a moment more. I hovered my dripping pussy over his awaiting mouth, and he grabbed my thighs and pushed his face up pressing his mouth to me, causing me to gasp. He then laid back down bringing my ass right to his face.

His groan vibrated rapturously against my pussy before he sucked on my labia with greed. I gasped and grinded down and thoroughly rubbed his tongue through every fold before thrusting his tongue inside of me. My eyes rolled back and rode his face more, his nose bumped against my clit and then he sucked my bud into his mouth and I couldn't wait, and when he slapped my ass so hard causing a wave of ripples thundering across my ass, I came so hard and so much and my eyes rolled back again and I felt like a doll that's voice box has been broken and I'm sputtering things on repeat. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!" I cried out, tears poured down my cheek in black from my mascara.

I slid down and pushed down his sweats into his anaconda of a cock sprung out almost cartoonishly. I was drooling, and it hit his thigh. His cock twitched and he whined. "Fuck." He gasped.

I reached down and rubbed my release from my pussy, I dropped saliva on his tip and took my slicked hand and rubbed my juices along with my saliva rubbing his cock with the organic lubricant. He bucked his hips almost violently. I watched in awe as I took my soaked hand and rubbed and kneaded his balls. I couldn't see his face since my ass was in his but hips and serpentine cock was telling me everything. I gently played with balls and stroked his cock, wet and lewd sounds echoed in the car playing along with Flesh for Fantasy.

I moved my mouth down to the puckered hole between his ass, I swirled my tongue around his rim and he made the most delicious whine of a sound. "Fuck, just like that you dirty girl" he groaned his voice going higher at the end.

I spat on his hole before sucking on it and he bucked again. "Holy fuck!" He gasped. I still was stroking his cock sloppily, as I sucked on his hole, my drool spilling before I pressed my tongue in and his cock was leaking spilling his cock. Wet, slurping noises mixed with his whining. I then moved my mouth off of his rim and took his cock in my mouth, he gripped my ass and thrust into my mouth before spreading my cheeks and I felt his spit on my hole, causing me to moan around his thickness.

He mimicked my motions from earlier, sucking on my hole and I whimpered against his shaft. Timothée didn't hold back any longer, he started fucking my mouth and I gripped his thighs to hold on, my nails dug into his skin as he sucked on my rosebud and proceeded to tongue fuck it as he slammed his cock down my throat. Tears spilled down my face as sloppy lewd sounds muffled my cries and his eager feasting.

I felt a single ringed finger move in stretching my back door entrance and I writhed, writhing like I was possessed. I choked on his cock and orgasmed just when he filled my mouth with his release.

He pulled me off him as he panted lazily, he gently patted my ass. "I'm not done with you, chouchou."

I felt boneless but was being pulled about, before I knew it he had me on his reclined seat with my bruised nipples pressed against the cooling leather. He spread my legs and slapped my ass hard, when I let out a yelp he slapped it again and harder before grabbing it roughly in such a dizzying manner. He bit my cheek hard and I let out a sob before I melted into a moan. He bit my other cheek and I gasped. I knew I was going to be black and blue later. I shivered when he rubbed my dripping pussy before forcing two fingers in deliciously.

"F-fuck!" I stuttered.

"Jesus, wet little fuck doll. Feel that? You love this don't you? Love me destroying this perfect made to order body. You want me penetrating you in every sense of the word, no one else just me?"

I could hardly answer so weakly nodded, but he wasn't having that. He bit my ass so hard and clung to the seat lurching forward. "Answer me, chouchou, je l'exige!"

He's bossing me around in French? Was I dreaming? Did I get drugged and induced to this alternate reality like my own Wonderland?

I love it, I love this, I wanted his name etched into every part of me.Timothée, Timothée, Timothée, Timothée.

He didn't demand me in harsh tones or a darkening voice, every command in French or English has been in gentle chastising, stern and soft, almost lazy sounding, with a threat beneath.

"Shit, look at that pussy glisten, you like me roughing you up? You're a doll that likes to be played with so hard she breaks? More Bratz than Barbie?"

"Yes!" I cried out, his words pushing me toward another orgasm.

"There's her voice, thought I lost it, don't ever not speak again baby. " He pressed against me, that weapon he calls a cock sandwiched between my ass like they're a pair of buns and he has the hot dog. He kissed my neck gently, his ringlets brushed against my skin. "I always want to hear your pretty voice, it's the most gorgeous sound in the whole word."

I almost cried at his saccharine words, no one has ever spoken to me like that.

"Yes, Timothée. "

"You're so good, so sweet, now are you going to be a good little whore and let me in?" He slapped his cock against my weeping hole. "Just gonna be a whore for me? Open your pussy for me?" He bit on my neck making me whine. "Shake this fine ass for me?" He gripped my ass making it jiggle. "Be good please" He pleaded and sniffed my hair. "Shake it for me as I impale you with my cock, I've always dreamed…"

The fact that I have starred in his fantasies, I couldn't believe I was that high on someone like Timothée Chalamet's pedestal. He pushed inside me slowly, and I felt him so deep in, tip brushing close to my cervix, I felt brain dead. Once he bottomed out he placed his hand on my abdomen where I could see his outline of his dick, holy fuck.

Remembering his pleas, I moved my ass bouncing it back on his cock provocatively. He groaned his hands held onto me possessively, his breath panting in my ear as he pinned me down with no way of me escaping as he fucked into me. His balls slapped against my pussy lips. "Good girl, good girl. Fuck that's it, best ass in the world, best pussy, so tight!" He gasped as he pounded inside of me faster, obscene sounds of our affair overpowered the volume of our Playlist.

I whined for more. He was thrusting so fast and so hard, stretching me more than I've ever been and the delicious pain of him hitting my cervix pulling me into a state of bacchanal frenzy. I couldn't ever cum unless I felt a bite of pleasure, he knows my body so well like he owns it. He bit the back of my shoulder sinking his teeth in and I gripped his cock, choking it with my pussy.

He sobbed out into my ear, pounding faster and faster, my eyes crossed, my tongue fell out and unintelligent words spilled from my mouth as I squirted and made a mess on his cock and his expensive car. I felt him fill me and fill me, no way could anyone have this much cum? It hasn't ended, I suddenly for the first time desired cumflation, to show physical evidence of where it all went.

"I-ung-ngh!" I got out and he laughed maniacally, lost in his own state of euphoria. "Fuck that's right, take it. Sois une gentille fille pour moi, prends tout mon petit chaton crème. Laisse-moi te posséder, te posséder, et je t'adorerai, je ferai tout ce que tu voudras. S'il vous plaît, s'il vous plaît, s'il vous plaît, putain!"

He finished his last ropes, with a loud outcry. We cried together and he collapsed against me. His cock still in me was still hard even though he panted like he climbed Everest when he just climbed me. "One more time please…one more time before I take you home."

I was beyond exhausted, everywhere was sore. I would need an Epsom salt bath, 3 200mg ibuprofen, and cotton underwear. No way could I take another around. "Okay, just one more."

@sufferingstarlight @meetmyothersouls

#timothee chamalet #timothée chalamet #timothée chalamet x oc #timothée chalamet smut #smut

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lixzey · 7 months

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Can't Help Falling in Love.

Info: This is my first timothée x oc fic.

Angelisse Emmanuelle Evans is a girl who seems to have everything—a booming career with a promotion on the way, a family that adores her, and a long-time boyfriend who just proposed marriage. Everything was perfect until she discovered that she's actually already married—with a legitimate marriage certificate. The husband turns out to be Timothée Chalamet, Hollywood's Golden Boy hearthrob. Angelisse seeks Timothée out to convince him to help her get an annulment.

Under the neon lights,

I think we might get married in Vegas.

February 13th, 2022

In the vibrant and pulsating lights of the night, Angelisse Evans stood at their table while her friends danced the night away. Tonight was her best friend's bachelorette party.

“Come on, Angel, loosen up!” The bride-to-be, Kate, pushed a shot of vodka in front of her.

Angelisse rolled her eyes at her friend. She had never been the life of the party, to say the least. She was the type to hang back and watch—maybe dance a bit, but never really let loose.

“And get a terrible hangover the next day? No thanks.” she said, pushing the shot glass away.

Kate wasn't taking no for an answer. She grabbed Angelisse's hand, led her to the dance floor, and urged her to dance. Angelisse hesitated, but then something took over, and she started to move to the beat. She was surprised to find herself enjoying it.

The beat of the music was like electricity, vibrating through her body. The air was charged with the energy of the crowd of people dancing and mingling. The music was like a drug, and she couldn't get enough of it. Angelisse lost herself in the moment, feeling the energy flow through her body as she danced the night away.

As the night wore on, Angelisse found herself increasingly in the element. She and her friends had spent hours dancing and drinking. Angelisse let out a laugh and threw her head back, her long, dark hair cascading down her back. She knew she looked good, and she made sure to show it off, her hands tracing down her body and her hips swaying to the beat.

"You're glowing, Angel,” Kate said, sidling up next to her best friend. “Having a good time?” She cocked an eyebrow, but there was a playful spark in her eyes.

Angelisse laughed, feeling a rush of warmth inside. “I am,” she replied, raising her glass to her lips. “This night is just too good to miss.” She winked at Kate, her head feeling a little fuzzy from the alcohol. For a moment, it was as if she felt the whole world was hers.

“You know, you're a lot of fun when you loosen up,” Kate teased, nudging her playfully. “Maybe you just need someone to bring out the best in you.”

Angelisse stumbled into the bathroom, feeling dizzy and lightheaded. She went to a stall, trying to regain her balance as she went. She clumsily knocked into a man who was peeing in a urinal, and she stumbled, her face heating up and her eyes darting between the man and the stalls.

The man, with messy curly hair and green eyes, turned to Angelisse as she stumbled past him. He eyed her up and down, taking in her drunken state and disheveled appearance. “This is for men only,” he slurred out, gesturing to the urinal he was standing next to. “You're not supposed to be here.”

Angelisse looked at him, her eyes widening as they settled on his unbuttoned pants. She was drunk, but she couldn't help but take note of his boldness.

“The line in the female bathrooms—it's too long,” she slurred. “I really need to pee.”

The brunette stumbled into the bathroom, locking the door behind her. “Thank God.” she moaned out, the sounds of the toilet flushing in the background.

“Ouch, fuck, my feet,” she complained as soon as she stumbled out, stomping her heels on the tiled floor. “These heels are killing me,” she muttered as she tried to take off her heels.

“Miss, relax, okay? Let me do it.” The man with messy curls offered to help her take off her heels. “Miss, steady, steady, alright?” He knelt down and slowly removed her shoes. Angelisse moaned at the feeling, “Fuck, right there.” Angelisse moaned loudly, “Oh god, yes!”

After several minutes of painful struggling, Angelisse's heels were finally off and her feet were free. She let out a loud groan of relief.

“Oh, that's better,” she said, wiggling her toes and flexing her ankles. She looked down at the man who had helped her, and her breath caught in her throat. He was stunning, with soft brown messy curls, a jawline sharp enough to cut a finger, and piercing green eyes. And he had helped her with her heels! Angelisse felt her cheeks burn, her eyes darting down towards her feet, then back up to his face. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure.” the man smirked, watching her blush.

Angelisse felt a rush of adrenaline as she realized that this man was flirting with her.

“I'm glad that I could help.” he continued, his eyes glimmering in the low light.

Angelisse felt herself melt in his gaze. She opened her mouth to reply, but before she could say anything, he spoke.

“What's your name, miss?”

Angelisse felt the world stop. This man, this beautiful, perfect man, was asking her name! She felt like she was in a dream, and she didn't want to wake up.

“I'm Angelisse,” she said, her eyes shining and her heart fluttering. “And you are?”

“I'm Timothée.” He flashed a smile at her.

“Timothée,” Angelisse repeated, letting his name roll off her tongue. “It's nice to meet you.”

She felt her cheeks heat up, the alcohol making her more confident and brazen than usual. She twirled a strand of her long brown hair between her fingers, her hazel eyes glimmering as she looked up at him.

“So, Timothée,” she purred, a playful smile on her face. “What brings you here tonight?”

Timothée could feel his heart beating faster in his chest as Angelisse looked at him with those sultry, hazel eyes. He couldn't believe how lucky he was to meet such a beautiful woman like her, and he was determined to make the most of it.

“I'm here for the same reason as everyone else,” Timothée replied smoothly, his eyes crinkling in a charming smile. “To have a good time.” He couldn't help but add, “And maybe to meet someone special, like you?”

Angelisse giggled. “It's my best friend's bachelorette party tonight.”

“A bachelorette party, huh?” Timothée replied, his gaze traveling down Angelisse's body, taking every inch of her. “Sounds like a lot of fun.” He smirked, his voice husky. “I take it you're one of the bridesmaids?”

Angelisse giggled again, her hands running over her body in a playful and flirty manner. “I'm the maid of honor,” she replied coyly. “And I'm having the time of my life.”

Timothée couldn't take his eyes off of her, she seemed too good to be true. She was a goddess, and her playful and confident demeanor was like a breath of fresh air and an absolute turn-on.

Timothée couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so attracted to someone, and he knew he had to make a move. He took a step closer to Angelisse, his gaze never leaving hers.

“You're absolutely stunning, you know that?” he said, his voice rough with desire. “I'm one lucky guy.”

Angelisse felt her heart flutter. She had never felt like this with anyone in her life.

Timothée closed the distance and gently placed his hand on her waist. He could feel the heat radiating off of her body, and he knew that she was just as attracted to him as he was to her.

“Would you like to go somewhere more private, Angelisse?” he whispered, his voice husky. “I'd love to get to know you better.”

Angelisse felt shivers go down her spine at his words. She nodded, her eyes never leaving his, and followed him out of the bathroom and into the crowds. Timothée led Angelisse through the crowd, his hand still on her waist protectively. They reached a quiet corner of the club, and Timothée paused, looking at Angelisse.

“Is this private enough for you?” he asked, his eyes locking into hers.

Angelisse nodded, her cheeks pink from the alcohol and the excitement. “Perfect.” she replied, smiling at him like a lovesick teenage girl.

“So, what's your story? What do you do in life? Besides being impossibly handsome, I mean.” she asked as she sipped on her drink.

“I do stuff. What about you? Besides being incredibly irresistible, I mean.” he asked with a smile.

Angelisse giggled, her eyes shining with flirtation. “I'm a financial consultant.” She exaggerated, her words coming out slurred because of the alcohol.

“I've never seen a girl as beautiful as you are.” Timothée smiled as he stared at Angelisse.

“Take a picture, it'll last longer.”

“Don't mind if I do.” Timothée chuckled, pulling out a camera from his jacket. He fumbled with it for a moment before pressing the button and capturing a photo of her.

“You're a goddess, baby girl.” Timothée chuckled, his hand on Angelisse's leg.

“Let's get out of here,” Timothée whispered in her ear. “I know a place where we can have some real fun.”

Angelisse stumbled after him, a look of excitement on her face. Despite their drunken state, she felt like she was on top of the world, with the most gorgeous man in the room at her side.

“Lead the way.” she giggled.

“Oh, baby, I think I'm in love with you,” Timothée continued, his hand in hers. “Marry me?” Timothée asked, stumbling forward.

“Think you can handle me?” she purred, her hand brushing against Timothée's cheek flirtatiously.

Timothée smirked at her, his eyes twinkling. He loved a challenge, and Angelisse was definitely that. “I can handle anything you can dish out,” he replied, his voice full of confidence. “But the question is, can you handle me?”

Angelisse returned his smirk, her eyes sparkling mischievously. “I can handle anything, babe,” she replied. “And I'll bet you can't handle me at all.”

“Well, I know this little chapel on the boulevard we can go to.” Timothée smirked. “No one will know.”

“Let's do it,” she replied, her eyes shining in the night light. “Just for tonight, just for the fun of it.”

Angelisse had never done anything like this before, but she was ready for anything.

Timothée's heart skipped a beat. This woman was intoxicating. She was a fire that couldn't be tamed, but he loved every second of it.

“Let's do it!” Timothée smiled like the Cheshire cat, grabbing her hand and pulling her along.

They found the chapel, and Timothée led her inside. They giggled as they stumbled through the church, giggling and kissing. They knew they shouldn't be there, but they didn't care. They were living in the moment, completely and utterly reckless.

12:30 AM, February 14, 2022

“Do you take-”

”I do.” Timothée smiled like the Cheshire cat, his hands in hers.

“Do you take-"

“I totally do!” Angelisse giggled.

“Wow, you two are in a rush to get married, huh?” The officiant chuckled, “And by the power vested in me by the state of Nevada, I pronounce you man and wife. You may now kiss the bride.”

Timothée leaned in, his lips meeting Angelisse's in a passionate kiss. He held her close, his hands roaming over her body as he poured all of his desire and need into the kiss.

Angelisse melted in his arms, her hands tracing over his body and tangling in his hair. She had never felt so passionate or so desired, and she wanted this moment to last forever.

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palettesofrenaissance · 3 months

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I don't know if AO3 says it yet, but my second attempt of venturing into Dark Fic/Dark AU territory was just posted, if anyone is interested. Sequel to Permanent Marker

@dragonmaiden79 @sarifinasnightmare @idontgettechnology

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imnotoverlyobsessive · 7 months

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Moodboard by @softhecreator

Mr. Chalamet

chapter nine: don’t be ridiculous

AO3 info one two three four five six seven eight nine ten eleven epilogue

All my work is 18+.

If only I could just read your cursive mind and know what you’re thinking, know what you’re needing, I can try by just guessing what’s inside. But it’s never that easy, so please come and tell me; are you in or are you out? Are you still searching for something you haven’t found? I know it’s hard for you, but you’re killing me right now, so will you love me or let me down?- We The Kings, Love Me or Let Me Down

Elle had a school trip early in the second semester. The week leading up to it had been so hectic for her that Tim hadn’t been able to come home, not even for a night. So when Elle finally left, Lea was beyond excited for some alone time with Tim.

The night Elle left, Lea was in the kitchen of their house, checking on the gumbo—Tim had never had homemade gumbo, which, as a Cajun, Lea found absolutely mind boggling, like, how could he go thirty-six years of his life completely gumboless?—when she heard the door open.

“Baby?” he called.

“In the kitchen!”

Footsteps, and then a contented sigh. “It’s so good to be home with you. What’s that smell, by the way?”

“Gumbo,” Lea informed him. “My mom’s is better than this will probably be, especially so young, but it’s going pretty good so far.”

“Young?” He sounded confused.

“It’s supposed to be aged a bit,” Lea explained, ignoring the steam as she stirred. “The older it gets, the better it is.”

“Like wine?”

She shrugged. “I guess.”

She heard him step closer, pressing himself against her back and wrapping his arms around her waist. She leaned into him, her eyes fluttering shut, almost in relief.

He kissed the top of her head. “I missed you.”

She hummed. “You just saw me earlier today.”

“I mean I missed being alone with you,” he amended. “Being able to hold you like this.”

She sighed blissfully. “Yeah. I missed it, too.”

“Remember the last time we were alone in a kitchen?” She could hear the grin in his voice when he spoke.

A smile twitched at her lips. “We’ve been alone in more than one kitchen on numerous occasions.”

He moved a hand down to her hip, squeezing it through the soft fabric of her house dress. “Maybe, but have I fucked you in the kitchen before?”

Lea exhaled slowly. “Not since the first time.”

“And certainly not in our kitchen,” he pointed out, leaning down and kissing her neck. “That won’t do, will it?”

She licked her lips. “N— no.”

Tim inhaled deeply, gripping her jaw and murmuring, “Tell me you love me.”

“I love you,” she breathed. Suddenly, she recalled something he’d told her just before they got together, the last time they were in a kitchen like this. “I love you, Mr. Chalamet.”

He froze, hands that had been hiking her dress up her thighs pausing in their movements. “Lea, you— you— fuck.”

Suddenly, she was spun around, his hands sliding into her hair as he slammed his mouth against hers. She let out a startled “Mmf!” before the sound turned into a moan.

He practically tore her dress in his haste to pull it up around her thighs, yanking his pants down past his hips in a similar manner. “Fuck,” he groaned, looking at her pale pink panties that revealed more than they covered. “Take those off, sweetheart.” When she didn’t manage it fast enough, he added, “C’mon, Lea. I own that sweet little body, don’t I, baby?”

“Yes,” she assured him with a hasty nod.

“Of course I do,” he murmured, yanking the hemline of her dress down along with the cups of her bra. He grabbed one of her breasts as soon as it was bare and fondled it roughly, his fingers squeezing hard enough to bruise. She hoped they did. “Gonna fuck you now. Show you who owns you.”

She kicked her panties aside, winding her arms around his neck to get closer to him. “You own me,” she promised. “I’m all yours.”

“I know,” he agreed softly, grabbing fistfuls of her ass and giving it a few good slaps for good measure. She yelped at the sting, the sound of half pleasure, half pain. He smirked when he heard her delight, smacking her breast right over her nipple. She moaned loudly as he watched her breast jiggle. “God, you’re so sexy.”

“Want you,” she whined needily. “Want you in me, please.”

“Poor baby,” he said condescendingly. “So desperate to get fucked. So desperate for me.”

“Yes,” she admitted.

He hauled her in closer, kissing her hungrily and backing her up against the kitchen counter. Picking her up and depositing her onto it, he didn’t break their kiss, reaching down to spread her legs so he could step between them.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he murmured against her lips, aligning himself with her entrance. “Lemme have it.”

She cupped his cheek, leaning back against the wall behind the cabinet, and wrapping her legs around his waist. “Want you to have me,” she told him softly. “I love you.”

“Love you, too, baby.” He pushed into her with a groan. “Fuck.”

“Exactly,” she giggled, twining her fingers into his hair.

He chuckled, leaning forward to mouth at her neck. “If you’re capable of making jokes, I probably need to fuck you harder, huh?”

“Mhm,” she moaned as he pulled out only to thrust back in roughly.

“Fuck,” he grunted. “Say it again, sweetheart.”

“H— huh?” she stuttered, dazed.

“Call me that again.”

Finally understanding, she managed, “Mr. Chalamet, I—“

“That’s it,” he practically growled. “Again, darling. So fuckin’ hot.”

“Mr. Chalamet,” Lea moaned, throwing her head back so it thudded slightly against the wall behind her. “God, yes, I want— I want—“

“What do you want?” he murmured, mouthing wetly at her throat. “Ask for the world and it’s yours. Just tell me what you want.”

“I wanna have your baby,” she admitted with a whine. “Please, I—“

“I know, Lea,” he told her, the gentleness of his voice at odds with his sharp thrusts. “Soon. Just a little bit longer, my love.”

“No,” she insisted. “Don’t wanna wait, want it now, I wanna have a baby with you right now, want your baby, don’t wanna wait, I want it I want it I want it I want it—“

“God, Lea,” he muttered, pulling her closer to him. “Patience, my greedy little girl.”

She shook her head urgently. “No, now.”

“Patience,” he reiterated firmly, fucking into her punishingly. “Much as I’d love to fuck a baby into you now, you need to finish school first.” He paused before adding, “And I’d like to be married to you before we have a baby.”

Lea froze. “You— you wanna marry me?” Her breath was caught in her chest as if she had forgotten how to breathe.

“Of course I do,” he murmured softly, kissing her neck. “My love, my sweet, darling girl. Of course I want to marry you.”

She cupped his cheek, pulling his face up to hers so she could press her mouth against his with urgency. “I wanna marry you, too, Tim,” she admitted, “but I wanna have your baby now. I don’t care that you’re already married. I don’t care that I’m still in school.”

“Lea,” he sighed in exasperation, the thrust of his hips slowing into more of a rocking motion than him fucking into her the way he had been.

“Please,” she begged. She knew he wouldn’t cave, so she added, “Please, Mr. Chalamet. Get me pregnant.”

Tim surged towards her, claiming her mouth again. “I will, darling,” he swore. “As soon as I can, I will.”

“Now,” she insisted, kissing him again. “Now, please.”

“You’re making it very difficult for me to be sensible, my love,” he admonished, still rocking into her, filling her deliciously.

“I don’t care if it’s sensible,” Lea informed him. “I love you. I want this with you.”

“You’ll have it, sweetheart,” he promised, cupping her face and stroking her cheek lovingly. “I’ll give you as many babies as you want. I swear I will. But I need you to be patient for me. Alright? Can you do that for me, darling? Please?”

She pouted. “I don’t wanna.”

“I know,” he chuckled softly. “As many as you want, love. Just be patient for me.”

“Fine,” she grumbled in annoyance.

“I just want what’s best for you,” he informed her.

“You’re what’s best for me.”

His lips quirked into a small smile, and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close even as he moved within her. “Soon, sweetheart. I’ll give you a baby soon, I promise.”

“Tim,” she sighed blissfully, leaning into him. “F— feels good.”

“Yeah?” he murmured with a smile against her hairline, leaning down to kiss her again. She arched up into his touch, her lips falling open in a soft gasp when he drove into her a little harder. “That feel good, darling?”

“Yes,” Lea breathed, her toes curling from how incredible it felt, the delicious way he was filling her. The countertop was cold against her skin, a sharp contrast next to the warmth of his body, his touch, but it was damn near impossible to focus on anything but the way he felt, the way he made her feel.

“Tell me you love me,” he prompted again, his voice soft and gentle but still commanding in that ridiculously—obnoxiously, really—way he always managed to pull off.

“I love you,” she told him without hesitation, and was immediately rewarded with his lips on hers. He rocked into her, sucking her lower lip between his teeth before slipping his tongue into her mouth.

“I love you, too,” he rasped out, sliding a hand down to squeeze her hip briefly before trailing back up to grip her breast. “God, you’re so sexy.”

She pulled his face closer to hers, kissing him hungrily as he fondled her breast and rolled his hips. “Please don’t stop.”

“I won’t,” he promised into her mouth, rocking into her slowly but harshly. “Not gonna stop until you cum, sweetheart.”

Lea whined at the thought of him bringing her to orgasm, at the way it felt every time he did. “Will you, please?” she asked quietly, her nails digging into the skin of his shoulders.

“You wanna cum already?” he chuckled softly. “Greedy little girl.”

“‘m sorry,” she mumbled, embarrassed.

“Don’t apologize, baby,” Tim panted, reaching between them to rub her clit. “I want you to feel good.”

“You always make me feel good,” she gasped out, arching into the way his touch shot sparks through her veins. “Fuck, that’s so good.”

“Yeah?” He bent down to mouth wetly at her throat. “You like that, angel? You wanna cum for me?”

“Uh huh,” she whined, her toes already curling from the pleasure. “I want— I want—“

“I know what you want,” he assured her lowly. “I know what you need. And you know I’ll give it to you, don’t you, love?”

Lea nodded jerkily. “I know.”

“You know I’ll always take care of my sweet girl.” He paused, inhaling sharply when he felt her clenching around him. “You’re getting close, aren’t you?”

She nodded again. “‘m gonna cum, Tim, I—“

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he murmured against her skin, rubbing her clit faster. “Cum on my cock. Feels so good when you do, so pretty when you cum for me.”

Her body tensed, her muscles somehow spamming yet unable to move, and she burst with a sharp gasp of his name.

“You feel so fuckin’ good,” he grunted, driving into her harder, moaning into her neck. “God, baby. I’m gonna cum inside you, gonna cum in this tight little pussy—“

“Yes, Tim,” she encouraged softly. “Cum inside me.”

“Fuck—“ he moaned, his thrusts slowly before halting altogether.

It took a few minutes for them to come back to themselves, and he murmured something inaudible against her skin between soft, sweet kisses.

“Huh?” she asked dazedly, blinking in an effort to try and regain her bearings.

“Said I love you,” he mumbled. “Love you so fuckin’ much, baby.”

Lea smiled blissfully. “I love you, too.”

Several minutes later, he was leaning back against the kitchen table, his long legs stretched out in front of him in a position that was far too attractive to really be legal, watching her as she righted her clothing. “Do you actually wanna have a baby now?”

Lea blushed. “I mean… I love you, so it’d be nice, but…”

“It’s not a good time,” he agreed, “but you’re right, it would be nice. Amazing, actually.” He sighed and changed the subject. “Have you ever been to LA?” The question was casual, his gaze lazy.

“No, why?”

“‘Cause you’ve got another couple weeks before your classes start back up. We should make use of them, don’t you think?”

Lea stared at him in disbelief. “You want me to come to LA with you?”

He shrugged. “Yeah, it’ll be fun.”

She squinted suspiciously at him. “And would you take me on the jet again?”

“You mean the jet with the private bedroom suite, complete with a shower big enough to fuck you in and a tub where you can ride me? That jet?” He raised his eyebrows at her. “Yes, we would be taking that.”

“Where would we be staying, exactly?”

He grinned. “I know a place.”

As it turned out, the place Tim knew was a house. As in he’d bought her another fucking house. If one could even call an 8,300 square foot estate on .33 acres a house. She did not call it a house, she called it a mansion. Or palace. Palace also worked.

It was almost mediterranean in style; with whitewashed stucco, exposed beams, and colorful tiling, their bedroom was the highlight. It had both patio and balcony access, as did their bathroom, and the whole house overlooked the coast. She felt like a princess nestled away in a palace by the sea.

They were only gonna be there for a couple weeks, planning on flying back to New York a few days before her classes started.

She was getting dressed one day, trying to fasten her bra. “Jesus Christ,” she grumbled in frustration.

“What is it, love?” Tim asked cheerfully, sticking his head into the walk-in closet she’d set her suitcase up in.

“My damn nipples are too sensitive for me to even freakin’ touch,” she griped. “This doesn’t even happen if I get my period, and it can’t be PMS anyway; my birth control fixes that.”

He stared at her with wide eyes, swallowing. “Weren’t, uh… weren’t you feeling nauseous when you woke up?”

“Yeah,” she grimaced. “Even coffee smelled gross. It’s weird, I love the smell of coffee.”

He continued to stare at her before finally deciding, “I’ll be back in a bit.”

Lea frowned, confused. “O… kay?”

“Take this.”

She looked down, examining the box he’d shoved into her hands. “You want me to take a pregnancy test?”

“Classic early symptoms,” he explained.

She shrugged. “Alright, I guess.”

Five minutes later, she was blinking at the little plus sign. She took another test just to be sure, this one labeled with words.

Pregnant

“T— Tim,” she called out shakily.

“Yeah?” He strolled into the bathroom, glancing over at her where she stood by the sink, staring at the tests.

“It’s positive,” he observed.

“Uh huh,” she barely managed.

“Holy shit,” he breathed.

“Yep.”

“You’re pregnant.”

“Yep,” she repeated.

Suddenly, he turned towards her and kissed her so desperately she was frozen for a moment. “You’re pregnant,” he repeated between kisses. “You’re pregnant, Lea. You’re gonna have my baby.”

She pulled back slightly, looking up at him in disbelief. “Are you… happy?”

“Are you kidding?” he laughed. “The woman I love is having my baby. I’m fuckin’ thrilled.”

“But— but we agreed we’re not ready,” she sputtered. “I’m still in school, Elle doesn’t know about us—“

He waved her off. “All that shit’s secondary. You’re having my baby. I couldn’t care less about anything outside of that.” He took a breath, thinking. “Shit, gimme— gimme a sec, alright? I’ll be right back.”

She followed after him, watching him over the railing of the balcony overlooking their bedroom as he rifled through a bedside table drawer. “What’re you doing?”

“One sec,” he said again. “Where is— ah hah!”

Turning around with a grin, he hid his hands behind his back and sauntered over to her again. “What is that?” she asked, confused.

Instead of answering her directly, he took a deep breath and walked up to join her on the balcony. “Lea,” he said slowly, “I love you. You know that, right?”

She furrowed her brow in confusion. “Yeah…?”

He nodded, and then he…

And then he lowered himself onto one knee.

Her brain short-circuited, her eyes widening. “Tim, what’re you—“

“Just… just let me talk, okay?” he pleaded softly.

“Okay,” she whispered, unable to really think.

He took his hands out from behind his back, revealing a small velvet box. “I meant to waist until everything was out in the open to do this, until the divorce was finalized, but honestly, I expected all of that to be done by now, and I don’t really feel like waiting anymore, so…” He took a deep breath, looking far more nervous than she was used to seeing him. “Okay,” he said, appearing to steel himself, “so here’s the thing. Things never worked with Lola. I’ve been in love before, yeah, but it’s never been like this.”

“Like what?” she asked, hesitant and unsure.

He tilted his head to the side thoughtfully. “Right, I guess? You just feel… well. Right. It’s like being with you is exactly what’s always been meant to happen. You’re it for me, is what I’m saying.” Another pause. “I’m in love with you. I know it’s complicated, and I know it’s probably inconvenient for you in a lot of ways, but I…” He sighed wistfully. “I don’t care about the consequences, honestly. I just want you. And now you’re gonna have my baby, so…” He opened the box, revealing a gorgeous sapphire ring that must’ve cost a fortune. “If you’ll have me, I would very much like to marry you.”

“T— Tim,” she stuttered out anxiously, “you’re already married.”

He shrugged. “Like I said, I don’t really care.”

“You can’t marry me if you’re already married to someone else,” she explained.

“Eh,” he waved her off. “Semantics. So it can’t be legal until the divorce goes through. Whatever. We’ll be married in every way that matters.”

Her head was spinning. “Is— is this just because I’m pregnant? You don’t have to ask me to marry you because of that, you know—“

“It’s not just ‘cause of that, no,” he assured her. “I did that once already. I don’t wanna do it again, and I wouldn’t ask you to marry me if I didn’t really, really want you to.” At her hesitance, he added, “And it’ll be legal as soon as we can swing it. Obviously.”

She felt dizzy. “Have you been planning this? Where did you even get that ring? When did you get that ring?”

“I got it a couple months back,” he admitted. “As soon as I knew I’d never want anybody else, I… I spoke to the jewelers at Cartier, and—“

“Timothée, you did not get me a freakin’ ring custom-made by your fancy jewelry buddies!” she hissed, astonished at the sheer amount of money he’d spent.

Tim pouted. “You deserve the world, and I want to be the one to give it to you.” He paused. “But, I mean, if you want something else or you don’t want to marry me at all—“

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she cut him off. “Nobody in their right mind would say no to that.”

He froze, appearing to stop breathing. “Does… does that mean you’ll… you actually wanna, like…”

“Of course I’ll marry you, stupid,” she told him, swiftly wiping away her tears before reaching for the ring with a shaking hand. “Gimme that.”

He smiled, gazing up at her with more adoration than she could really process, and slid the ring onto her finger.

Jumping back to his feet, he pulled her in for a kiss. She giggled, winding her arms around his neck, and the velvet ring box fell to the tiled floor.

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heythrrdelilah · 1 year

Text

Going The Distance || Timothée Chalamet x OC ||part 1

A/N- this is based on a dream I had the only difference is the OC and the fact the OC didn’t have a kid. In the dream I had my daughter who at the time hadn’t been born yet( she’s two weeks old now) but I hope you guys like this. It’s up on Wattpad already with three parts. I don’t normally do oc on here but I thought it more fitting since it was based on a dream. REQUESTS ARE OPEN

Warnings- language, fans dislike, possibility of smut in the future

Pairing- famous!timothee x non-famous!OC

I woke up to the sound of rain against the balcony attached to my hotel room. I turn to my phone and see the time was just five minutes before seven in the morning. I remembered that i had set an alarm for two minutes before seven in order to get a guardians of the galaxy ride group. I rolled over in the large bed i had to myself with my phone in hand and refreshed the screen for a good two minutes in order to snag the boarding group. Unfortunately, they went too fast and I couldn’t snag a boarding group. It didn’t crush me, as i work at disney and could try again at any point, i just never had any luck from what i remembered. I turned over and got a bit more sleep until my alarm went off again at eight in the morning.

After doing my makeup and getting dressed, I made my way down to the lobby of the Grand Floridian and searched for a Starbucks. When I discovered that the line was too long for my liking, I decided to just go to the one inside the park. I walked over to the monorail, wasting no time as I could see the line waiting for the monorail was long. While I waited, I scrolled through Instagram and before I knew it, it was time to board.

When I got to the connections cafe (another name for the park starbucks), I realized the line was too long. I took this as a sign to go spend a few bucks (and not use my reward points) and go to Joffrey’s Coffee. I stood in the relatively short line and browsed on my phone. The barista calls for next in line, me. I order my black iced coffee with three shots of hazelnut. I go to pull my credit card out but the barista stops me, “the gentlemen ahead of you paid.” I scrunched my brow in confusion. I looked behind me and there was a family behind me. “I’ll pay for theirs then,” I stated, pulling out a twenty dollar bill and giving it to the barista. She smiled and points to the pick up side. I walk over and turn to my phone once again.

“Did you just pay for their drinks?” I heard a mama voice come up beside me. I’m a rather shy person, and I would feel awkward looking up just to say yes. So I just nod, “paying it forward. Someone paid for mine.” The barista called out two names, one of them being mine because my order was so simple. I walked up to the window and grabbed my coffee. “They were a family you are one person. The point was for me to pay for the pretty woman’s coffee so she didn’t have to pay anything,” the voice continued at the window and followed me off to the side. “Well thank you-“ I started but stopped as my eyes wandered up to his face. Dark curls, ice blue almost green eyes, and chiseled jawline. He was wearing a blue t-shirt and black cargo type shorts. I couldn’t believe my eyes. “I appreciate the coffee,” I finished, starting to walk away so that he didn’t feel like I was lingering like a fan.

He followed, “don’t thank me. I caused you to pay double. You have a good heart.” I shrugged and sipped my coffee, “it’s just what’s right. I hope you enjoy your day at epcot!” I began to walk again but he followed, “I didn’t catch your name.” I decided then to stop walking away, as he was the one approaching me I already didn’t seem like a crazy fan. “I’m Delilah,” I answer with a smile. It’s hard to look at him in the eyes so I look at his thick eyebrows. He smiled, “I’m Timothée. If you’re busy or in a hurry I get it.” He hinted at the fact I was walking away twice. I felt a blushing smile creep up and I suppressed it quickly, “Im not. I just didn’t want to be a bother.” He smiled down at me and shook his head, “you’re not a bother I mean, I’m the one that is talking to you.”

I look over at the group of guys he was with as they laughed at something the other had said. I turned back to Timothée, “looks like your friends are ready to get a move on.” Timothée shrugged, “they can wait. I’m talking to you. Speaking of though, do you maybe want to join us? We have one of those tour guides.” I raise my brows in shock, “you met me in line like 10 minutes ago and you want me to join your vip tour?” He shrugged, “yeah. I do. You seem pretty. Pretty cool.” I shook my head and looked him up and down, “is this the same line you give all the girls at NYU and Coachella?” He threw his hands up in defense, a smile creeping up on his face. He ran his tongue along the inside of his lip, “touché. So you are a fan because you know all of this. No I haven’t used any lines. Most of the time they throw themselves at me. You’re different. I have to find out what it is.”

I rolled my eyes, “I am a fan yes but you don’t have to be to know all of that information. Plus, I never said I wasn’t a fan. I just didn’t freak out like you’d expect me to. I don’t get Star struck.” He laughed and nodded, “okay touché again. So, is that a yes?” I nod once and follow him to his group. His friends looked at us as we walked up. Timothee was quick to introduce everyone. His friend Jake had come along with two of Jakes friends, timothee had just met them a week prior. They all politely waved as he introduced me. “Actually Timmy, we really don’t need the VIP thing today. Do you mind if we take off?” Jake and Timothée shared a look that I couldn’t put my finger in exactly what it meant. Timothée nods and does a handshake with the guys before they walk off. “I guess it’s just us,” he rubbed the back of his neck turning to me.

“That looked planned,” I laughed, looking at the VIP tour guide woman, who nodded along with me. “It wasn’t. I swear,” Timothée laughed. “Well then it’s shitty for your friends to just ditch you,” I retort. He shrugged, “we’ve been together all week. I’ll be fine.”

The tour woman, a short woman with curly blonde hair in a perfect pony tail, introduced herself to me and we started the day. “So, where are we off to first?” She asked with a smile. Timothée looked to me, “where to?” I motioned towards spaceship earth. We got a quick backstage tour and were brought to the front of the line. “So where are you visiting from?” He asked as we climbed into our seat. “I actually live here. I’m the parks one of many media managers,” I answered, placing my bag between my feet. The ride started and after a few “what if the animatronics were alive” jokes, the ride came to an end. We met up with the tour guide at the exit and began walking to test track.

“So basically you help run the commercials and social media posts. That’s cool!” He exclaimed after I told him the details of my job. “Yeah. How about you? I mean where are you visiting from? You have a ton of movies coming out next year I thought you’d be too busy to come here,” I questioned, looking up at him as we walk. He laughed, “I do. Some of them were filmed a year or two ago. I just finished one and about to start filming for dune part two in about a week from today. I’m not a Disney person or theme park but Tyler convinced me to tag along with him and his friends. I actually have been having a lot of fun.” I felt my phone sound off a text tone and checked it quickly. It was my best friend and neighbor.

Chey: hey I’ll be off at 5. I’ll meet you at figment at 6. I brought a change of clothes lol

Me: yeah sounds good!

“So Dune part 2, that’s filmed in the same place Star Wars was over in Jordan right?” I ask, putting my phone in my pocket. He nods and shakes his hand, “kind of. The first one was. We are doing some scenes there but the rest will be in LA using a green screen. We will probably spend a week total in Jordan if we do everything right.” I couldn’t help but wonder if it was because of the harsh environment. We were lead through the building, Maria, our tour guide, answering questions we had along the way. Then we rode the ride. Timothée didn’t trust me when I said for him to hold onto the hat he had put on before the ride, so he had to use quick reflexes to catch it when the car sped up.

The heat had picked up a bit as we walked outside of the building. The summer heat I was used to, but Timothée was not. “Is there somewhere we can get a cold drink?” He asked Sarah. She smiled nodding, “any water, pretzels, Mickey ice cream and popcorn are complimentary to your VIP. I can take you to a stand.” She began walking us towards the world showcase. Right before where the paths split, there was a stand selling waters with the ice cream bars and a pretzel warmer to the side. The cast member smiled widely as we walked up, she must recognize Timothée because it wasn’t a normal customer service smile, even for Disney. She remained professional and gave us water and a pretzel that we agreed to share because it was large and we hadn’t even gotten to world showcase yet.

“Which way do you like to go?” Sarah asked me. I laughed, “is there any other right answer? Mexico of course.” She smiled nodding, “correct.” We began walking to the Mexico pavillion. “They have a margarita stand?” Timothée asked, downing his water and throwing it away. “Want one?” He asked, heading towards the line. I raised a brow, “trying to get me drunk, chalamet?” He laughed, “totally. No.” I laughed, nudging his arm, “yeah but I’m paying.” He shook his head, “I was supposed to pay for your coffee. This I got.” I shrugged, “we will see.” As we ordered and the cashier told us the price, I double clicked my watch to pull up the Apple wallet and pressed it to the card reader quickly. “No receipt thanks,” I smiled and wait for our drinks. “Not fair. That was too quick! I owe you lunch now,” he argued. I shook my head, “no. How’s the lemon?” I sipped my lime margarita.

We decided to look out at the showcase while we drank the drinks and talked. We got to know each other quite well, asking random quick questions. “So, are you not worried about someone snapping a photo of us and getting the wrong idea?” I asked as we stepped onto the boat ride. He scrunched his brows, “and what would be the ‘wrong idea’?“ He put air quotes around the last two words. As the ride began moving, I couldn’t help but notice his arm resting behind me on the long seat. Coincidental, him just getting comfortable for a soothing ride. “I just mean, you know how people are. They see someone famous in public, like Disney, with someone of the opposite sex and next thing you know the headline of Deuxmoi is ‘Timothée chalamet and mystery nobody on a Disney date’ or something,” I laughed. He furrowed his brows at me as the ride started moving, “why would that be a bad thing?” I placed a finger to my lips to shush him so people around us could enjoy the ride without us talking.

“I don’t have that many fans. I doubt there are even two here. If you’re so worried,” he mentioned as we exit the attraction. I shrugged, “I’m not worried but I mean, you’re you. You don’t need any more nasty rumors. Especially after the chlamydia rumors.” He shook his head, “I’m going to be straight with you, I’m not the best when it comes to reputation. I’m all cleared up from that stuff. But I don’t have the best… past. Most rumors you hear about me are true. Honestly it’s not as many people as the rumors say though. It was like 10 girls at NYU and three at Coachella. I just, I feel like I need to be honest with you.” I raised my brows and looked at him, “I appreciate the honesty. I’m not one to judge because I have a past of my own of similar instances.” It was true. He was brave for sharing this with someone he had just met, so if he trusted me, I could trust him.

We walked over to norway next. “This is your ancestors territory. Let’s try a treat.” He walked over to the bakery line, Sarah following us laughing. “It like a small percent of my ancestry but I’ll never say no to a treat,” I laughed. The line was rather long so we talked about our families to pass the time. His sister is an actress as well and I’ve even been watching her HBO show without even knowing it was his sister, but now that I know, the resemblance is uncanny. He learned that I came from a not so great background. Raising my brothers while homeless and taking care of my drug addicted parents. His dad is from France, I already knew, and his mom was a dancer. He had a pretty privileged childhood. His exs all were daughters of celebrities and most of his friends grew up like him. I already knew this would be a struggle in our friendship if it continues outside of this day.

“One Kringla and two Viking coffees,” Timothée ordered. I clicked my watch but he knew this time. He gripped my wrist, and despite him being honey, he was strong. He used his other hand to fish out his wallet from his pocket and give over his credit card. When she gave him the receipt, he released my wrist. “Unfair!” I exclaimed, smacking his shoulder. He shook his head with a smirk, “I don’t want to hear anything about unfair from you when you pulled the stunt at the margarita stand.” I made a mental note to pay for something else later as the cast member gave us our drinks and chocolate topped kringla. Sarah led us to a corner of Norway pavillion that wasn’t too populated so that we could enjoy our stuff in peace.

“I didn’t know these were alcoholic I’m so sorry. Please don’t think I’m trying anything,” Timothée attested the minute he took a drink of the Viking coffee. The look in his face was worry and embarrassment combined. I laughed, “I knew. That doesn’t mean I’m trying anything either, though. I just like this drink.” We shared some of the kringla and finished our drinks. As I went to throw away our cups, I pulled Sarah to the side. “Think we could get him to meet a princess?” I laughed. She looked back at an unsuspecting Timothée and turned back to me, “totally. I got this.” She waited for him to walk over from washing his hands and smiled, “so we are going to get in line for my personal favorite attraction here in Norway. I’ll make it a surprise though.” She lead us over to where Anna and Elsa were meeting. As VIP we were able to skip the line. When Timothée spotted the photo ops he laughed. “Alright good one guys,” he laughed towards us and waved at the women. They were graciously talking to him about Olaf and then snapped a photo. He insisted I get in a photo with him at least once. “This next attraction is an actual attraction,” Sarah laughed pointing to the frozen ride line.

“So, if you like roller coasters, you’ll have to go to universal at some point. Don’t tell my bosses this but I prefer universal over Disney,” I laughed as we sat down in Germany for lunch. Timothée nodded, “okay. I’ll make a call to my agent and see if I have time this trip. To extend my trip. Only if, you can get off work for the next few days.” I raised my brows, “are you sure you want to spend so much time with me? You did just meet me. I am a handful of annoyance at times.” He laughed shaking his head, “so far you’re not annoying. I’ll take my chances.” The waiter came over and took our orders.

“So what hotel are you staying at?” I asked as we made our way to the France pavilion. “Grand Floridian,” he responded. I raised my brows in shock, “small world. I’m staying there too.” He scrunched his face in confusion, “I thought you lived here?” I nodded. Not everyone understands Disney or Theme Park culture. We like staying in the hotels on occasion so we get the vacation feeling. “It’s a staycation. It’s a theme park adult thing. It’s like treating ourselves. I’m only staying until the morning though,” I answered as we stepped into France. “Look your people,” I teased nudging him. He laughed, “guess I should start speaking French, right? But I too am only staying until the morning. Speaking of-“ he turned to Sarah and she brought us to a quiet area. He pulled out his phone and started speaking to someone. He walked far enough away from us that I couldn’t hear him.

“So my agent says I have time to push back a few more days so she’s changing my flight as we speak,” he stated as he returned. I felt a twinge of excitement creep upon my face. “So, what hotels are good at universal?” He asked, pulling out his phone. We found a bench to sit at in the middle of the pavilion. “Portifino. It’s their top deluxe resort. It’s my favorite. I have a passholder discount you can use there too if you want. You get express passes when you stay, but I don’t think you’ll need it because they’ll want someone to escort you around,” I respond, taking his phone and typing in the website. “Okay cool, no need for tour discount but help me book it miss expert,” he states, getting close enough on the bench to rest his head on my shoulder to look at his phone. I felt butterflies in my stomach and tried hard to ignore them. I’ve seen interviews, he does this with all of his friends.

“No get two rooms or two beds. Two beds,” he states as I clicked onto a single bed room. I remembered he brought his friend, “oh yeah I forgot about Jake and his buddies.” He shook his head at me, “I texted them to see if they wanted to stay but they have things to do in New York tomorrow when they get back. I figured if express passes or whatever you should have the opportunity to have that too so that you’re not waiting in line while I’m already done with the rides.” I shook my head, “I have express after four. Plus, you’ll have a VIP guide. You’ll be able to do things before I get there anyways.” He shook his head again, “no offense to Sarah, but I don’t want to do a VIP tour around the parks. I want to enjoy genuine time with… the parks. Go through the queues, you know? So book a room. Stay there with me. This way you don’t have to drive to the park every day.” I shook my head at him, “it’s okay. Seriously.”

“Just get a second room. I know sharing a room might be weird for you,” he argued. “It’s not that. Two beds is fine but I’m paying for food from here on out,” I gave in. I clicked on the two bed room and pulled my wallet out from my bag. I was giving the passholder discount regardless if he liked it or not. I allowed him to place his credit card information and the hotel was booked. We then rode the Ratatouille ride and move on to The UK for some fish and chips as a snack.

“So we are heading over figment after this right?” I asked Sarah. She nodded. It was perfect timing. “I was supposed to meet my best friend after she gets off work. That’s in ten minutes. She texted that she’s on her way to figment actually. I’ll see you around,” I waved as we reached the ride while I explained. Timothée grabbed my wrist and dropped it quickly, “she can join us.” I shook my head, “I wouldn’t want to impose. Or make you feel like a third wheel.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He handed it to me, “put your number in so I know you’re not bailing on me tomorrow. Maybe we can all meet up for drinks tonight even. Since we are staying at the same hotel anyways.” after typing my number into his phone, handing it back to him, I walked away, “maybe.”

Cheyenne was sitting in front of the building for figment, standing up when she saw me. “Who was that?” She asked immediately. I turned to glance at Timothée who was standing in the distance on the phone, “you won’t believe me if I told you. Let’s go journey our imagination.” I walked into the ride queue. “Who was it? Here I was thinking you were alone most of the day which is why I came after my busy work day. Then I find you walking around with a mystery man rich enough for a VIP guide?” She smacked my arm. I shrugged, “maybe you’ll see later. For now I’d like to keep the mystery. You were able to get into the room okay?” She nods once, “I have to be up early for work tomorrow so it’s nice being able to just take the monorail versus driving through Orlando traffic. My boss let me park my car in cast member parking overnight.” I shrugged, “you never have to thank me.”

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

When we got back to the hotel, it was about eight in the evening. We only stayed in the park for two hours after figment and got dinner. We walked through the grounds to our building and then to our room. I let cheyenne have the shower first, which she went for the minute we walked through the door. I lay on the bed and check my phone. Timothée had texted me almost half an hour ago.

Unknown: the guys and I are heading to trader sams I think it’s called. It’s over at a different resort. If you two want to come we would love that.

Me: cheyenne has work in the morning.

Unknown: oh okay! You guys don’t have to drink. If you want just come hang out!

Me: I’ll see you tomorrow

I saved his number in my phone and rolled over to turn the tv on. I watched an episode of supernatural that was on tv before cheyenne was out of the shower. I took a quick shower and returned to bed. “So who is Timothée. Is he the guy you were hanging out with? I love that your phone autocorrects that name to be like Timothée chalamet. You talk about that guy too much if you’re phones doing that,” cheyenne tossed me my phone. I threw my pillow at her, “don’t snoop! But yeah… so he is Timothée Chalamet.” She went into a laughing fit, “yeah. Right. Funny joke. Seriously though who was that? They want us to go meet up with them but you turned them down.” I shrugged my shoulders, “I told you earlier you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” She pushed herself off the bed, rummaging through her backpack. I asked what she was doing as she began to change back out of pajamas. “Well I don’t believe you. So, if it is Timothée chalamet, you won’t try to stop me going to find proof at trader sams,” she answered. She threw me my shorts and a t-shirt from my suitcase. “I already took my makeup off. You have work in the morning,” I argued. She rolled her eyes, “I knew it wasn’t Timothée.” I shrugged and scrolled through my Disney app. I went to my photo pass section and waved her over. She sat next to me on the bed. I scrolled through the Anna and Elsa photos along with the ride photos that all automatically get saved into the app.

Her eyes widened and she smacked my arm causing a large stinging sensation, “you’re telling me you’ve been hanging out with Timothée chalamet all day and you didn’t think to tell me about it? And you rejected him for drinks? Was he an asshole?” I shook my head. She failed to think that if he was an asshole I wouldn’t have stayed with him all day, but this was crazy news so her thoughts were clouded. “I am genuinely tired. You have work and we already got un-ready for the day. Plus, I’m spending a two more days with him at universal,” I let out as she began putting her pajamas back on. “So that’s why you texted him that you’ll see him tomorrow,” she realized, sitting back down on the bed. “Yes. Now, let’s go to bed. I’ll tell you all about it when we wake up,” I rolled over and turned off the lights, not giving her time to argue.

Click to go to part 2

Click here to go Back to Timothée Chalamet Masterlist

#timothee chamalet #timothee blurb #timothee chalamet x you #Timothée chalamet x oc #timothee chalamet imagine #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee chalamet fanfiction #timothée chalamet #timothée chalamet x reader #Timothée chalamet fanfic

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lilmaymayy · 4 months

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im sorry but theres nothin i hate more than xocs in an xreader hashtag😔😔

ITS FINE IF THERES OCS IN THE FIC BUT THEY BETTER NOT END UP W MY MAN

#thats why im readin the fic bae #to see me have my happy ending w my man☺️#not to see this blonde blue eyed oc have him😞#i prmose you your fics will be read #BUT NOT BY ME IF THEY AINT TAGGED CORRECTLY 🙏🙏🙏#have a great day #she speaks🗣️#remus lupin x oc #timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet imagine #finnick odair x reader #timothée chalamet #peter parker x reader #finnick odair #timothee chalamet x reader #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin #the hunger games

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bonesandchalamet · 8 months

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I miss you I’m sorry - t.chalamet

pairing: Timothee chalamet x reader

warning: just some fluff and missing Timmy + v short work sorry!!!

requested: y- “hii, i was hoping you could do "anytime without you is far too long" with timothée?? i got it from a prompt list but i can remember which”

it’s only been a week, and if you ask him it feels like far too long.

it’s cliche of him to say he’s beginning to forget what your laugh sounds like or how your hands feel against his, but it’s all true. a week away is destroying him.

and it would be safe to say it’s not doing wonders for you, as you’ve resorted to his clothes and sleeping on his side of the bed just to get any little bit of him that you could. while humiliation should be reminding you how embarrassing this is, you don’t feel it at all. you feel the comfort of Timothee that’s left in the sheets and his clothes.

the smell of him begins to linger now. unlike it’s previous full force of smell, only a whiff of him could be inhaled now that you’ve spent the past seven days in his things. irritation was growing as the number of days away seemed to increase, and timothees inability to answer his calls was adding up. you just missed him. was that selfish?

the infinite amount of text and voice messages fill up his Notification Center leaving a smile on his face, as he collapses into the chair to read through them all.

his smile widens reading your messages, they were texts you knew you shouldn’t bother sending, but you know he reads them. even if he hardly has the chance to reply, you know at some point he sits down and sees them all.

you: it’s only been seven days and I miss you. is that silly? anyway, I know you’re busy xx

Timothee: never silly. anytime without you is far too long. be home soon.

and soon enough he was. with a tired smile and a hug that could last a lifetime, he came home and life was finally good again.

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noodleslugworth · 2 months

Text

Absolutely NO minors

Headcanon that Willy Wonka likes to be choked

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

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

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

Just Willy and choking ❤️

(By @palettesofrenaissance)

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bluetimeombre · 2 months

Text

Masterlist .ೃ࿐

Welcome to the circus

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

「 ✦ ACOTAR ✦ 」

✧.* Azriel

And I wouldn't marry me, either. ✧.* part one. part two.

You're Azriel's mate, but it took losing you three times for him to realise.

Winter Solistice coming soon...

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

˚ · . Tom Blyth

Falling out of love.

Fans think that you and tom are falling out of love after filming for ballad of songbirds and snakes and you don't post about each other much, so you show them that it's far from the truth.

Third times the charm.

Tom and you met over zoom whilst auditioning for your roles in the ballad of songbirds and snakes. Instant attraction and the chemistry was off the charts, everyone could see it, even you two fools. In every interview you did, as co-stars, as best friends and finally, as a couple…

Cowboy like me.

Your band has a new single out and a certain actor stars in the music video. Sparks fly just as high as rumours.

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

♡･ﾟ Timothee chalamet

₊˚ෆ Wonka

Daisy, oh my Daisy

₊˚ෆ Timothee Chalamet

Call it what you want to (ft Tom Blyth). ₊˚ෆ. part one. part two. part three. part four. part five

Wanting you under the Italian sun.

You and Timmy have most been working hard. For the summer, they decide an Italian getaway.

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ Jacob Elordi

She's like a shot of espresso

You work in a coffee shop and suddenly Jacob is a coffee enthusiast

Cardan Greenbriar coming soon...

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valsarchives · 10 months

Text

we belong together - t.c.

Timothée Chalamet x OC

a/n: so this is my first time posting x OC AU and I’m kinda nervous but yeah, enjoy!

miramelbourne

liked by tchalamet, zayn, henrycavill and 17,284,174 others

miramelbourne what a night

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tchalamet what a night indeed.

miramelbourne 🤠🫦

miramybaby what do you mean miss?????

timirastan ok mr. and mrs. we-talk-so-secretly.

miralotheefan we need to know what happened that night 😩

user_28438 are they dating?

timmyxmimi well, there is nothing confirmed but we hope they are because they’re so good together 🫠

randomuser she’s dating with Ben Barnes

timotheefan15 bro what 💀 they’re besties

mirasbabygirl You SLAYED as always 💅🏻

kissmemira My lady looks so sexy as always 🫦

msmelbourne 🛐🛐🛐

tchalafann she’s so fine 😮‍💨

zendaya i missed you like crazyyyy

miramelbourne me too baby me too 🥲

timmytimmy hey sexy 🥵

pauline.chalamet what a woman

miramelbourne making me blush I see miss chalamet

pauline.chalamet 😏💋

tchalamet 🤠

miramelbourne no need to be jealous t

tchalamet oh I’m gonna show you who’s jealous

timmyfann AAAAAAAAAAAAA

timmyxmimi SHOW US TOO TIM

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tchalamet

liked by miramelbourne,stephanebak, zendaya and 13,395,285 others

tchalamet TC x MM for chaneloffical

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miramelbourne 😋

tchalamet 🫠

chanelofficial 🖤

tchalafann parents!!!

timmytimmy oh, look at my husband with his girl

benbarnes the second picture tho mhmmm

tchalamet challenge accepted mhmmm

benbarnes fight me boy mhmmm

chalafann LMAO MHMMM

miralotheefan we see ur jealousy boy mhmmm

miramybaby ATE AND LEFT NO CRUMBS

kissmemira ok but can you guys admit that ur dating already so i can live in peace 🙄

stephanebak i love this

timmyfan04 our guy pretty like a girl 😭

mirasbabygirl the iconic chanel couple 🙌🏻

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miramelbourne

liked by tchalamet, chanelofficial, benbarnes and 19,285,976 others

miramelbourne MM x CC chanelofficial

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tchalamet Ladies and Gentlemen… Miranda Janelle Melbourne.

miramelbourne 🥰

chalametfann we love the man who always supports his girl 🥹

zendaya marry me😡

miramelbourne when? 💋

tchalamet such a fangirl

zendaya yeah, what about it?

chanelofficial love this look 🖤

miramybaby MIRANDA MELBOURNE WORLD DOMINATION

timchalfan Hopefully we'll see her again at the Venice Film Festival! She’d slay as always.

msmelbourne we will girl it’s confirmed!!! 🥹

mimirayray ICON!!!

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mirandaupdates

8,395,174 likes

mirandaupdates my babies 🥹🥹🥹

via tchalametnews on Twitter.

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msmelbourne she’s also wearing his cap and sunglasses 😭

randomuser i wonder how she’s allowed to wear the stuff she wears, i mean not in this one obviously but she always wears revealing clothes and Timothée is a jealous man.

chalafann bruh he always supports her and he has no right to speak about what she wears, which is the fact that he’s aware, hell he probably wears even more revealing clothes than her lol. And Timothée is jealous yes, but not toxic.

timotheefan15 GUYS, GO LOOK FOR TIMOTHÈE’S LAST POST OMFG

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tchalamet

liked by miramelbourne, tomholland2013, florencepugh and 19,285,592 others

tchalamet It’s been a crazy journey, but you can't imagine how grateful I am to have you by my side. You’ve made me a better man since the day I met you. I’m so happy that you’re mine. I can never get enough of you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.

I promise you that I’ll make you the happiest woman in the world like you made me the happiest man on earth. And I want to raise a toast to that.

To us.

Happy 2nd anniversary my love, you’re my whole world.

p.s. i know i said i won’t post the first pic but i can’t help it you’re so cute :3

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miramelbourne WHATKDDJSKDJELFJFKK 😭😭😭😭😭

miramelbourne I THINK YOU JUST BROKE ME

tchalamet then come here and cuddle me

miramelbourne THAT’S SO CHEESY LIKE WHATTT

tchalamet hey!!

miramelbourne GOD I LOVE YOU SO FUCKING MUCH

tchalamet I love you more

miramelbourne YOU’RE FORGIVEN BTW

tchalamet 🥳

zendaya FINALLY

miralotheefan GIRL YOU KNEW?

florencepugh happy anniversary my babies 🥺

miramelbourne thank you love 💗

tomholland2013 we should celebrate!!

zendaya yesyesyes

tchalamet yep

benbarnes guess you won the challenge huh?

tchalamet as always 😏

henrycavill 🖤

*liked by tchalamet

chanelofficial Happy anniversary 🖤

*liked by tchalamet

timmyxmimi WHAT WHAT WHATTTTT

msmelbourne SO YOU’VE BEEN DATING THIS WHOLE TIME????? FOR TWO YEARS??????

timmytimmy BOYFRIEND TIMOTHEE CONTENT BOYFRIEND TIMOTHEE CONTENT 😩

mirandafann TWO YEARS EXCUSE ME??!!

chalafann I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU TWO DATED FOR TWO YEARS AND WE DIDN’T KNOW ABOUT THAT

miramybaby I MEAN HOW CAN YOU HIDE IT SO GOOD

timotheefan15 AAAAAAAH 💖💖💖

mirasbabygirl Mira you got him whipped for you girllll 🥹

kissmemira now we’ll see boyfriend Timmy?? 🥹💗

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miramelbourne’s story

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lainiespicewrites · 21 days

Text

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

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apolloanddaphnis · 1 year

Text

A Week in New York

Act I Scene III

Disclaimer: Gay sexual activities.

♡♡♡♥��♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♥︎♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♥︎

After that first kiss we couldn't keep our hands off of each other.

He wanted to walk through central park with me, but Timothée said the paparazzi and fans are much more persistent than the ones in Los Angeles. It's a foreign concept to me, growing up in L.A., you're friends with at least one person with a connection, they're just people.

He took me to his midtown apartment, it was exactly how I imagined it. Very stylish and a lot of black. I barely had time to look more for he had me against his wall next to a Pollock. The rest of the day went like that.

We forgot about lunch and food, just dining on the taste of his tongue and neck, teeth, and hair. It was eleven at night when we came up for air, and with a large intake of breath and a scratchy voice he declared himself famished, and ordered Chinese.

It was four in the morning when he reluctantly gave into my pleading to return to the west village to my cousins. I had texted Gianni, he knows of my whereabouts and with whom.

When I walked through the door from the uber that Timothée had gotten me, I rested my back against the door looking around my cousin's empty apartment wondering why the hell I left the warm lap of the actor.

I stripped down to nothing and headed into the shower that cost more than my rent back home, showering the day off of me in melancholy, washing away Timothée's greedy kisses and hungry grips.

The suds of my rose jam shower gel may have washed away his scent, the nail bites from my waist may have faded, but I couldn't wash away the memory of his touch, his mouth, his sounds and sighs…

My hand slowly moved down my smooth chest, taking its time down my belly, heading south to the naked skin of my groin. My fingers were too small to emulate his, but as I stroked my hardness, I imagined him anyway.

After a rather steamy shower, I cried. I'm so stupid, but I can't help it.

I gulped away the salty tears I swallowed. I just met him, we had a fairytale day for sure but to cry over the guy because I had to go was…stupid.

And then there was the doorbell.

What the hell?

What kind of psycho rings someone's doorbell at five thirty in the morning?

Apparently I have no self preservation skills at all, because I got up heading over to answer it. Well not right away.

I stood on my toes to look through the peephole, and gasped when I saw Timothée. He looked around nervously, hands in the pockets of his sweatpants.

I opened the door and he took in the sight of me in my yellow towel, noting how it didn't completely close around my thighs.

Nothing was said, he was just panting like he ran a marathon, his hands resting on the walls of the entryway as his thick eyebrows furrowed, his greenish Hazel eyes darkening as he stared at me.

He stormed forward and ripped the towel from my body as if it offended him somehow.

I squeaked as he grabbed my backside aggressively as he kissed me like his intention was to steal away my last breath. His tongue licked every cavern of my mouth, his thick hardness was only hidden by his sweats, stroked against my naked, dripping, hard cock.

He nipped my lip and sucked down my cheek, bit down my neck, licked down to my chest as she backed me up to Gianni's Philo sectional. We collapsed, with him on top of me and as he devoured my neck I helped rip off his clothes, eager to feel his soft skin against mine.

I felt brainless as his tongue and teeth worked on the sweet spot of my neck. I was completely distracted when he took his index and middle finger, and pushed them past my lips. Immediately, I wrapped my tongue around his ring adorn fingers, my eyes rolled back as I sucked them like I would to that huge cock of his. I felt a light tape against my cheek, my eyes focused up at his beautiful face, his flushed cheeks and swollen lips, his heavily hooded eyes. I felt our cocks twitch together, his overpowering mine. I tried to look down to see it but he tapped my cheek again. "Keep going." His voice was scratchy with ragged breathing. "Don't stop until I say stop. Nod if you understand."

I nodded, bobbing his fingers in my mouth. He brushed back my hair and slowly thrust his fingers deeper.

I felt him push his sweats down completely, I felt a thick, rock hard, nude piece of flesh slap against my stiffness and whined around his fingers. He smirked. "Look at you, such a good little boy. No hesitation, just sucked on those fingers so fast."

I felt him push them down my throat, I gagged a bit but kept going. His mouth parted letting a gasp of his own escape as his eyebrows furrowed.

He grinded his cock more against mine, I felt drippings onto mine, shocked that his head was already weeping. "I can't wait to see those fucking blow pop lips wrapped around my cock, would you like that honey? Have you thought about it like I have? Fantasized about the smell of my skin, creating a sea of saliva at my feet as I fuck that gorgeous face of yours?" His voice was breathy and the tone became deeper. He rubbed against me faster, oh God I was going to cum if he kept this all up.

My saliva soaked and dripped down his fingers and hands and abruptly, he withdrew his fingers from my mouth. I let out a loud gasp and coughed a bit. He grabbed my face, smashing his lips against mine.

As he sat back and pulled into his lap, he slapped my ass with a very wet hand before gripping the flesh painfully, oh it was so delicious. My thighs were shaking, my voice was quivering as he stabbed his tongue into my mouth. He pulled his mouth back with a loud smacking noise and a dirty, elongated mmm, before pushing me onto my back.

He hovered above just as naked as I am now, and I had the privilege of taking in his Apollonian physique. He's long, lean, with sinewy muscle, a perfect runner's build. Flawless creamy skin with freckles here and there, a thin fuzzy trail that guided me right down to the longest cock I have ever seen, with a nice, big sack supporting it. Saliva pooled in my mouth again.

He gripped my jaw. My damp curls only blocked my teary vision a little. With his grip, his ring held thumb gently stroked my soft jaw, his eyelashes brushed against his cheekbones. "Open." His thumb caressed my bruised bottom lip as he said the magic words, and I did, I parted my lips wide. Hungry for absolutely anything he was ready to give me.

His mouth hovered over mine, I watched his cheeks move as he gathered enough saliva to spit into my mouth. The string of spittle took some time to stretch down to my mouth, but when I tasted his wet spit in my mouth, I swallowed it so fast.

He groaned and humped against me. "You're starving for anything I got to give you aren't you? Absolutely greedy for me." He mused as he gently grabbed my little length. I bucked my hips with a pathetic whine. "So perfect, the perfect body. More beautiful than any man or woman, so sweet for me." He moaned as he stroked me, and I whimpered as I bucked my hips. "Look at you, all needy for me, humping into my hand my little baby." When he took his hand away I cried out.

But then he opened my legs, spreading the plump cheeks of my ass. I wiggled and he slapped my left cheek causing me to squeak. "Patience baby, be good for daddy okay?" It was a tender sort of sternness he spoke with.

I nodded and forced myself to relax. When he licked the skin between my pouch and rectum, I let out a choked cry and gripped the pillows on the sectional. Then his tongue lapped down to my hole and I felt myself pulse. I gasped and tugged on his curls.

He swirled his tongue around my rosebud, it was so hard to not squirm it felt so good it felt like nothing else I have ever experienced. Then he had the audacity to suck on my puckered hole, my cock twitched and I writhed beneath these physical attentions as he penetrated his tongue through I gasped. "G-g-gonna c-please- daddy!"

It slipped, I didn't mean to say the word but it just happened, and I thought I messed up when he removed his tongue from me. But he looked up at me with a wet chin and dark eyes as he pressed one wet finger inside of my entrance. I let out a sob as he wiggled it in deep, and then slipped in the second. Moving them in scissoring motions, knuckle deep and hitting my p-spot over and over. My eyes rolled back and my tongue rolled out. I couldn't think it was like my brain activity was just not there, he pounded his long, ring wearing fingers knuckle deep inside of me. I was sure my screams weren't even in English.

He pounded so hard my body moved and I was cumming hard it went everywhere.

My bones feel so heavy, I felt heavy. I couldn't stop panting and Timothée slowly, with a lewd wet noise pulled out those long fingers sucking them before licking up my essence from my skin. If he didn't stop I'd be overstimulated.

His soft lips kissed up my body to my lips as he pulled me into his arms against his body, his big hands moving down to my ass, as I fell against him. He kissed up my neck to my ear before sucking on my lobe. "Ready for something bigger in that mouth?"

#timothee chamalet #timothée chalamet #timothée chalamet x oc #timothee fanfic #timothee x reader #timothee x male!reader #faunlet

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lixzey · 6 months

Text

Can't Help Falling In Love

That's what you get for waking up in Vegas.

“What do you think happened? It was a crazy night.” Kate asked curiously.

“Kate, can you come by my place?” Angelisse asked with a shaky voice.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll be there in half an hour.”

Angelisse thanked her and hung up the phone. Maybe Kate could help her piece together what happened that night. Angelisse's head was spinning, how could she be so recklessly stupid that night? How could she let the alcohol take over her? It certainly wasn't in her books—getting married on a drunken Vegas escapade. Angelisse wanted to scream, she wanted to break every thing that was in her reach. This marriage—to an unknown man—would ruin her if it ever got out. She was engaged just days ago for crying out loud!

Angelisse paced around her apartment, the document still in hand. What was she supposed to do? The brunette slumped on the couch throwing the document to the side, and burying her face in her hands.

“This can't be real, please be just a nightmare.” It must be a nightmare, it can't be real. Angelisse's whole life she had been perfect in her mother's eyes, in her boyfriend's—now fiancé's eyes. And now here she was, in a complicated situation that may or may not ruin her perfect life.

Minutes later, there was a knock on her door. Her best friend was at her doorstep, a worried look on her pale face.

As soon as Angelisse opened the door, she flung her arms around her best friend's neck, “Kate, thank God you're here.” Kate stepped inside and looked at her worriedly, concerned for what she might tell her.

“What’s up?” Kate asked, looking at her best friend with curiosity.

Angelisse sighed before slumping on the couch again. She held the marriage certificate out for Kate to see. Kate took a look at the document, and her eyes widened with shock. “What the actual fuck!? You're married to Timothée fucking Chalamet!? How the hell did that happen!?”

“You found me on the pavement the next day, Kate! What the hell do you think!?” Angelisse let out an exasperated sigh as she sunk further into the soft white couch.

"Holy..." Kate didn't know what to say. She was shocked to say the least—what in the world was going on? Her best friend was married to Timothée Chalamet, the hottest actor to ever walk the earth! How the fuck did her best friend end up married to the Dune actor!?

“Angelisse Emmanuelle Evans, you little shit.’’ Kate muttered, her eyes still glued to the document. Angelisse, on the other hand, had her face buried in a pillow.

“I'm fucked. I'm dead.” the brunette mumbled into her pillow.

“You didn't know you were married until now!? God, this was a year ago!”

“You were the one who pushed me to let loose!” Angelisse argued, lifting her head up. “This is your fault as much as it is mine.”

Kate scoffed, “My fault? I told you to enjoy the night, not go off and get married!“ She rolled her eyes at her friend, before taking a seat beside her. “Tell me what you remember from that night. Don't leave out anything.”

Angelisse groaned, she didn't actually remember much, but maybe they could piece together what had actually happened. “I remember dancing and drinking my ass off. Then, I went to the bathroom. After that, everything's a blur.”

“Oh, baby, I think I'm in love with you,”

Kate thought for a moment, trying to remember anything from the night of her bachelorette party. “That’s… that’s it? Oh shit,” she muttered under her breath. "I remember you disappearing off to the bathroom. And we lost track of you for a while. You came back an hour later and told us that you were with a 'really hot guy'. No doubt that was Timothée Chalame, hence his name on this paper.” Kate explained, waving the marriage certificate in her hand.

“Marry me?”

“Well, I know this little chapel on the boulevard we can go to. No one will know.”

“I don't even know who that guy is! And now I'm fucking married to him!” Angelisse snapped. The only memories that she had kept rewinding in her head.

Kate couldn’t wrap her mind around the situation Angelisse had found herself in. A marriage to a guy that she couldn’t remember from a night of debauchery.

“Timothée Chalamet is a famous actor, you dumb fuck!” Kate said incredulously.

“He's what!?” Angelisse widened, “He's famous!?” she quickly whipped her phone out and searched for her husband on google.

There he was, the French-American award winning actor.

“One night we lose track of you, and you end up getting married.” Kate mused.

“I'm fucked. Absolutely fucked! James had just proposed and-”

“James proposed?” Kate repeated, her eyes widening in shock. Kate was dumbfounded. James, Angelisse's long term boyfriend, had proposed to her. They had been together for six years, with Kate's husband being the one who introduced the two, years ago. Kate looked at her friend, and her expression was both of shock and worry.

“Oh boy.” Kate muttered.

“What am I going to do now!? i'm getting married in a year and I'm already married to a fucking superstar!”

Kate fell silent. In all honesty, she didn't know what to tell her friend. She wanted to hit her and knock some sense back in her—Angelisse was always the sensible one—but now, the woman in front of her was utterly distraught.

“I guess you have two options.” Kate said finally, breaking the long pause. “You can go find Timothée. Find out what happened last February, find out if he even remembers this ever happened. But, what are the odds he even remembers? Get a divorce or annulment, whatever the hell that works.”

The reality was setting in for the both of them. The situation between Angelisse's unexpected marriage to the actor was not going down without problems. He was famous, and if word got out about his 'spontaneous' wedding in Vegas, both of them would get eaten alive by the media.

“Or I could make it as if it never happened.” Angelisse whispered.

“The situation would be slightly more…” Kate paused, “….messy, you know? With Timothée and everything.”

“But you’d never see him again. Or…” Kate was hesitant to say the rest of what she was thinking.

“Or what?” the brunette pressed forward.

“You tell James the truth,” Kate offered with a small smile, “I mean, divorce and annulment proceedings take months—years even. He'll find out eventually, and when that happens, all hell will break loose. Better to hear from you, right?”

She was married to Timothée Chalamet, famous Hollywood actor and one of the most sought after bachelors around. That wasn't a fact you could just sweep under the rug.

“He'll be so disappointed with me, you know how he is....”

“But he deserves to know.” Kate gave her a sympathetic smile, “Angel, would you rather have him find out the truth from you or from someone else?”

Angelisse looked at her friend. She was right, but she wasn't going to risk it. She had already done it, why not try to make it right? She thought about it, and it was basically cheating. But she at least had to try, right?

“I'm going to find Timothée fucking Chalamet and I'm going to get this fixed.”

Kate eyed her friend, an amused look plastered on her face. She and Angelisse had grown up together, their mothers being friends and all. In Kate's eyes, Angelisse was strong and independent, but James? He pulls her down—discouraging her friend every chance he gets, but Angelisse doesn't see that.

“Did you get his number? No, wait, of course you didn't, you were drunk out of your mind.” Kate sighed, shaking her head furiously. “You're one stupid bitch, you know that?”

“Just help me!”

“That's what you get for waking up in Vegas.” Kate smirked at the anxious brunette in front of her who in turn, glared at her.

“This is the worst day of my life.” Angelisse muttered under her breath.

“Check your phone. Maybe you saved his number or something that could help. I'll ask my husband if he can help.” Kate offered. “Get some rest, you're gonna need it.”

“Or the best, really. You're Timotée Chalamet's fucking wife!” Kate chuckled, playfully shoving her friend. “It's literally every girl's dream!”

Angelisse groaned loudly. “Not helping!”

Angelisse rolled her eyes. “You better keep this a secret.”

“Oh, I will.”

After a few more assurances from Kate, Angelisse was finally left alone in her apartment. She opened up her phone and started to scan each and every app on her phone for clues or if she was lucky, his number. Angelisse stopped in her contacts, there was an unknown contact. Instead of a name, it was all emojis. How had she not even seen this before?

🥵🥵🥵🥵

Angelisse fidgeted with her thumbs, still debating whether she should text or call the number. What if it was him? How the hell should she tell him that they were married—in Vegas, drunk and out of their minds. It was news that if they weren't careful, it would blow up in their faces in the worst way possible. Maybe more for him than for her, but that's besides the point. She needed to get this marriage annulled, divorced, or whatever it is just to let the issue die.

Angelisse sighed, before finally clicking on the contact.

Hi, is this Timothée Chalamet?

Though Angelisse didn't remember much about what had happened that night, her mind couldn't forget the most beautiful shade of green eyes she had ever seen. Remembering his eyes felt like a dream that she didn't want to wake up from. His eyes shone like emeralds under the neon lights. Angelisse's breath hitched and her heart skipped a beat.

The brunette tossed her phone to the side and just hoped for the best. Would he even answer to an unknown number? Would she even get the chance to fix this marriage that should've not happened in the first place?

Feeling the weight of the drama tiring her down, Angelisse slipped into the bathroom for a much needed bath. She needed to relax, even for just an hour. If he answered—which was a long shot given his status as a celebrity—she could convince him to end their marriage. They were only married on paper, surely Timothée Chalamet has his eyes on some sexy model.

Brushing off the thoughts of her famous 'husband', Angelisse slipped out of her clothes and jumped into the clawfoot bathtub. She hissed as soon as the hot water came in contact with her skin before settling in the warmth surrounding her.

She wondered about how her life would turn out after clearing the marriage issues and finally marrying James. It felt surreal. Getting married to the man who she called her boyfriend for the past six years. Deep down, she knew it wasn't the best idea. And yet, here she was, engaged and soon to be married.

Angelisse took a deep breath, collecting her thoughts. Her thoughts drifted to the handsome man with soft chocolate curls and mesmerizing green eyes.

“Damn you, Timothée Chalamet.”

Angelisse got out of the tub, droplets of water clinging onto her body. She grabbed a towel and dried herself off. The brunette walked back to her room and put on a white shirt and denim shorts before going back to the living room where her phone was. She sat down on the couch and opened her phone—searching for her husband on google, again.

Timothée Chalamet was undeniably handsome. Angelisse could't deny that, she would be an idiot if she did. He's got that James Dean day dream look in his eyes that could make a woman's knees buckle at the sight of him. He has starred in Interstellar, Lady Bird, Call Me By Your Name, Beautiful Boy, The King, Little Women—which was one of Angelisse's favorite books—Dune, and an upcoming the Wonka movie. He has gotten multiple awards throughout his career and by the looks of it, he'll be receiving more. Timothée was a year older than her, being born on December 14th, 1996—just two weeks and a year apart. He was born and raised in Hell's Kitchen, while Angelisse was born and raised in the Upper East Side. Both of them had gone to Columbia University—the only difference was Angelisse, unlike him, had finished college. They had surprisingly a lot in common, but there's one thing about him that made the situation much worse.

He was dating Kylie Jenner.

Suddenly, her phone buzzed, snapping Angelisse out of her thoughts.

Of course, Angelisse knew who she was. She has watched Keeping Up With The Kardashians before and frankly in her opinion, it was annoying and disgusting—they were too problematic for her liking. And her 'husband' was dating her, apparently since the start of 2023 and last September 4th, they went public.

Angelisse was not the type of girl to get into gossip, but there were rumors that Timothée's relationship with the youngest daughter of Kris Jenner was just a PR move.

Angelisse hoped that it was, because she was not in the mood to go face to face with that woman about her boyfriend being married to her. Well, technically, she was Timothée's wife. And Timothée was having an 'affair' with Kylie Jenner. It was funny, but when she thought about it, it was shit.

Yes, this is Timothée. Who's this? How did you get my number?

Angelisse felt her heart beat rapidly inside of her chest. It was him. Her husband. Timothée fucking Chalamet.

That's what you get for waking up in Vegas, you fucking idiot.

“What do I do now?” Angelisse muttered as she stared at the text message. What was she supposed to say? I'm your wife. You married me in Vegas?

Angelisse sighed, leaning back on the couch, phone still in hand.

@helens3amstuff @gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @lovemelikecrazyiloveyoucrazy @bobthe-turmpetman29 @tchalamss

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xalicitie · 1 month

Text

Take Care of Me — Paul Maud’dib Atreides (smut)

Leila is Chani’s trusted crony. While Chani and Paul share a passionate and intimate love for one another, as Paul embraces his role as Lisan Al-Gaib, Chani encounters detrimental trouble in dealing with his new persona and thus turns to Leila as a channel for her frustration. Leila has been Paul’s own medic for a day, and returning to his chambers to treat an opened wound, she takes her frustration out on him. And yet, she finds out he’s frustrated, too.

The full story will be posted on AO3–HAHA. Just kidding. I have no fucking motivation anymore and it’s killing me. If I manage to fill in a few scenes on this story, then it will make it onto AO3. The full story starts a few scenes ahead of this.

Also, this is based on the movies. I’m reading book 1 now, but I wrote this pretty early on. A lot of the stuff probably won’t make sense in the Dune world. If u have a problem suck my cokkk

Isn’t it obvious I like medic smut scenarios

Also if u want the ending of this tell me! idk if the Dune fandom will welcome me here🙏

I enter Paul Maud’Dib Atreides’ chambers for my second round—and yet within my circumstance, and the unfortunate display of events that have fallen into place, instead of knocking, I barge through.

I find Usul confined to his bed, blood gushing through his white garment.

“Leave.” I pronounce with an impatient tongue. The nurses at Usul’s side take a look at me, and with silent agreement, rush off and through his grand doors.

Usul dons a blank countenance, slightly embellished with the graze of concern. More prominently, however, I can see physical pain in his eyes. I try not to let him uncover that this deeply perturbs me.

“Now why in the fucking world would you do this to yourself?” I demand. My footsteps boom through the lifeless room, my lips stiff with inhibition.

He sits there for a second, gaping up at me slightly, plainly confused.

“Excuse me?”

I know this is the Messiah. And I understand that he could have me thrown off the planet for speaking to him in such a wretched way. But with this, I uncover in myself boiling rebellion.

“Damnit, don’t gape at me.” I snarl a bit. I can feel my indignation running wild, through a pounding chest and through my mindless mouth.

“Sit up.”

He does, silently. I’m grateful.

“Take this off.”

I gesture to his shirt. He does this, too.

I come around with a cloth. Staring down at him, I survey the image—he’s bleeding out. Quickly, at that. He messed up his stomach wound considerably. His toned stomach is scaled with blood, a red, filthy gash on his left side. My heartbeat chases a pounding rhythm. Holy shit: he might fucking die.

My inhibition snaps.

“Nevermind. Screw it. Lay against the headrest. Be careful, you damned fool.”

Usul groans as he backs into his bed. “I was told I was getting nursed, not chastised.” He seethes through a set of clamped teeth.

“Yes, well, you managed to ruin your binding. I can see it took an incredible amount of effort, too.” I climb into the bed. Barring off any uncomfortable undertones, I crawl towards him.

“Yet I also don’t need a fucking coach right now, Leila. I need a medic.” I feel his hot breath lingering in the air near; I snap my face towards his. His gaze is unwavering, and I can see his studying gaze, his brow twitching calculatingly.

I’m a frazzled mess—I can tell as my eyes twitch that’s it’s painfully obvious.

I flinch suddenly. My gaze wanders, and I find warm, masculine digits consuming mine.

“You need to stop shaking, damnit.”

His quiet yet pregnant words resonate with me and into my weak, distressed body. I fall still. With his palm against my aching fingers, I find the quickest respite.

“Focus. I will not die.”

“Did you prophesize that, hm?”

“No. I trust you.”

My eyes flutter shut. I inhale a tremulous breath. He’s right—I can’t work in my state right now. But if I want to do as much as merely stopping the bleeding, I’ll have to shift my attitude. Swiftly.

My mind doesn’t dare wander towards Chani. It would be custom for me to turn to her for strength, but the mental image of her mainly brings about animosity. Instead, I focus here, now—on Usul’s palpable heat, in his hands and in the heavy scent of his presence.

I take a moment. A moment, quietly finding my peace and my lost, inner instinct.

After many prolonged breaths, I sit up.

And I get to work.

“This is going to hurt. You might want to lay down.”

Silently, he obeys me.

My skills succumb to my mind. I work intensely—I dab the cloth into his thick blood, which stains his alabaster skin. As I work, a few meager thoughts roam my mind: I doubt no Fremen wouldn’t pay their wage for a touch of his blood, I ponder. Being so intimate with his mortality brings everything into scope; Usul has a power only rivaled by Emperors, Kings, and Queens, however any hit can be fatal. Without Paul, the Fremen lose their symbol and their incentive. But, well, no pressure.

On the other hand, I’m notably grateful for his compliance. And I’m even further impressed with his determination too, in refusing to speak a single word nor a mere sound. As I uncover my own tenets, and I come out of Chani’s shadow, I’m starting to realize.. my favor isn’t entirely for Chani.

A bowl of water arrives with a nurse. Thanking her and sending her off, I near Usul again.

“Does this have to do with Chani?”

As I begin to clean his wound, I talk pointedly, inquiry woven into my tone.

His voice comes eventually, but he groans when I pour the sacred water directly onto his gash. His bony fingers twitch and attach onto the mattress, grasping lightly.

“-Did she tell you anything?” He utters begrudgingly.

“Mhm.” I answer.

“Is that why you’re in a mood?”

Water pools onto his stomach, which is hard with muscles, rising and falling with his trained breaths. It slips onto the bed, wetting it gradually by the second.

“I questioned you first.” I demand.

I can smell his eyes rolling a mile away.

“Yes. I attempted .. reaching her. She’s more stubborn now than I recall.”

I nod involuntarily. Stubborn was a nice word.

“So, you’re not her minion anymore?”

My focused brows shoot up. I drive my mien into his.

“Do you want me to screw up your wound?”

“Leila.”

Trickles and little indications of nerves meander through my body. I realize I’ve paused my work, and with a surge of purpose, I return.

“I don’t dislike the change. You’re finding yourself.”

I bite my gum. “So I have been a nobody until now?”

“No.”

I draw a cloth, lathered with soap around the borders of his wound. He mumbles something, maybe a curse, before speaking again.

“It’s gratifying to see you.. not so impressionable.”

I really do hate being timid and gullible sometimes. Thus, the reason Chani’s been such a magnetic force of my life. She has stiff, ardent opinions, and a defensive stance. Her caution keeps her ready to strike.

But I know this persona is who I am. Even now, with a callous expression discoloring my soft features, I understand—this isn’t me.

“Well, I can’t take care of you forever.” I speak with disdain, brushing away my probing thoughts. “Whatever you do in your pastime isn’t my business, but if you manage to break through this dressing a second time, for whatever reason, I’m getting another nurse to manage your carelessness.”

I hear a smile. “Yes ma’am.”

“Do you know what it is to be a nurse?” I begin. “No. You fight, and you thrust your blade at any living thing. We clean up. We witness the rubble of war, and we tend to the malignant products of violence.” I set the now empty bowl aside, my eyes cast far into the monochrome walls.

“You can’t afford to be careless. You’re the Messiah, Usul. And I surely cannot, either. I mess up, and you’re blood’s on my hands.” I pause. “In this very moment, we’re linked—so I just want you to do your part, as I do mine.”

“So I’m the source of your ire.”

My face scrunches into a frazzled frustration. “Did you hear anything I just said?

“I won’t mess up again. You can trust me.” I rest there, sitting above his body as my fingers dress his wound with ointment, a stone-cold countenance on my face. “What bothers you?”

I bite my gum grimly. “Don’t provoke me.”

“But if you keep your anger confined, what else might invoke it?”

“This isn’t the time for this, Usul.”

“-Paul.”

My fingers halt, propped against his warm skin as I meet eyes with Usul.

“What?”

“I would rather you call me Paul.”

I search my mind. Does anyone other than Chani call him Paul? His mother, of course. And Gurney, obviously. But the list drags to a stop there.

Is he marking the enhancement of our friendship? Maybe he’s egging me into transferring information. Altogether, it puzzles me.

Alas, I disregard my selfish thoughts. It’s foolish of me to pleasure myself with the thought that I might mean something special to the Lisan Al-Gaib. Sighing, I rise from my position.

“Okay, Paul.”

I turn to the table at my flank, taking up a pristine, fresh sheet of dressing into my hands. “Sit up against the headrest. ..Please.”

He does so without complaint once again. I approach him apprehensively. The silence is disarming. I can feel his gaze on me like a cool, unshakeable breeze.

As I begin my work, I succumb to his request.

“Counsel-Member Sarat has been my patient for the past week.” I swallow my shame while my fingers press into Paul’s stomach, attaching the covering gingerly. “He died today. Of infection. And .. and the counsel thought it fit for me to be demoted from my position as head nurse since, inherently, the war has ‘dulled my senses and muted my skills’. They’re rather unyielding in their blame, which they’ve..” I laugh dully. “..brutally pinned on me.”

“They’ve stripped you of your title as head nurse?”

“Mhm.” I confirm gently. It feels that, if I speak a decibel louder, I might crackle and fall apart.

“Give me an hour; I’ll give you your title back.”

“..Paul, it is not your place.” I tell him with warning eyes.

“What do you mean? Why not?”

“I-“ I grunt out an intermittent groan. “Do you really care if I’m head nurse or not?”

“You’re the best in your field. I’ve seen it, I witness it this very moment. Ignorance runs through the council, it’s rather obvious.”

If my complexion warrants it, I blush. I haven’t heard kudos of such high acclaim of late, or.. ever, perhaps. Hardness and disdain may have encrusted my heart, but his words seem to chip at the layers with ease.

“Just, don’t act yet.” I say carefully. “Today has been enough for me. A prolonged night of sleep might just be enough to relieve me of this stress.”

I apply one last morsel of pressure into his side with my palm, scrutinizing the dressing. Immediately, the strings of responsibility lay off of my shoulders. He’s alive, breathing, and his stomach is marked by white linen rather than the thick, maroon tints of his precious blood.

“And you. Our deal?”

I look for understanding in his face, yet I’m met with gentle confusion. I roll my eyes.

“Take care of yourself. Don’t fuck your wounds up, and I don’t have to stress about you.”

“Mmm, because you care so much about me?”

He says this blandly and with a husky tone. I chuckle, falling cocky. “You know what I mean-“

Something warming creeps up my waist. My eyes drawn to the sensation, I look down to see Paul’s hand at my side.

I lift my head. I’m met with his eyes—blue and slitted, brushed by the shadow of the dim light at the end of the spacious room. The cold throb of the air suddenly becomes terribly tangible.

Suddenly, I know. As he holds my gaze, as he holds me, I know. Every stalking thought of my intuition was valid—the prickles of tension were never figments of my wild imagination. That look, that look of his is polluted with infatuation.

I press myself away from him. “What is—what are you-”

“Just stop, Leila.”

His fingers dig a little into my skin. Suddenly, my walls are up. My shoulders surrender to stiffness; my breath refuses to release.

He leans in closer, stealing meager inches of the mattress.

“Isn’t it easier this way? We’re both stressed out of our minds, it hurts, I know. I can relieve you of your pressure, Leila-“

“You jest!”

I push him away with incredulous palms. This shocks me just as much as it does him.

“Chani. We both care for her—is this what you imply?! For two of her loved ones to betray her in one night?-”

“What is there to betray?!”

With a quickness I’m unable to fathom, we are then a mess of limbs; his legs have crawled forth and are propped onto mine, his arm bridging the distance, deft fingers bordering the brink of my neck and shoulder.

Not a wisp of breath sprouts from inside of me.

“She is frustrating. I know you’re angry with her, with how you so unabashedly project. You’re awfully transparent.”

“You are a cocky bastard.”

“Mm.”

Paul tilts his head, as if saying ‘see?’. I stifle a curse from spilling out, off my flaring tongue.

Warmth spreads like wildfire at my hip, as his left hand claims its spot. The thumb of his right ventures over my jaw and to my cheek, while his remaining digits curl around my neck. I repress a shudder, as well as a susurration at my mouth—one that would surely betray me.

“Don’t you see?” He says it so low, his voice crackles in its sudden baritone as he speaks. “Let me take care of you.”

My eyes flutter shut. My mouth gapes slightly; he leans closer and closer.

“You are Chani’s. Chani is yours.”

“You know that's not true.”

My breath trembles audibly. I can hear it in the thick air.

“Why don’t you act on your own desires?”

“How arrogant do you have to be? I do not desire one morsel of you-“

“Ah, I’ve yet to see you pull back.”

My lashes flutter, opening my eyes so that I can witness a peek of the image in front of me: he breathes me in like oxygen, as if he might suffocate any moment. I can see two slits of blue, their light dawning on me and onto the amalgamation of our intimate shadows.

“I'm afraid I know you better than you know yourself, Leila..”

I breathe in, desperately attempting to sort out my visceral thoughts. Maybe a mere moment of preparation, maybe just a little time ..

Yet he denies it. I breathe in, and Paul Atreides has ensnared me with his lips.

The power he has over me is, in itself, terrifying. I mold underneath his touch, every contiguity setting my skin aflame. Paul kisses like a savage—as we sway, his tongue slithering hungrily between my lips, our mouths a battle of uncertainty and voracity, I see him in a different light. The stiff, self-controlled, solemn boy stripped of his armor is revealed to be an animal, just like any other man.

He must be stressed out of his mind. His movement is desperate, his lips feral. His body snakes over me as my hands brush against his skin—each finger passing a rib one by one, drinking in his warmth. Skin of the Messiah.

Even if I refuse to merge with the Fremens’ united belief, I understand well, with awe and terror, Paul’s title and his power. It chills me, through flesh and into the cavern of my soul: I contact the armor of a royally begotten warrior, and I am all the same groped by the hands of a mighty killer.

Chani. Chani. Chani.

I miserably try to redirect my focus. It shocks me how insanely hungry I am for him—it never occurred to me that I had affection for Paul, but my desire flows copiously. I think back on Chani. I attempt to meditate and recall their love and what strife I’m paving.

And yet my body betrays me, These thoughts, even further, backfire.

I am angry. I am tired, and worn from Chani’s groping. The circumstance is rousing something in me—a beast of a feeling, a pit of animosity. Without caution, I shove Paul into the headrest.

“Stay still.”

I climb onto him. I look down, and find his glimmering blue eyes consumed with startled shock.

“Don’t you care about your wounds at all?”

I kiss him. I trap him against the head of the mattress, letting my hands run wild. With his waist bearing my weight, I begin to steadily ride his crotch.

Paul isn’t mine. In a perverse way, this motivates me further—he could be using me as a channel of relief or as a source for his irate, and he might even be infatuated with me. Yet once I’m immersed in my drive, and I’ve established a tantalizing pace to bounce over and over on his hard-on, I realize: I don’t really care. I want this, and I’ll take my goddamn share.

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