#timothée chalamet fanfiction | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lixzey · 6 months

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forever yours.

one two

Timothée Chalamet, cheating on Kylie Jenner? The Wonka actor was spotted kissing an unknown woman in Los Angeles!

You stared at the article on your phone, your hands shaking. You knew you shouldn't think about it; after all, you and Timothée have been dating for four years, and he loves you—only you. But nobody knew that, though. He was a world-famous actor, and you were someone who just so happened to have his heart. You two had decided to keep the relationship low-key and private, away from the chaotic world of Hollywood. Nobody outside of both of your families and friends knew who you were or what you looked like.

You sighed, plopping down on the bed in your boyfriend's apartment. You have been living with him for the last two years, and you loved every bit of it. Timothée was the sweetest boyfriend; he loved to spoil you. He gives you everything that you deserve and more—his words, not yours. You couldn't ask for anything more; you were happily content with the love of your life.

But you still can't brush off the fact that in this story, you were the bad guy.

It all started in December 2022, when Timothée was forced to date Kylie Jenner. His management thought that it would be beneficial for him, seeing that Kylie was Forbes' youngest self-made billionaire and had tons of fans, maybe more than Timothée had. At first, your boyfriend was reluctant. He didn't want to date anyone else other than you. You two argued, but in the end, you convinced him that it would be good for his career.

Timothée signed the contract, and he was obligated to date the youngest daughter of Kris Jenner.

It started with little appearances like Kylie showing up at your home, and you had to leave or hide because there were paparazzis all over the perimeter of your house. Your boyfriend was absolutely apologetic that you had to pretend that you were not his, and it broke his heart to see you smile from the sidelines.

You assured him that everything's alright. You were okay with everything, as long as, at the end of the day, he came back home to you.

Some Timothée's fans were hopelessly praying that it was all some sort of PR stunt—which it actually was, but you signed a non-disclosure agreement. You had no choice but to keep it to yourself. Their 'relationship' went on and on, giving the people the benefit of the doubt.

Until early September, when the PR team decided that it was time to make it public.

You were a little bit heartbroken when you saw it on social media. It was at Beyoncé's birthday concert, a celebrity-studded event, which made it the perfect opportunity to show off their relationship. The way Kylie Jenner had her hands all over your man made your blood boil. Timothée looked uncomfortable, but he didn't have any other choice. You wanted to go and just punch that plastic woman for having her claws all over your boyfriend, but you couldn't do anything. You hated it, but you couldn't bring yourself to admit it. Because if you did, Timothée would drop it before you could even say no.

The way your boyfriend has his arms wrapped around that plastic bitch made you want to slap her and tear off all the plastic she had in her fake body. The way she kissed your man made you want to feed her to the sharks in the Atlantic Ocean. The way your boyfriend had his hand over her ass made you want to go and make a deal with the devil to rid the world of that woman, and maybe chop off your boyfriend's hands while you're at it. But again, you couldn't do a thing. You were left to watch while another woman pawed at your man.

Timothée did everything to make it up to you. He would always assure you that it was all for show and nothing more. He loved you, only you, and he would never dream of hurting you. You knew that, of course, but you can't help getting annoyed by it—you won't tell him that though, because you couldn't.

But now you were a homewrecker, a slut.

Apparently, someone saw you and your boyfriend kissing. It was your fourth anniversary. Timothée had brought you to your favorite restaurant in Los Angeles and was enjoying the night, celebrating four years of love. After a bit of wine, he kissed you, like he always did—momentarily forgetting his 'girlfriend'.

The next day, the photo of you and your boyfriend kissing was all over the internet. People were calling you a homewrecker, a slut, a whore, and more. You practically had death threats filling up semi-trucks. People were telling you who you are, and you didn't have a choice, all because you loved Timothée.

All of this for what? Celebrating four years with the man you love?

You buried your face in your hands, trying to muffle your sobs. You felt like the whole world was against you, like you were the villain in some twisted fairytale. What did you do to even deserve any of this? You just wanted to be with your man, but the world had other plans.

“Mon amour? Are you here?” A voice echoed from downstairs. You wiped away the tears from your eyes, putting on another fake smile as you walked down.

“Hey, love. Are you hungry?” You asked, voice breaking. Timothée looked at you, and you knew he knew something was wrong. You mentally kicked yourself for being so utterly stupid.

“What's wrong, mon amour?” Timothée asked, stepping forward and wrapping you in his arms.

“Nothing, it's alright.” You lied. You were getting pretty good at lying, not that you were proud of it.

Timothée sighed, his arms wrapping you tighter against his body. “Y/n, please, baby. I know something's wrong; you've been crying.” You could hear his heartbeat, the loud thumping in his chest calming you. You sighed loudly, burying your face into his chest, the smell of his cologne invading your nostrils. You pulled away abruptly, and the look of confusion on his face made your heart wrench inside your chest.

“I'm okay, don't worry.”

Timothée cupped your face in his hands, your eyes meeting his. “Y/n, please, mon amour. Just tell me, I just want to help.”

You took a deep breath. It was now or never. “Have you seen the tabloids?”

Timothée sighed, knowing it was about his fake relationship again. “Can you tell me what it is, baby? I'm sorry I haven't checked out the news.”

“It's just....it's silly, honestly.”

“It's not silly if it's bothering you, my love.”

“Someone saw us kissing yesterday, and it's all over the tabloids.” you mumbled, your eyes glued to the floor.

“Oh, baby,” Timothée whispered. “I'm so sorry; I dragged you into this. It's all my fault.” he muttered.

Your heart broke when he said it was his fault. It wasn't; it was the people who were quick to judge. “It isn't your fault, Tim.”

“It is, baby. I shouldn't have agreed to that PR stunt. I should've just turned it down and spent all of my time with you instead-” You cut him off with your lips crashing with his. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him as he deepened the kiss. You felt all of your worries evaporate into thin air, and all that mattered was him. The man you have spent four years with, the man you see a future with.

You pulled away, making him growl as the feeling of your lips left his. You chuckled, kissing him on the cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you more, baby. But….”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “But what, baby?” You asked worriedly.

“Can I see what the article says? And anything else related to it?”

Your eyes widened slightly. It was one thing for you to read all of those horrid things people have written about you, but Timothée? He would break at the words people have said about you, and you couldn't live with him thinking his fans were horrible to the woman he loves.

“Baby….”

“Please, mon amour? You don't deserve to get all the hate.”

You playfully raised an eyebrow, trying to diffuse the tension. “Who said I was getting hate?”

Timothée chuckled. “I know Hollywood.”

You let out a deep sigh as you rubbed your temples. “It's horrible, mon amour.”

“I don't care; I still love you no matter what.”

“You really want to read it?”

“Yes, I do.”

You opened your phone and showed him one of the videos on TikTok about the articles.

timmyfan1: omg timmy cheated on kylie with her? yuck, homewrecker.

kyliestan_: such a slut, going after someone else's boyfriend.

timotheestan: die bitch

– timobaby: yeah, go die in a ditch you slut.

– kyjennerbaby: not timothée's fans wanting the girl to die 😭

timotheechalamalabingbong: not timothée throwing away his relationship and career for this girl 😭

kyliebaby: poor kylie, got her heart broken by this douchebag

jennersisters: anyone want to help me find that girl and slap the shit outta her?

– user1: count me in!

– user2: me too! i'm gonna drag that little bitch down

“I'm so sorry, mon amour,” Timothée whispered as he turned the phone off. “You don't deserve any of this.”

You smiled sadly at him. “I know, but this is nothing.”

“No, it's not nothing. They want you to die, and that's not okay…”

“I don't have any plans on dying, Timmy.” You chuckled.

"But…but...”

"No buts. I know it hurts, but we have to live with it. I have to live with it. You'll just have to focus on your career, okay?”

Timothée sighed in defeat. “You're the most precious person in this world; you don't deserve this.”

“And you know it.” You smiled, grabbing his hand in yours. “I don't care about their words anymore, as long as I have you.”

“I don't deserve you.”

“You do; you deserve me and more.” You chuckled, kissing his knuckles. “I love you, no matter what.”

“I love you, Y/n, I love you so fucking much.” Timothée planted a soft kiss on your lips before pulling you again to his chest. “I'm yours, forever yours.”

You sighed contentedly, melting at his touch, feeling comfort and love in your boyfriend's arms. The only thing that mattered in that moment was you and him; no one could ever take away your happiness.

Your boyfriend, your Timothée, yours.

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ijustwantogohomehogwarts · 9 months

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e y e b r o w s

Tim and Reader are debating the only part of his face that needs some...help

Warnings and such: one swear word? Otherwise absolutely nothing! FLUFF!!

This is one of the fluffiest things I have written and pulled outta my drafts! There's 154 more and they'll be coming!!

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"It's not weird! You see me do it all the time!" I laughed, jumping up on the bathroom counter. I had just gotten out of the shower and thought i'd be able to go 5 minutes without my stage-5-clinger of a boyfriend. Of course, I was wrong, though Im not complaining....

"But you're a girl, it's different."

"It is not!"

He groaned, leaning across the counter to look at himself up close in the mirror. I watched him make faces, studying every part of his reflection. Even when he was being stupid, he was beautiful.

"Let me see," I smiled, grabbing his shoulder. He huffed and stood between my legs, hands on my bare thighs.

"You're soft," He cocked a smile, looking down at my skin.

"I smell nice too-" his face nuzzled into my neck before i could say anything else. "Tim!" I laughed as he inhaled deeply.

"Yeah, you do."

"Focus! Let me see." He stood up and rolled his eyes, looking at me with the upmost level of sarcasm. I grabbed his chin and tipped his face into different angles, eventually being overly dramatic just to make him laugh.

"Yeah, looks like your out of luck."

"Oh come on!" His gaze drifted back to his reflection in the mirror.

"What are you complaining about? You've obviously done it before!"

"It hurts! Why else do you think I dont stay on top of these things- dont!" He pressed a finger to my mouth.

'Because you're lazy,' I thought to myself.

"Let me do it."

"No!"

"It's not going to hurt!"

"Yes it is!"

"Fine, let the hair and make up people do it." I could see the thoughts spinning in his head. "They're going to be super busy, mad they have to spend more time to fix it, and you're gonna start your day pissed off and bright red!" I patted his cheek and made to get off the counter. "Sounds like a good idea!"

"Wait..." I smiled, hands holding his elbows. Even sitting on the counter, I had to look up at him. "Promise it's not going to hurt?"

"Would I ever lie to you?"

"About this, maybe." I gasped, slapping his chest playfully.

"You ass!" His hands grabbed my wrists, holding them gently. He pressed his lips to mine and let the kiss linger for a moment. I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks. The things this man does to me!

"Are you sure?" He finally spoke, dropping my hands and resuming the facial expressions he was making in the mirror. Well, that moments over.

"Tim, you're 3 hairs away from a unibrow! It'll take me 5 minutes, 10 tops and you won't feel a thing!"

"Fine!" he sighed, out of arguments. "But if you mess any of this up," he gestured to his entire face, "you're gonna have a lot of people coming for you!"

"Too bad I'm still the one that's gotta look at you all day!" I kissed him quickly before he could pout- The same kiss he gave me moments ago.

I got out my supplies and went to work. I'm not sure what those hair and make up artists are doing to him- he flinched like crazy at first, but quickly relaxed into it. He stood quietly between my legs, eyes closed, and obliged me when I tipped his head this way and that way.

I took my time, giving myself the pleasure to look at his face. I live with him, I've been dating him for 3 years, I've known him for 20+ years, but it never feels like I get to look at him- not in this way. His skin was perfect, freckles were adorable, his lashes fluttered slightly as I pulled the last few hairs. He sighed heavily, pulling me from my thoughts. I set the tweezers down, put a hand on his shoulder and asked him to squat, just a little. His knees gave a light thud to the cabinet as he did.

I held the side of his face, turning his head each direction one more time before running my thumbs softly across his eyebrows. He sighed heavily again, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Impatient are we?" I whispered, "Do you have somewhere better to be?"

"In bed with my girl." The smile spread across his face. "All done?" He asked, opening his eyes.

"All done!" I smiled. He looked at me for a moment before standing up straight and stepping out from between my legs, leaning over the counter once more.

"Oh wow!" More silly faces. "I look good!"

I hopped off the counter, put everything away and stood behind him, arms wrapped around his torso. He had to lift an arm to be able to see me behind him.

"You always look good...but I like you better with two eyebrows instead of one."

"You're hired!"

"Hired?"

"Oh yeah! It's one thing if those hair and makeup people wanna beat my face with makeup," I couldn't help but laugh. "But when they go for the eyebrows- they're out for blood! Literally!"

"I'm glad you're happy!" I stepped in front of him, arms still around him as I pressed my chin to his chest, looking up at him. "Timmy?"

"Yes mon amour?"

"Will you let me shave your face?"

"One thing at a time, crazy lady!"

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imnotoverlyobsessive · 8 months

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Title of Your Sex Tape

Chapter Six: I Want To Fucking Tear You Apart

AO3 one two three four five six seven eight

All my work is 18+.

So much for keeping this just friends, shut up and kiss me now, and we carry on. I don’t wanna say goodnight; the city comes alive when we’re together. Why can’t Thursday last forever? I don’t wanna say goodnight; I’ve never been so sure.- All Time Low, For Baltimore

Lea woke up when Tim stepped through the door an hour or so later.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he muttered. “Mackenzie is just not pleasant to be around.” She noticed he was almost entirely soft. He must really dislike his costar.

His dick twitched when he looked over at her, though. She’d sat up on her elbows, and the blanket slid down, revealing her breasts. “D’you need help?” she asked sleepily.

“A kiss would be nice,” he admitted, moving towards her. “And also possibly some groping.”

Lea giggled, reaching for him instinctively. He knelt down, cupped her face with his hand, and kissed her. It was hungry immediately, like he wanted to breathe her in, starting with her lips, and his other hand reached over to grasp her breast. She moaned into his mouth, sitting up fully and wrapping her arms around his neck, threading her fingers through his hair. Tim twisted her nipple, and she gasped, giving him the opportunity to slide his tongue into her mouth.

At that exact moment, however, Lea’s stomach growled.

They both froze, and then Tim laughed against her lips. “Need a snack?”

She pulled away, blushing. “Shuddup.”

He chuckled, leaning back in to kiss her cheek. “You’re so cute when you’re embarrassed. It’s cool, I need to go do my next scene anyway.”

Jealousy twisted in her stomach, but she forced it down. “Are you, uh… y’know, good?”

Tim snorted. “Yeah, sweetheart. You consistently get me as hard as a rock.” He gave her a swift peck on the lips before standing back up and handing her her clothes. “Go get something to eat. You’ll feel better afterwards.”

Lea pulled her clothes back on, blushing as she did so.

Tim sighed regretfully, gesturing to her clothes. “That’s a national tragedy, honestly.”

She glanced up at him as she pulled her stockings back on. “Why?”

“‘Cause your tits are covered back up, of course.”

Lea flushed again, straightening her top as she stood back up and mumbling, “That’s hardly a tragedy of any level.”

He hummed, opening the door for her. “Agree to disagree.”

She rolled her eyes and headed off in the direction of the break room.

“So,” Susie began, taking a bite of her sandwich, “how’s work goin’? You get along okay with Tim?”

Lea smiled brightly at the other girl. She liked Susie, figuring she understood what being a fluffer was like. “Yeah, Tim’s great!”

Susie nodded in agreement. “He’s very polite.”

Lea smiled again. “Uh uh. He makes me feel really special, too.”

Susie blinked at her, her brows furrowing. “Special? What do you mean?”

Lea flushed, turning her soda can around in her hands. “Well, y’know, he’s always so courteous about making me feel good, too, and he’s so sweet when he kisses me and stuff.”

Susie’s eyes widened in apparent shock. “When he what?” she squeaked.

Lea glanced up at the other girl. “What is it?”

“How long has he been doing stuff like that?” Susie demanded, leaning over the table and examining Lea like she was a museum exhibit.

Lea blinked. “Uhhh… well, he kissed me the first time I was here. The other stuff kinda just escalated from there. Is that, like, not normal or something?”

“Dude,” Susie enunciated slowly, “that is the literal opposite of normal. The actors never kiss the fluffers, let alone touch them. I don’t know if they’re even allowed to.”

Lea’s eyes widened. “Oh,” she squeaked. “I… I didn’t know that.”

Susie looked her up and down. “Yeah, I can kinda see it, actually.”

Lea frowned in confusion. “See what?”

The other girl grinned and took a sip of her drink. “Something tells me you’ll figure it out.”

“Nobody ever tells me anything,” Lea grumbled into her own soda.

Like most New York City apartments, the one Lea shared with her best friend, Sam, was tiny. She was lucky to have her own room. And even so, she still paid fifteen hundred a month.

Tim’s apartment, however, in no way resembled Lea’s shoebox apartment for a number of reasons. The first was that Tim’s apartment was significantly more than four times the square footage of hers. It also had four bedrooms, each with its own bathroom, plus a half bath that was literally the same size of the one bathroom she shared with Sam. Its kitchen—which had no less than six burners—was actually big enough to turn around in, had a breakfast table, and a dining separate room to boot.

Tim adored his apartment, mostly because it overlooked the Empire State Building, which was a fact he was weirdly proud of.

Presently, they were curled up under a blanket on the chaise in his bedroom, watching TV. He had his arm around her and was holding her close, the way he often did.

“Lea,” he said suddenly.

She sighed, pausing the show and turning to scold him. “You don’t just interrupt Avatar, Tim,” she told him, completely ignoring the fact that the way he was looking at her made her stomach flutter and Susie’s words race through her mind. “I’ll have to rewind in order to fully appreciate Katara kicking ass.”

He frowned. “Sorry, I just… I have to ask you something.”

She pursed her lips. “Okay…?”

“Do you ever think about work, like… outside of work?” His voice was quieter than normal, and she wondered why, what he was talking about.

Blinking in confusion, she said, “Err, yeah. I talked to Susie earlier. I was thinking maybe I could ask her to hang out sometime.”

He shook his head, curls falling over his eyes. “No, I mean, like…” He took a deep breath, and she wondered what had him acting so damn anxious. He was never anxious. Dude was confidence personified, so what the hell? Finally, he continued, “When you’re not at work, do you ever think about what you and I do at work?”

Her heart stuttered in her chest. Or maybe it froze. She wasn’t entirely sure. “Uhhhhh…” She gulped. “W— why do you ask?”

Tim looked straight at her when he said, “Because I do. I think about it all the time.”

Her face flamed at the idea of him thinking about the things they did—the things they said—in places that weren’t the studio. “Oh.” She had no idea what to say other than that.

Luckily, or perhaps unluckily, depending on how one looked at it, Tim filled the silence. “I think about how gorgeous you are, how intelligent and funny and interesting you are, the way you touch me and kiss me and moan my name when I make you cum, how you taste and what your body looks like, how soft you are. How good you feel. I think about what it would be like if I could hold you like this whenever I wanted, if I could wake up every day with you in my arms and kiss you, maybe even fuck you, if you’d let me.”

There was static in her brain. She couldn’t think. Why was he saying these things? “Is… is that why you treat me differently than the other fluffers?”

He furrowed his brow. “There are no other fluffers. There’s only you.”

Lea shook her head impatiently. “No, like, how you’ve treated others before me. How the other actors treat their fluffers. Susie told me that how you treat me is… unusual.”

“It is unusual,” he said simply.

“Then why are you, like…” She couldn’t complete her thought, so instead she just ended with, "Why?”

Tim looked at her for a long moment, and then he bluntly told her, “Because I like you. I like you a lot.”

Was she breathing? She wasn’t entirely certain she was breathing. She may not have been. With a gulp, she managed to squeak out, “Like… as a friend, or…?”

He snorted lightly, his arm finally leaving her. “I do like you as a friend, yeah,” he agreed with a nod. “Adore you, actually. But I adore you as a whole hell of a lot more than a friend, too.”

She couldn’t speak. Her mind was reeling from this information. He liked her? As more than a friend?

How? Moreover, why? She knew he found her attractive for some weird reason (Lea was fully aware that she was decently cute, okay, there was nothing wrong with her appearance, strictly speaking, but she didn’t think she was as sexy as he seemed to find her), but for him to have romantic-type feelings for her…

Well, he’d always been a weirdo, hadn’t he?

“How do you feel about me?” he pressed when she remained silent. “I know sucking my dick turned you on enough for you to touch yourself—“ she sputtered in embarrassment at that— “but how do you actually feel about me? Do you like me, too?”

Lea wrung her hands in her lap anxiously. She probably shouldn’t admit to having feelings for him. It was inconvenient, and she didn’t want to be vulnerable with anyone in that sense, let alone someone of his profession. Not that she had any issues with sex work, of course, she just knew he could never truly love her and also sleep with other girls.

But he knew her too well for him to see through a lie, didn’t he?

Well, shit.

“Y— yeah,” she mumbled out, wishing very much that she could disappear.

Tim took her hand in his then, reaching up to cup her cheek in his palm and lifting her face to his. He was grinning at her, looking entirely too pleased with himself, and then he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers.

She arched into him without really meaning to, and before she knew it, she found herself in his lap. He was kissing her neck—no, wait, he was giving her a hickey—and gripping her ass, squeezing roughly.

“Fuck, you’re so sexy,” Tim groaned. “Been thinkin’ about this for months, sweetheart.”

“God, me too,” she admitted breathlessly.

“Tell me you want me,” he pleaded. “I’d give you anything, baby, just— if you want me inside you, I gotta hear you say it.”

She threaded her fingers into his hair. “I want you inside me, Tim.”

“Fuck,” he grunted, his grip on her ass tightening. “Want you, too, princess. Wanna fuck you so good you can’t even move.”

He trailed kisses down her neck, brushing against the collar of her light blue Burberry knit sweater and sliding his hands under the matching skirt to squeeze her ass over her pink Lise Charmel panties, encouraging her to roll her hips against his. “Yes,” she gasped out. “Fuck, that feels good—“

“I’ll bet it does,” he chuckled. “Rub your pretty little clit against me, sweetheart. You feel how hard I am for you?”

“Uh huh,” Lea whined, leaning her head back as he unbuttoned the top buttons of her sweater.

“Loved how wet you got from my dick in your mouth, baby,” he growled. “Just wait till you feel what it’s like to have it in you, to get fucked nice and hard.”

He undid the rest of the buttons, revealing the pink satin of her bra and squeezing her breasts through it. “Oh, Tim,” she gasped out, arching into his hands.

“I know,” he murmured. “God, look at you. So needy. Can I have it, sweetheart? Will you let me have you?”

Lea nodded frantically, eager to take him inside her. Now that she knew he had feelings for her, too… well, how could she say no when she wanted him so desperately? “Want you,” she whined.

“I can feel how much you want me,” he chuckled, sliding her sweater from her shoulders. “You’ve soaked through your panties.” If she weren’t so turned on, this probably would’ve embarrassed her, but she didn’t have enough blood left in her brain for embarrassment. “Come to bed with me, baby. I’ll make you feel so good, take such good care of you.”

She rocked her hips again, stimulating her clit. “Yes, please.”

Tim picked her up and stood, and she squealed with delight, giggling and wrapping her arms around his neck. He strolled over to the foot of the bed and dropped her onto it. “Take your clothes off,” he murmured, his fixed on her breasts as he yanked his shirt over his head, followed by his sweatpants.

“You’re not wearing underwear,” she observed shakily.

“It would seem I’m not,” he agreed before observing, “Your clothes aren’t off yet.”

“R— right,” she muttered, swiftly undoing her bra and pulling it off, followed by her skirt and panties. Tossing them onto the floor, she glanced up at him, flushing at the blatant desire in his gaze.

“You’re un-fucking-real,” he growled, crawling over her and caging her body in with his. Leaning down on his forearms and cupping her face in his hands, he kissed her, pressing the length of his bare body against her own. “Perfect tits,” he murmured against her lips, squeezing her breasts momentarily before trailing a hand down between them to rub at her. “Perfect pussy.”

He spread her legs with a gentle hand on her knees, and she leaned up to kiss him. She felt as if she’d die if he didn’t touch her, didn’t kiss her.

“Tim,” she manage to gasp out, “please, I want—“

“I know what you want,” he murmured, sucking another hickey into her neck. “I’ll give it to you, Lea, don’t you worry.” He rubbed her clit in slow circles for a few seconds before freezing. “Wait, fuck— lemme get a condom—“

“I don’t want you to use a condom,” she interjected hurriedly. “You’re— I mean, you get tested all the time, don’t you?”

Tim pushed himself off from her, examining her features. “Yeah, I do. Once a week.”

She licked her lips, stomach fluttering at the idea of him inside her, the two of them linked together without any barriers between them. “I’m on birth control,” Lea breathed. “Please, Tim. I want to… I want to feel you.”

“Fuck,” he grunted, jerking down to kiss her hungrily. “Anything you want, sweetheart.”

“I want you inside me,” she said into his mouth.

“Yes,” Tim groaned, sliding two long, slender fingers into her and curling them. “Let me just… let me get you ready for me, okay? Don’t wanna hurt you.”

“I don’t care if you hurt me,” she insisted, rolling her hips up into his hand. “Just— please—“

“I care if I hurt you, though,” he told her with a soft chuckle. “You’re a hell of a lot more than a quick fuck to me, y’know?” She tensed at that, but he continued. “You’re important to me, and I really, really like you.” He cupped her cheek with one of his hands. “Sex with you will be amazing, I know it will be, but it’s more than just sex to me, and I need you to know that. I need to know that it’s more than just sex to you, too.”

She smiled up at him. He could be so sweet. “Don’t be stupid. Of course it’s more than that to me.”

Tim kissed her then, groaning when she returned it and fisting a hand in her hair. She cupped the back of his head as he took her bottom lip between his teeth and gasped into his mouth when he resumed fingering her.

“Want you,” she begged. “Please, Tim, I want you so bad—“

“Fuckin’ hell, Lea,” he muttered, pulling his fingers out of her. “Are you sure you’re ready for me to—“

“Yes I’m sure,” she cut him off impatiently. “I am absolutely, positively, one thousand percent sure.”

“Okay, okay,” he conceded with an affectionate chuckle as he guided himself to her entrance. “God, you’re soaked.”

“You were just fingering me,” she pointed out, blushing.

“Mhm,” he confirmed, “and that was almost as hot as…” He paused, slipping the head of him inside her. “…This.” He groaned, burying his face in her neck. “Holy fucking— good god, Lea.” He slid further in until she gasped in discomfort, making him pause and lift his face up to examine her expression. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” she told him, wincing. “It just… stings.”

“We just need to get you used to it, baby,” he assured her gently, stroking her cheek. “It’ll get better once you’re used to it.”

“If you say so,” she muttered.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked.

Lea shook her head. “No, you can keep going.”

It took awhile, but eventually, he was fully seated inside her, panting against her neck with exertion. “Jesus Christ,” Tim gasped. “You feel so fucking good.”

“I— I do?” she asked, somewhat surprised. She wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting, exactly.

“You’re so tight,” he groaned, lifting himself up to kiss her hungrily. “Tell me when I can move, alright?”

“Go ahead,” she said with a slight nod.

He pulled out a bit, thrusting back in with a slow, controlled exhalation of breath. “How’s it feel?”

Lea considered this. “It feels… weird.”

“What do you mean?”

She furrowed her brow, trying to think of how to word it (which was no small feat when a guy she adored so much was literally inside her). “I feel… full. Stretched.”

He smirked. “Both of those words are accurate, yes.” He thrust again, the movement slow, gentle. “You’re full of me, and I’m stretching you out.” Another thrust, and it… it was starting to feel less uncomfortable. It was starting to feel good. She inhaled sharply, and he asked, “Any better?”

Nodding jerkily, Lea wrapped her arms around him and pulled him in close. “Don’t stop, please.”

“I won’t,” he promised, thrusting again. “Not unless you want me to. Do— do you like it?”

Before she could answer, he thrust again, and she was certain it felt good that time. The feeling of fullness—of being stretched—was no longer uncomfortable, it was delicious, and she wanted more of it. “Y— yes,” she forced out in between gasps. “It feels… oh, fuck, just don’t stop—“

He kissed her, sliding his tongue into her mouth and grasping her hips firmly. His fingers dug into her skin, holding her against the mattress. It was almost as if his grip on her was him trying to ground himself, control his actions.

One of his hands slid up her side to squeeze her breast, rolling her nipple between his fingers, and she moaned into his mouth, trying to lift her pelvis to meet his. “Hold still,” he scolded teasingly, trailing kisses down the flushed column of throat. “Stop squirming.”

“I can’t,” Lea admitted, her voice practically a whine. “Feels so good, I can’t— god, Tim—“

“I know, sweetheart,” he reassured her with a hoarse chuckle. “You feel good, too.”

“Didn’t you say you wanted it—ah!—harder?”

Tim squeezed her breast again, twisting her nipple more roughly this time. “It’s your first time,” he explained, panting, “I gotta be gentle with you.”

“I don’t want you to be gentle,” she insisted. “I want you to show me what you like. Whatever you wanna do to me, that’s what I want.”

“Fuck,” he groaned, fisting a hand in her hair, the tug at her scalp stinging in a way she found more enjoyable than she probably should’ve. “God, you’re fuckin’ perfect. You sure you want it rougher?”

“Yes,” Lea said immediately. “Yes, please.” His achingly slow thrusts were beginning to drive her insane.

The hand in her hair tightened, and she inhaled sharply at the sensation. His other hand squeezed her hip as he pulled out of her, and when he pushed back in again, he slammed in.

She moaned loudly, her back arching off the mattress. Tim leaned down and caught her nipple in his mouth, pulling it gently between his teeth as he withdrew again, only to slam his hips back against hers. The abrupt movement made him release her nipple, his teeth scraping it in the process, which was a delicious mix of pleasure and pain.

“Rough enough for you?” he grunted out in between thrusts.

“Mhm,” she gasped, trailing her hands up his arms. He had more muscle than she would’ve expected or someone so skinny, but when he flexed, it was really quite pronounced.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he told her. “Touch me. I’m yours.”

Something about those words lit fire in her veins, and she smiled up at him in delight, only for the expression to be cut off when he thrust into her again. Trailing her fingertips along his collarbones, up his neck and across the sharp lines of his jaw, Lea relished in the way he leaned into her touch, turning his head so as to kiss her palm.

“Tim, I—“ She couldn’t finish her statement, because he’d slammed into her again, reaching down to grasp her hips firmly. This time, though, there was no contrast between his hold on her and the way he moved inside her. This time, his fingers dug into her, hurting just a little bit as he pressed his palms against her pelvis so as to hold her down, and it matched the rough pace he’d set perfectly.

If it weren’t for his hold on her, she would’ve been scooting across the mattress, so it was probably a good thing, but when he held her down that way, it made her want to buck her hips up against his. She attempted to do so, but he was stronger than he looked. She couldn’t lift her pelvis.

“You take it so well, Lea,” he praised, his voice low and rough. “Take my cock so well, babydoll.” When she did nothing but whine and try to buck her hips again, he slammed into her punishingly with a dark chuckle. “Be good for me. Good little princess, taking my dick like this. You like getting fucked, don’t you?” Still, she could only whine in response, so he gripped her jaw firmly, leaning in to kiss her with a gentle slowness that was almost strange in contrast to how roughly he handled her. “You’d better tell me you like it when I fuck you if you don’t want me to stop,” he chided softly, his lips brushing hers.

Suddenly terrified that he would actually stop, she immediately forced out, “I like it when you fuck me.” The words were somewhat jumbled, her voice a bit raspy, but it seemed to do satisfy him.

“Good girl,” Tim praised, pounding into her. “Oh fuck, Lea, been dreaming about this pussy. Feels so fuckin’ good.”

The hand on her jaw migrated to her hair, and he yanked her head to the side so as to mouth wetly at her neck, scraping his teeth over the sensitive flesh. When he started working on another hickey, she threaded her fingers into his hair, holding him against her as he fucked her.

“More,” Lea whined, undulating her hips.

“If you want more,” he panted, “stop fuckin’ squirming.”

She barely registered the words, though; he felt too good inside her. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop, fuck that’s so good—“

“Greedy girl,” Tim growled, kissing one of the hickeys he’d given her. “Feel your pussy clenching around me, sweetheart, d’you wanna cum?”

“Yes,” she moaned. “I wanna cum, Tim, I wanna cum, please make me cum—“

“Hmmm,” he hummed, considering this as he propped himself up to examine her features. “You gonna be a good girl for me?”

Before he’d even finished the sentence, she was already nodding eagerly. “I’ll be good!” she promised. “I’ll be good for you, I swear, I’ll do anything you want!”

“All I want,” he told her, fucking her slower now, each thrust deep and hard, “is to fuck my fill of you whenever I feel like it.”

She nodded again. “Yes, yes, please—“

He eyed her breasts, squeezing them roughly with one hand. “Look at the way they bounce, Jesus fucking Christ,” he muttered.

“Tim,” she whined desperately, needing to cum so badly she felt as if she’d die.

“You are greedy, aren’t you?” he smirked. “Alright, baby. I’ll make you cum.”

Nearly sobbing in relief when he reached between them, she moaned as he began to rub her clit in hard, fast circles. “God, Tim, I—“

“I know,” he crooned in her ear. “I know you’re gonna cum, sweetheart. You’re gonna cum all over my dick, aren’t you?”

“I want— I want you to cum, too,” she gasped out. “Want you to cum inside me.”

He chuckled. “I’ll bet you do, you dirty little girl. Gonna let me fill you up with my cum, huh?”

“Yessssss,” she hissed, her eyes fluttering as she neared her peak. “God, I’m close, I’m gonna—“

“That’s it, babydoll,” he growled. “Cum for me, sweetheart.”

She came, moaning his name desperately.

Tim slammed his hips against hers repeatedly, fucking her roughly before he finally groaned and collapsed atop her.

“How was it?” he panted against her neck several minutes later.

“Huh?” she asked, too dazed to think.

“Your first time,” he clarified. “How was it?”

“Oh.” She blinked, turning the words over in her head until she could actually process them. “It was amazing.”

Lea felt him smile against her skin.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” she confirmed, wrapping tired arms around him.

“Glad you enjoyed it, too, then.”

“Mmm,” she hummed sleepily.

“You tired, baby?” he asked gently, sweetly.

“Mhm.”

“Lemme clean you up and then you can sleep, alright?” He stood, and she whined as he pulled out of her. He shushed her with a kiss to her forehead. “Let me clean you up a little real quick.”

“Mmkay.”

She let him maneuver her body around and clean between her legs until he was satisfied. When he rejoined her in bed, he took her in his arms and settled the covers over them.

She yawned, sleepily nuzzling in closer to him.

His arms tightened around her, and he pressed a kiss to her scalp.

She was out before she could formulate another coherent thought.

Tag list

@ellamaianderson @shika1200 @blackqueenstarseed1 @gatoenlaciudad @esmaada @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @softhecreator @timolaurence @timmymyluv @oddlyenoughiamweird @leecrunchybones @s-we-e-t-t-ea @almostg @leespparker @bubblebuttwade @glizzymcguirex @starberry-cake

To be added, please ask 💗

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hamlets-ak · 9 months

Text

Masterlist

timothée chalamet

regulus black

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all-my-love-for-harry · 2 years

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my happy little pill ✿ | timothée chalamet

my masterlist | warnings: developing dependence to medication, going through withdrawal.

⋆┈┈｡ﾟ❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ❁ུ۪ ❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ﾟ｡┈┈⋆

Mavis has struggled with anxiety pretty much her whole life. For as long as she could remember she's had trouble to execute simple tasks with ease. Like going to the mall on her own or driving a car.

Therapy helped a lot to work on her confidence but four or so years ago her anxiety got so bad they decided to prescribe her some medication to help with her anxiety attacks. Making the decision of starting to take the pills was a big deal to her, and she felt lucky she had Timothée on her corner.

The first two years went by smoothly, taking the medication only when needed. If she was honest she kind of liked the feeling of temporary numbness it brought her every time she popped a pill in her mouth. After so many years of thinking too much it was nice to not feel anything.

The pills also helped her with the terrible insomnia she's had for years. She started noticing how good she'd sleep when she took it, and soon she became dependent on them, taking it even when she wasn't feeling anxious or having an attack, doubling the dose hoping it would make it feel even better.

Timothée began to notice how her medication started to run out sooner than expected, how she stopped taking the pills with him in the same room because she didn't want him to see how many she was taking. He didn't want to make Mavis uncomfortable by asking her but he was starting to really worry about his girlfriend.

"Timmy," Mavis calls out as she enters their shared bedroom. "I'm going out for a bit, I shouldn't take long."

Before she could exit the room, Timothée poked his head out of the master bathroom. "Where are you going?"

"I have to uh- pick up some things at the pharmacy." She forgot to lie and immediately cringed at the way his eyebrows furrowed.

"The pharmacy? Are you feeling sick?"

She figured she couldn't lie now so she told the truth. "I ran out of my pills." She mumbled, hoping he wouldn't hear. But of course he did.

"What do you mean you ran out?" With slight panic in his voice he pushed past her, making his way to the cabinet they kept the medications in and searched for her anxiety medication. When Mavis caught up with him he was already holding the empty bottle in his hands, examining it carefully. "These were supposed to last until - chérie," his tone changed to a softer one once he realized. "How many pills have you been taking?"

She lowered her gaze. "Just the amount prescribed."

"Mavis." Timothée's tone was dead serious. He never used her full name, always opting for sweet pet names. That's how she knew he was not playing around. "Have you been feeling anxious lately?"

"The pills help." She mumbled. "I take three before going to sleep every night." Mavis hated lying to her boyfriend, and seeing the worry in his eyes made her feel guilty. "They make me feel good, Timmy. I need them." Her voice cracked and her eyes filled with tears making Timothée to drop the medication bottle and pull her into a hug.

"My sweet girl, I know you do. But you can't crank up your dose like that." He pulled away to swipe the tears off her face with his thumbs. "It's making you more damage than good. You're not yourself, I've noticed."

"But I'm better." She tried to argue. "They make my brain numb, I like that. They also make me sleep better, you know how much I've struggled with that. Please just let me go get them, I will only take the amount prescribed, I promise."

"I don't believe you." He shook his head. "I think we should make an appointment and revisit the idea of the pills."

This made her panic. "No! You do not understand. I...I can’t sleep, I can’t eat without those p-pills...t-they’ve helped me a-and I-I can’t-- I can't s-top taking them."

More tears began to fall and he took this a sign delicately pick her up and place her on the sofa. He kneeled in front of her and began to massage her arms. "Mavis, honey, I need you to breathe, okay? Can you do that for me?"

He started taking deep breaths, in and out, until she started mimicking them to help her calm down. They stayed silent for a while, Mavis taking a hold of Timothée's hand and squeezing it now and then, him doing the same to help keeping her grounded and as a reminder he was still there.

"You're right." She finally spoke. "I should probably stop taking them for a while. I'm just... Timmy, I'm scared of feeling the way I did before."

His eyes softened. "I'm right here, chérie. It won't be easy at the beginning but we'll figure it out, okay?"

He was right. It wasn't easy. The first night was the toughest, her insomnia making a comeback when she didn't take the pills before getting ready for bed. But as he promised, Timothée stayed awake with her as she laid on his chest, stocking her hair gently as she played with the plain silver chain that rested on his naked chest.

He hummed a soft, calming melody to help her relax. That night they didn't sleep at all, watching in silence how the sun raised and the sky cleared from the windows of their bedroom.

They repeated the same routine the next night, Timothée trying some white noises on the speakers because he read that helped people with insomnia to sleep. He carefully crafted a playlist, filtering all the sounds he knew she wouldn't like. The sound of rain made her anxious and the ocean terrified her.

"I feel bad you're not getting any sleep because of me." She said the third night she was getting ready for bed.

"In sickness and in health, baby."

"We're not married." She said as she got into bed, assuming her position on her boyfriend's chest.

"Mmm, we could be." He replied softly before placing a kiss on her temple.

Withdrawal was the worst experience of her entire life. Her hands were shaking more than ever, her knee was bouncing so hard the person next to her was able to feel it. She wanted those pills, she needed those pills. It would be so much easier to just go back to not feel anything rather than feeling every emotion amplified, but she continued to push through.

The first two weeks were a living hell for her, constantly thinking she wouldn't make it, and when she was about to give up and just run to the pharmacy for a new bottle of pills, she'd catch Timothée making her a cup of tea every night, buying expensive silk covers because he read those made you sleep better, fluffing her pillow and lighting a candle with her favorite essence. He was going up and beyond to make sure she felt safe and comfortable.

"I love you so much, Mav. You're so brave, so strong. I can't believe you're mine. I'm gonna make sure you always feel safe."

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hiatuswhore · 2 years

Text

Timothée Chalamet Masterlist

Masterlist

Ugh, High School

Ugh, High School II

Summary: Ugh, high school. Best four years of nothing. Raging mood swings and sporadic acne. All on top of balancing mean girls, douche bag guys, and cocky jocks. Best four years? Yikes imagine peaking in high school.

T H E O D O R E L A U R E N C E

No Bad Days

Summary: No matter how much of a good thing Thomas Shelby may have he is his own greatest enemy. How much of a good thing will he miss out on before it’s gone altogether?

P A U L A T R E I D E S

Something For Your Mind

Something For Your Mind II

Summary: Your parents offered a simple explanation—a Fremen with the gift of prescience. A secret amongst the sand.

S E R I E S

Mrs. Winters

Summary: Love grows where trust is laid, and love dies where trust is betrayed.

#timothée chalamet fanfiction #timothee x you #timothée imagine #timothee chalamet x reader #timothée chalamet au #timothée fanfic #timothée chalamet imagine #timothée chalamet #dune imagine #paul atreides imagine #paul atreides #little women imagine #little women #laurie imagine #laurie laurence #Theodore Laurence

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hemmingsleclerc · 4 months

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''Is it obvious?'' Timothée Chalamet

timothée chalamet x fem!reader

ynln

Liked by tchalamet, tomholland13 and 1,482,794 others

ynln miss shooting w these people

username ugh I would love to know if timmy and yn know each other in rl

username fav cast ever

username give us more bts pics!!!

zendaya my girlllll ❤️

tomholland13 🙌

tchalamet

Liked by zendaya, ynln and 1,583,753 others

tchalamet DUNE BTS

username since when yn follows timmy omg

username for a while now!!!

username YES KINGGG

username does anyone know if zendaya and timmy are dating?

username Idk but some fans say she has something with tom

enews

Liked by 240,489 others

enews timothee chalamet was seen with a girl in the airport this morning looking very close sources confirm

username WHAT HOW WHEN!?

username WHO IS SHEEEEE

username I think I know that sweater

username pls everyone can have a sweater of that color...

username he looks so happy😭💕

ynln posted a story!

caption:💗💗

seen by 29,593,593

tchalamet has posted a story

caption: rainy days with the best company🙌❤️

seen by: 27,583,017

yndaily

Liked by tomholland13, paulinechalamet and 184,952 others

yndaily NO WAY YN AND TIMOTHÉE KISSING TODAY IN NY

username WHAT !?

username NO.WAY

username I KNEW IT ''JUST FRIENDS'' MY ASS

ynln

Liked by tchalamet, zendaya, tomholland13 and 22,583,376 others

ynln I picked the right one ❤️

tagged: tchalamet

tchalamet MY GIRL!!!! ❤️💃💃💋

zendaya 🥺💕

tomholland congrats mates!

blakelively so so happy for you two!!

vancityreynolds blake's crying for you but anyway, congratulations kids! but keep those photos for yourselves xx

liked by ynln and tchalamet

comments on this post are limited

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your-averagewriter · 4 months

Text

“Hearts for a sweetheart.”

Summary: Bumping into a sweet chocolatier evolves into something even sweeter (Timothée Chalamet!Willy Wonka x fem!reader)

Word count: 1.9K

Warnings: Kissing, swearing (once I think).

Walking along the street, I’m interrupted by a sea of cheers as a man in an elaborate get-up passes around chocolates and sweets with a strong smile. As he walks through the crowd, people push forward, reaching for the chocolates forcing me forward, almost causing me to fall to the ground.

After nearly tripping over from the force of the crowd, I feel a hand on my shoulder and turn to look at the person, steadying myself.

“Are you alright, miss?” The extravagant man asks.

Looking over him I can’t help but smile a little at his top hat and jacket, finding it endearing combined with his gentle nature.

“I’m okay.” I say as he helps me stabilise myself.

“Would you like a chocolate?” He asks with a new kind of smile, a toothy grin as he extends his arm, a tray of chocolates decorating the plate.

“Thank you but I can’t afford your fancy chocolates.” I deny, looking down a little ashamed as the crowds of people still surround us although they’ve quietened down a bit now.

“They’re free. No price for you, or anyone.” He pauses after saying ‘you’, seemingly forgetting the rest of his sentence.

“Really?” He nods and I reach to take one gently. “Thank you, mister…” I pause, not knowing his name.

“Mr Wonka, chocolatier.” He grins as he tips his hat towards me with a smile.

“Thank you Mr Wonka, the chocolatier.” I smile before seeing him disappear back into the crowds.

I only see him a couple more times as he looks back at me with a smile plastered on his face, his top hat sticking out above the crowds making me chuckle before putting the small chocolate into my mouth, resting it delicately on my tongue.

Closing my mouth, I start to chew the chocolate, truly surprised by the delicious treat. It’s like nothing I’ve ever tasted before. I try to savour it but it’s gone too soon, making me wish it would last forever.

Mr Wonka, a name I would not soon forget, in fact I couldn’t stop thinking about the man: his chocolates, his fashion and most of all his endearing, sweet nature. Walking through the streets, making my way home I ponder whether I would see him again or how. He must have a shop or a stall or something similar, maybe with the other chocolate stores? It doesn’t seem like he’d fit in with those pretentious sellers who seem to have no love for the art of food, let alone chocolate.

After a couple of weeks I had saved up some coins, not enough to get me more than one chocolate I doubt, but it'd be worth it both for the delicious chocolate and to see him again. With my coins in my pocket, I wander through the town centre, keeping my eyes out for the chocolatier but I don’t spot him.

Making it to the palace of chocolate stores I begin to feel the cold nipping at my skin, regretting not bringing my jacket. I walk through the doors, feeling very fancy as I do so, looking at the patterned floors and incredible glass dome roof.

Feeling a slight shiver I hurry along, looking to the stores and suddenly seeing a new store: Wonka. Upon seeing the name I make my way towards the store, taking in the beautiful design and calligraphy.

Walking in I’m instantly taken aback by the extraordinary interior, colourful candy delights disguised as nature causing me to gasp. Frozen, I stand in the door probably looking quite shocked as after a few seconds I feel a tap on my shoulder causing me to turn around, eyes going a little wide at the slight shock.

“Hello miss.” I turn around to see Mr Wonka smiling. “I wasn’t sure if I was going to see you again.”

“You remember me?” I ask, tilting my head slightly confused.

“Of course I do, I only regret that I didn’t ask your name last time we met.”

“(y/n), Mr Wonka.”

“Ah, call me Willy, last names are too formal for me.” He chuckles and I nod before looking around.

“Your store is incredible.” I say, looking around awe-struck.

“Why thank you, would you like a tour?”

“You’ve probably got more important things to do…” I say quietly with a soft smile.

“Nonsense! What could be more important than showing a woman as lovely as yourself around?” He asks with a charming smile. “Now, what kind of chocolate do you like?”

I think about it for a second, realising how long it’s been since I’ve had chocolate, excluding the last time I bumped into Willy. “The normal kind of chocolate?” I say, unsure.

“Normal kind?” He raises an eyebrow playfully. “Milk chocolate?” I nod.

“I think so, the chocolate you gave me last time was delicious, the best I’ve ever tasted.” I smile.

“Thank you, that means more than you realise.” He says softly, a tone of sincerity. “I’ll make you something special.” He grins. “Do you want to look around for a minute? I won’t keep you waiting too long.” He smiles, I nod before he seems to disappear before I even realise.

I walk towards the river watching as the boat goes round and round, the mechanisms seem incredible. Crouching down by the river I reach for a flower, inspecting the treat before taking a tentative bite from the petal. I let out a sigh, the treat tasting even better than I thought it would. Standing back up I take the flower with me, nibbling on the petals as I walk around the store, in awe at all the beautiful decorations.

A few seconds later, Willy pops up from out of nowhere, startling me slightly but with a small box in his hand.

“I didn’t mean to startle you.” He offers a small smile. He removes the lid from the box revealing a set of three chocolate hearts with delicate piping on top.

“Wow, these are beautiful.” I say, staring at the artwork.

“Hearts for a sweetheart,” He grins, flustering me a little.

“Thank you… How much do these cost?” I ask, trying not to be awkward but failing.

“Nothing, well except that I get to see your reaction, I think you’ll like them. I based them off of the chocolate you had a couple of weeks ago but made them better.”

“Are you sure? I have some coins.” I reach into my pocket, pulling out some coins but fumbling them leading multiple to fall to the ground. “Shit, sorry…” I say quietly before crouching down and reaching for the coins.

Willy does the same helping me pick up the coins as his hand accidentally brushes against mine. We both look up at each other before I look away embarrassed. He holds my hand, turning it over and placing the coins in my hand before folding my hand, covering the coins. He brings my hand up to his face, pressing his lips against my wrist with a small smile.

“Thank you…”

“Don’t worry about it.” He says as we both stand up again, I slide my coins back into my pocket.

He offers me the box and I take one of the three heart chocolates and place it in my mouth.

“Oh my god, you’re a genius.” I sigh, enjoying the chocolate. “These are incredible.”

“Thank you.” He grins, a proud expression on his face. “Would you like anything else? A buttercup? Cotton candy cloud? Cherries? Gummy bears?” He shoots off options one after the other at a quick speed.

“What would you recommend?” I ask, tentatively.

“Please follow me.” He smiles, leading me around the store to a patch of flowers. Crouching down, he plucks a few flowers, matching them by colour and tying them to make a chocolate bouquet before passing it to me.

“It’s beautiful.” I smile. He pulls out one more flower and tucks it behind my ear.

“Don’t worry, that’s a real flower.” He reassures me with a soft smile.

“Thank you.” I say softly.

“They’re chocolate, one’s white, dark and the other milk so you can work out what you like.” He says gently arranging the flowers. “Then you can come back and I can make you some more.” He chuckles. “The more information you can give me, the better the chocolate will taste!”

“Thank you, Willy, but I should get going now, I didn’t realise it had gotten so dark…” I say quietly as I look outside.

“Time flies when you’re having fun.” He shrugs as we walk towards the door and I start to feel the cold breeze against my skin. “Are you cold?” He asks, tilting his head slightly.

“A little, I should’ve brought my jacket.” I dismiss with a small smile. “I’ll see you around, Willy.” I say, stepping out of the door and walking away.

About a second later, I hear him speak again. “(y/n) wait!” He says and I turn around as he walks towards me, pulling off his long magenta jacket and sliding over my shoulder.

“Now you’ll get cold.” I chuckle, pulling the coat around me a little tighter.

“I’m okay, I was getting a bit warm anyway.” He smiles before looking behind me into the night. “Can I walk you home?” He asks, sweetly.

“You want to walk me home? I don’t live very close to your store…”

“Even more reason for me to walk with you.”

“Okay, if you’d like to, I won't stop you.” I smile brightly as he walks next to me.

“You know, you look really beautiful when you smile.” He says which only makes me smile more.

“Stop.” I chuckle.

“But it’s true.” He smiles. “You’re truly the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on.” He says in a gentle but more serious tone.

“Thank you.” I whisper looking up to him before resting my head on his shoulder as we walk. “You’re really an incredible guy.”

“Ah, I just make chocolate.” He chuckles.

“Really good chocolate.” I smile. “And you make it look really pretty and your shop is incredible. I’ll have to come by more often.”

“I’d like that.” He pauses “May I hold your hand?” He asks gently after a short pause and I reach my hand out to his

Once we reach my home, I turn around to face him.

“This is me.” I smile. “I’m sorry you had to walk so far.”

“It was worth it.” He brings my hand to his face, pressing his lips against my hand again.

“Here, let me get your coat.” I say, beginning to slide the coat off of my shoulders but he stops me.

“Keep it, it gives you a reason to come back and see me again.” He says with a small smirk.

“Sneaky, very sneaky.” I chuckle, letting the jacket rest on my shoulders. “Get home safe.” I smile, as he begins to walk away.

It takes me a few seconds to fight my thoughts off before I call for him.

“Willy?” He turns around to face me, standing about eight steps away.

I walk quickly towards him, pressing my lips against his briefly before pulling away. “I’ll see you in a few days.” I whisper with a soft smile.

“You’re not gonna see me for a few days after pulling that stunt?” He asks with a playful expression causing me to chuckle and nod. “Well, I look forward to seeing you again.” He smiles brightly.

“I won’t keep you waiting too long.” I smile before going inside my house, shutting the door after he walks out of sight. I let out a breath as I have to fight a smile, excited to see the chocolatier again.

AN: I love this movie with my whole heart!

Hope you enjoyed reading!

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cassie48 · 2 months

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∙ 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘤𝘺 ∙

(Eventual)Dark!Paul Atreides x fem pregnant reader

• Pt 1 •

࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎

You and Paul grew up together on Caladan. You were born on the same day, on the same hour. Paul’s mother lady Jessica had always seen you as a daughter and for some unknown reason, insisted that you and her son always stay together.

When you and Paul grew to become teenagers, feelings became involved, and a powerful love blossomed. When the two of you heard you had to leave for Arrakis, you were both petrified. But you knew everything would be ok, as long as you stayed together.

When the two of you arrived to the planet, the local fremen called Paul the “Lisan al-Gaib” and you the “malaka”. Neither of you knew what that meant. So, walking hand in hand, you glanced at each other, both your faces full of confusion and curiosity.

When you were told that the names meant 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 and 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘦𝘯, both of you were confused.

The night before the imperial Sardaukar troops invaded Arrakis, you found out you were pregnant. It was a complete shock and you and Paul were barely 20. You told Paul as soon as you found out. He comforted you, saying the baby was a blessing, and you two would get through it together.

When the troops came in, all hell broke lose. Thankfully you made it out with Paul, and met lady Jessica before running for the hills. Your hand went to your belly, complete fear consuming you. You three managed to get a plane and fly out.

After surviving a storm, and a long, dangerous journey, the three of you ended up in Fremen territory. You met Chani, who was sceptical of your boyfriend, but seemed to like you.

One man was not happy with your arrival and even challenged Jessica. Paul fought for her, killing the man, after a long brutal fight.

As soon as he had done it, he walked straight up to you, he looked full of power and confidence.

“It’s ok my love” he had told you as he hugged you close to him, his hand eventually resting on you belly. Jessica had told you she was pregnant as well, which eased up your nerves, knowing you two would get through it together.

After a good few weeks with the Fremen, Paul learned the ways of the Fremen being taught by stilgar , you tried to do what you could , which was little as you were now coming up to almost 4 months pregnant.

It all changed when Paul rode his first sand worm, you stood with the Fremen watching along with them as you saw Paul do nearly the impossible, smiling at him

All the Fremen beside you stared yelling out 𝗟𝗶𝘀𝗮𝗻 𝗮𝗹-𝗚𝗮𝗶𝗯, some walking up to you before kneeling, and taking your hand yelling out 𝗠𝗮𝗹𝗮𝗸𝗮, praising you

You were confused and scared, and just wanted your boyfriend to hold you. More and more people came up to you grabbing your hand, until suddenly you began to cry. You don’t really know why, but your emotions had been all over the place with your pregnancy.

As soon as Stilgar saw you crying he yelled out at the Fremen, asking them 𝘋𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘶𝘱𝘴𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘢𝘩? 𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘤𝘳𝘺!

Immediately they stopped, backing away with whispered apologies to you. When you told Paul later he was outraged.

“Do they think they can grab you like that? You are pregnant they could have hurt you or the baby!” He yelled out, pure rage in his voice.

“It’s ok Paul real-“ you started

“No. It’s not, you were crying, Chani told me. This has to stop” is all he said before pulling you into a hug, you resting your head on his shoulder, his head resting on your own.

Jessica had told you she thinks your baby’s is a boy, you believe her, as she is now the reverend mother. She had really changed, it scared you.

The Fremen and Paul continued fighting against the Sardauker troops, most were very successful. Sadly they blew up the temple, where many had been inside and where they prayed and laid their loved ones to rest.

Paul had been called down to speak with the leaders in the south of Arrakis, he took Stilgars place as he had been injured from the attack.

When you two arrived, Paul told you to go to sleep for a while, you were now seven months pregnant and your body was becoming tired more often.

After about two hours Jessica came up, yelling for you, saying Paul was in trouble. You jumped out of bed and waddled down to him as fast as you possibly could.

She told you he had drank worm blood, to gain an understanding of the prophecy and his future. She told you only your years would bring him back to life. Of course, you had already been crying, so it wasn’t so hard.

Paul gasped and sat up, coming back to reality, he glared seeing all the people surrounding them. He turned to look at you, smiling as he did, cupping your cheeks. You leant into his touch, throwing yourself into his embrace, letting many tear’s escape.

Stilgar yelled out “As it was written!” In pure shock.

“Paul why’d you do it!” You yelled, while crying into his shoulder.

“It’s ok. I understand now. This baby, it’s a miracle, 𝗛𝗲 shall rule after me” he said smiling while looking at you adoringly.

“What? I-I don’t understand! Rule?” You said still crying from the events.

“Trust me. You are the Malaka. You, are the most important woman on the planet right now. This pregnancy, it’s in the prophecy, 𝗬𝗼𝘂 were in the prophecy my love” he said properly sitting up.

“W-What?” You whispered still confused.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about any of this, you trust me don’t you” He said leaning in closer to you.

You nodded, leaning your body into his, your crying and worrying making you tired.

“Good.” Is all he said leaning into you and kissing you passionately, forgetting you two had a whole audience.

“Oh em well everybody give Lisan al-Gaib and the Malaka privacy” stilgar ordered as the Fremen left yelling out messiah words in their language.

You and Paul continued making out for around five minutes before he noticed how tired you were.

“Come my love” he said as he picked you up, holding you tightly in his arms. You leaned your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes, feeling completely safe in his embrace.

“No one will harm you, my love” he whispered as you drifted off to sleep.

࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎

There will be a pt2!!

#paul atreides #dune part two #dune 2 #timothée chalamet #paul atreides x reader #paul atreides x reader yandere #zendaya #chani kynes #austin butler #dune movie #2024 #fanfiction #florence pugh #prophecy #yandere #smut #timothee chalamet x reader

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lixzey · 6 months

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mine, forever mine.

one two

Timothée couldn't help but smile as he watched his girlfriend, Y/N, sleep peacefully. She had looked so tired that he hadn't had the heart to wake her up, even though they had planned to go stargazing tonight.

He sat beside her, taking in her beauty and breathing in the smell of her. Timothée's heart thundered in his chest as he watched her sleep, her gentle breaths like a soothing melody to his ears. In the darkness of the night, he couldn't help but feel a sense of awe and admiration for the woman who lay beside him. She was like a delicate flower, beautiful yet strong, fragile yet resilient. As he traced his fingers over her skin, he wondered how he had been lucky enough to find her in the chaos of their world. Her laughter was contagious, and her smile could brighten up even the darkest of days. She had this way of making him feel like he was the only person in the world, and he loved her for that.

Timothée remembered how they met; fate had intervened in the most unexpected way, and he was grateful for that every single day. She was his best friend, his confidante, and his lover, all rolled into one. He couldn't imagine his life without her. When they first met five years ago, Timothée thought that she was way out of his league. Saoirse had convinced him to go out with one of her friends for lunch, and it was love at first sight. Timothée remembered that day vividly. He had been so nervous; his palms were sweating, but he was determined to make a good impression. He had put on his best outfit and made sure he was impeccably groomed. When she arrived, it was like the sun had suddenly come out and lit up the entire room. She was so beautiful and graceful, like an angel that fell from heaven, and he could hardly take his eyes off of her. Somehow, she had been able to see past his awkwardness and insecurity and accept him, no questions asked. She had quickly put him at ease with her warm personality and friendly smile.

It was like a spark of electricity that lit up his world, and he never looked back. He had never felt so alive before, and he knew that he was meant to spend his life with her. From their very first date, Timothée and Y/n had created the type of bond that most people spend their entire lives searching for. It was clear that they had a connection that would never be broken, no matter the circumstance.

Timothée admired how Y/n seemed to find happiness in the simplest things, always appreciating the beauty and little wonders that life offered. Y/n didn't deserve to get all of this hate, she was the purest soul. She taught him to slow down and accept life's imperfections, something he had struggled with in the past. Every time he looked at her, he thought the same thing: how lucky he was to have her in his life. For as long as he had known her, she was soft yet resilient. She had compassion and creativity.

Timothée was beyond grateful to Saoirse for setting them up in the most unexpected way. He couldn’t imagine his life without her. Y/n completed him in ways he never knew were possible. She knew his deepest fears and his darkest secrets, and yet she loved him unconditionally. She was his rock, his safe haven, and his home.

There were so many times that Timothée was certain she was going to walk out of his life. His career always got in the way of their time for each other. He always asked himself why she was still with him after all of the shit he'd put her through, like that one time when Y/n told him she was going to make dinner for him and completely forgot. But despite his shortcomings, Y/n stayed. She loved him because of who he was, and she assured him she was not going anywhere. Timothée was sure that his woman must have the patience of a saint, because sometimes it terrified him.

Timothée wanted to show her off and brag to the world about her. He wanted to tie the knot with her and spend the rest of his life with her. But his management stood in the way of that. He imagined them sitting on the porch of a cozy house, holding hands as they watched the sun set over the horizon while their children ran around, chasing each other through the yard. He couldn't imagine anyone else he'd spend the rest of his life with.

Suddenly, he had an idea.

I'm going to show her off, whether they like it or not.

Sighing, he leaned in to kiss her forehead. “Thank you for loving me, mon amour. I'm going to make it up to you. I love you.”

“Where are you taking me, baby?“ You asked as you fidgeted with the cloth that covered your eyes. “Is the blindfold really necessary?”

Timothée chuckled. “Be patient, mon amour. We're almost there; just hang in here tight."

“Can you give me a clue where you're taking me? Come on, babyyy!” You whined, your nose scrunching in annoyance, making your boyfriend laugh.

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “Fine, laugh.”

It's been a week since the article blew up. You didn't give it any more attention; instead, you focused on your boyfriend, giving him all the love he deserves. You spent the week cooking for him, which he highly appreciated after a long day of working on the go.

Now, your boyfriend is taking you somewhere blindfolded. You had no idea where he was taking you, but knowing your boyfriend, it was another one of his surprises.

Suddenly, the car stopped abruptly. You heard your boyfriend get out of the driver's seat before opening the door on the passenger side.

"You ready, mon amour?"

“I can't see a thing; I'm absolutely ready.” You rolled your eyes at him—not that he could see it, though.

“There's my sarcastic girl.” Timothée chuckled, taking your hand in his and leading you out of the car.

Timothée slowly led you from behind, telling you when to turn and when to walk straight. After what felt like hours, Timothée finally instructed you to stop. You felt the soft grass beneath your feet and heard the faint background hum of a crowd of people. Finally, someone removed the blindfold, and you blink several times, trying to adjust to the sudden brightness. When your eyes finally adjusted, your breath caught in your throat.

The entire gazebo was lit up with twinkling lights, like thousands of stars had been scattered across the ground. Rose petals decorated the entire path leading to the middle. Timothée's family stood beside yours with huge grins plastered on their faces. Both yours and Timothée's friends were also there, smiling brightly. Bystanders stood around with cameras everywhere, trying to capture the moment. Suddenly, your eyes widened when your eyes landed on a familiar brunette; Kylie Jenner was smiling at you from the sidelines, giving you a thumbs up and silently urging you to go to your boyfriend.

You slowly walked towards your boyfriend, tears shining in your eyes as you realized what was happening. Timothée grabbed your hands, and life began to blur out around you as he began to speak.

“The very first time I laid eyes on you, I knew you were the one. You looked like an angel that fell from heaven, and I could hardly take his eyes off of you. You have this way of making me feel like I'm the only guy in the world. How have I been so lucky to find you amidst the chaos of the world? Your smile could brighten up even the darkest of days. You were like a spark of electricity that lit up my world. You taught me to slow down and accept life's imperfections. I can't imagine a life without you, mon amour. You are my rock, my safe haven, and my home.” His voice was shaky, but his words were clear and true.

Timothée fell on a bent knee, a beautiful diamond ring in his hand. His eyes were full of love and admiration. “So what do you say, my beautiful angel? Will you marry me? ”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you gazed into Timothée's green eyes. “Yes,“ you whispered, your voice barely audible over the noise of the crowd around you.

“Yes, I will marry you!” You threw your arms around him, feeling his warmth and the beat of his heart against your chest. The crowd erupted into cheers and applause, and you felt as if you were floating on cloud nine. You leaned in close to Timothée and whispered, “I love you, Timothée Chalamet,” and you meant it with all your heart and more.

Timothée slipped the ring onto your finger, and the two of you shared a kiss that felt like forever.

You couldn't believe that you were engaged to the man of your dreams, the man who had swept you off your feet and made her believe in true love. You looked around at the smiling faces surrounding the two of you, feeling overwhelmed with happiness and gratitude.

“I hope you get used to my fans looking at you, mon amour.” Timothée chuckled, wrapping his arms around your waist. “I want to take you around the world. They don't have to understand. I'm going to rub it in their face that I put a ring on your hand.”

You giggled, kissing his nose. “That'll take a bit of getting used to.”

“I'm going to show you off, whether they like it or not.”

“You're the one.” You whispered, before capturing his lips in yours. “Mine, forever mine.”

You couldn't wait to spend the rest of your life with him, the man you love, your soon-to-be husband.

Your fiancé, your future, your Timothée, yours.

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ijustwantogohomehogwarts · 8 months

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m i n e | (s e c r e t l y)

Y/n recounts the struggles of Timothée going back to work after spending time with her, knowing there's nothing she can do about it because, to the eyes of Hollywood, she doesn't exist. There's nothing she can do...as a girlfriend-

Warnings and such: established relationship, secret/private relationship, sad reader but major fluff points!

---------------------------------------------------------------------

I rolled over in bed, the gut wrenching realization that I was, once again, alone hit me before I even opened my eyes. The spot beside me was cold, covered pulled up and long abandoned...but his scent lingered. The warmth of his embrace, the feeling of his skin, his lips on mine...he was gone, but the memory burned in my mind like it was brand new- present.

I had myself convinced that I was handing this whole situation very well, he even gave me credit for how well I was 'holding it together,' and keeping everything a secret. Oh the irony in having secrets in Hollywood. I knew it was going to be hard, there was no way to make it any easier, but the façade shattered like glass each morning after he left.

It never mattered how long he was here; 12 hours or 12 weeks, it never felt like enough time. Who am I kidding- the rest of my life wouldn't be enough time to spend with him. We never wasted a moment, and made up for all the lack of physical touch until reality ripped us apart again. I'd fall asleep and convince myself that the next morning would be just the same, but nothing ever prepared me for his absence.

God, it was such a cliché thing to think! I could call him 10 times a day if I wanted, I could send him 100 text messages and FaceTime just to stare at his face! We live in a world where technology makes it almost impossible to miss someone...almost. Close isn't good enough...

I trudged around the empty apartment, the sound of his voice, the echo of his laughter; played loudly in the back of my mind. There was no trace of him. Keys, shoes, coat...all gone.

"Stop whining, he'll be back in a week!" I scolded myself in a desperate attempt to pull my head out of my ass and carry on with my life. "He's not dead!"

I made breakfast, cleaned the apartment and played music so loudly I couldn't hear my own thoughts. No thoughts, no tears. Besides, it was selfish for me to be upset: this was his life, I'm just a small part of it. He's got work to do, projects to finish and I'm so proud of him, truly I am! Who am I to hold him back from any of it because I miss him?! I turned the music up louder. No thoughts, no tears.

The afternoon rolled around and I dragged myself into the patio to enjoy the city. There was something magical about the time between when the work day ends, and the night life begins- there was a sense of calm amidst the chaos, something you only got to experience once a day. This is normally the time where I get to call him, or where he calls me, and we talk about the 9-5 grind as if either one of us had one, but I remember his speaking, as he drifted off to sleep last night, that today was going to be different. Busy. Demanding. Attention and time consuming. But he was excited, so I was excited for him.

There was no call.

When the noise started up again on the street below, I resolved myself to spend the rest of the night on the couch, watching movies and wallowing in my own self pity. I knew this feeling wouldn't last, that in the next day or two life would go back to the way it was before he was here, and the cycle would repeat itself. The thought of giving it up never crossed my mind...the days we were together made it all worth it. I was just a person who got too attached and I know that I would eventually learn to handle this better...good things take time after all.

I turned to shut the door, my eyes glancing over the table for the first time all day. It took another glance to notice that something on it didn't belong to me. The undeniable sparkle of designer diamonds. A ring. His ring. One of them anyway.

Maillon Panthere Ring. Cartier. $12,000. Maybe more.

Sticker shock is still very, very real.

He's left things here before, why wouldn't he, but this seemed like too much to simply forget. Shoes and t shirts were one thing, but he's never left something he wears regularly, something so expensive. I smiled, realizing that it was undoubtedly a mistake, and he had days where he would loose his own head of it wasn't attached.

"Missing something?" I texted him, though I didn't expect a response.

I set the ring down on the bathroom counter and indulged myself in a shower that lasted all too long. I threw on a pair of sweatpants and a t shirt that didn't belong to me and picked up the ring again. Funny, I had seen it so many times since he bought it, but it looked much different not wrapped around his fingers. I spun it around my own, blushing feverishly when I realized the only one it fit was my ring finger.

My phone chimed, drawing me quickly out of my thoughts.

"You. Filming on Astoria Boulevard probably until midnight...it's beautiful here. I'll bring you sometime! Call you tonight? xoxo"

Would it really be so wrong...

I jumped off the couch, giddy like a child on Christmas with a plan that would either end horribly or wonderfully, but if I was careful, the latter was the only option. I made myself presentable, without putting in too much effort for the sake of time constraint, pulled on a pair of shoes and a sweatshirt (which also didn't belong to me) and headed out the door.

I walked quickly towards the subway station a few blocks away, my knuckles turning white as I gripped the ring still on my finger. Astoria Boulevard in Queens was about an hour away, and I could only hope he was serious about being there well into the night, or this would be an all for nothing excursion out of the house.

There was a small group of people, only about 12 maybe and mostly girls, giddy with excitement and staring through their phone screens. If that wasn't enough to give away that they were all still there, the sidewalk closures, flood lights and film equipment was. I stepped over the barrier and slipped in with the group when no one was looking, though it didn't appear to be a big deal that they were there so what was one more? I made my way to the front, stopping when my fluttering in my chest became near overwhelming.

"Isn't he dreamy?" Someone whispered beside me.

"I hope we get to meet him!" Someone else replied.

"QUIET ON THE SET!"

Like a light switch, the world fell silent around us. The people beside me all hit record simultaneously and watched the magic unfold in front of them.

"ACTION."

There wasn't a whole lot to see from where we stood, but for a moment, I saw a mess of dark curls. I didn't need to see the face that they belonged to to instantly recognize him.

Him.

Everything came flooding back: the sound of his raspy voice, his lips on my neck, bare skin on bare skin, his fingers laced in mine. The smell of his skin, damp with sweat as he fought to catch his breath. I wonder if anyone had caught sight of the faint red lines down his back, or the dark purple bruises on his hips. My fingers instinctively traced my collar bone, knowing that I had matching bruises just below the fabric of this sweatshirt. My cheeks felt warm- warmer still when the train doors open and my eyes instantly fell to him.

I took in every inch of him; savoring the fact this was one of the very few times I was able to do so in public. There was an overwhelming feeling of excitement, a fear of being caught, though to anyone else I was a fan, nothing more. I felt my pulse quicken as adrenaline coursed through my body:

"I've kissed him. I've ran my fingers though his hair. I've shared a bed with him. I have his number saved in my phone. I'm wearing his clothes. I've seen him naked. I-"

Okay, simmer down.

"CUT!"

"That was great guys! Let's take 5 and we'll try to wrap this up."

There was a commotion of equipment moving and people shuffling around, but through it all I caught glimpses of Martin Scorsese (which was awe inspiring on it's own) and his muse. His beautiful, beautiful muse. The people beside me grew louder, desperate to capture his attention.

"Guys," The man who appeared to be assigned 'Crowd Control' turned towards us. "He knows you're here, he'll come say 'hello' when we're all done. Please let him finish or you're going to have to leave." He was met with muttered apologies, but didn't seem to mind.

I've never gotten to watch him work before, but there was something about it that was so...intoxicating. I already knew he poured everything into his projects, but watching him make it come to life was stunning. He took direction, looked, moved, breathed as instructed. I smiled when the rain machine came out and watched him slowly get drenched, curls sticking to his head, his white shirt becoming sheer...

I stared, unabashedly, until the final 'cut.'

"He'll be out in 10 minutes." crowd control guy spoke.

Almost to the second, the official new face of Chanel jogged around the corner. Clad in heavy sweatpants, t shirt and jacket, his hair was still damp and there was music blaring from his phone. The fans around me were screaming, though defiantly not as loud as I'm sure they have before, seeing how few of us there was. He stopped just short of the barrier, eyes locked on me, and froze.

I bit back a smile, watching him do the same as a beautiful color painted his cheeks. I dropped my head and stared at my fingers when I couldn't control myself any longer. I pulled his ring off my finger and rolled it around in my hand. I stole glanced as he made his way down the line. He was a model (literally) celebrity: doting on his fans, signing every autograph, making small talk, taking pictures...he was genuinely happy to be with them, and I know without a shadow of a doubt he would act just the same if I wasn't there.

"Don't be shy," his voice washed over me, hand touching my arm quickly. "I'm Timothee Chalamet, what's your name?"

"I'm [The nickname he gave you], it's nice to meet you!"

I stifled a laugh as the color in his cheeks began to match my nail polish. I rolled his ring back and forth between my fingers, eyes flickering between his and my hand. In public he was quick on his feet; he ran his hand from my shoulder down to my hand, taking the ring from me leaving no one next to us any wiser. In private, this may have taken him quite a few minutes to realize.

"I like your sweatshirt," A shit eating grin was plastered on his face. "I have the same one, but I seem to have lost it."

"Well, I hope you find it! It's very comfortable!"

"Yeah. I know!"

"You looked great out there! I can't wait to see the final commercial. When does it come out?"

"Thank you! Yeah, I'm not sure, but I'm sure you'll all see pictures soon!" He turned to everyone else who began cheering. "Say cheese!" He called, holding his phone above his head.

We all huddled together and he snapped a picture. I've seen a few like this on his phone- he never deleted them. He looked at me for a moment longer before asking, shyly, if i wanted a picture too. It would match the ones I already have, sure, this felt different...like a risqué little thing I wasn't supposed to have. Of course I said yes!

"Everybody get home safe, okay? Thanks for coming out and I appreciate your cooperation! I hope to see you guys soon!"

Tim turned his back towards the crowd and whispered something to crowd control guy. He turned back and waved enthusiastically at everyone who was being escorted away, though I couldn't help but notice the ring that suddenly adorned his finger was gesturing towards the ground, the same way you would tell a dog to 'stay.'

I walked impossibly slow behind everyone else, and as they rounded the corner, I fell back, following Mr. Crowd Control. He must know...right? Does everyone who works on these types of projects sign nondisclosure agreements? They must, right?

"Are you trying to give me a heart attack?" Tim laughed, falling in step with us as we made our way through what was left of the make-shift set.

"You're young, you'll be fine!" He tried to act offended and even made Crowd Control chuckle.

"Wanna meet Scorsese?"

"No! I look like a bum!"

"Excuse you!" He laughed, tugging on the sleeve of my sweatshirt. "Come on, it'll be quick, we gotta clear out anyway."

Martin Scorsese was a very nice man, though firm and to the point. He admired Timothee and told me, very sternly, to not let him doubt himself. 'He's going places, just you wait!' All of this I already knew, but nodded along enthusiastically. To Scorsese, I was just a 'childhood friend,' which isn't a lie, and though I don't think he would care who I really was to Tim either way, perhaps it was best that the less people that know the better.

"Thank you for the delivery," Tim smiled, wiggling his fingers in front of him. "but you didn't have to come all the way down here to do that!"

"Fine, give it back!"

"Wait- no!"

We stood quietly in a corner while everyone was packed up, finding any excuse to touch or otherwise look at each other. It wasn't long (enough) until Tim's driver came. The feelings which I had first thing in the morning, that lingered through the day began to return...loneliness began to wash over me as I was desperate to hold him. Regretfully, Tim had a redeye flight to catch and had to be to the airport in a few short hours- there was no way I could ask him to come back home for one more night.

"It's not long this time," I reminded myself. "9 days and he'll be back for 3 weeks!"

Still, I couldn't help myself and I watched as my fingers reached for one of his own.

"Do you mind if we take her home first?"

"Tim-"

"Not at all! We should get going though..."

His driver pulled the car around and I got in on the blindside, just in case. There was a strategy to doing- and therefore getting away with- just about everything in Hollywood. I had so much to learn! I rested my head on his shoulder, fingers interlaced as we rode in silence back to my apartment. It was nice. THIS was the kind of intimacy I was going to miss with him.

9 days, I reminded myself.

The rest of the night was a blur, even more so when the headlights disappeared down the road, and I could no longer see my hand in front of my face though the tears. I could feel the pleasant sting on my lips where they began to swell slightly, and I groaned audibly, desperate to have him back already. This of course made me frustrated because I had no logical reason to cry, so I cried some more and the cycle continued.

I woke up the next morning with a splitting headache but immediately reached for my phone. 10 text messages, 1 missed call.

-I love you! -I'm so fucking lucky to have you in my life! -I'll call you when I land, but it will be late, please don't wait up for me! *1 missed call* -Thank you :) -I miss you already :( -You have no idea how happy I was to see you tonight! -Like, OMGGGG that's my babbyyyyy -Fucking beautiful! -I'm going to go to bed....but I wish you were here! -I love you! I love you! I love you!

I smiled to myself and began reading over the messages before they dropped to the bottom.

-Bien matin, mon amour :)

-TIMOTHEE HAL CHALAMET

-I literally just woke up, there's nothing I could have done yet-

- I FUCKING LOVE YOU

-lol I love you more!

*Incoming FaceTime call*

"Good morning," I yawned at the boy who was still in his own bed.

"Good morning...I don't have to go anywhere for a few more hours...If you want to go back to sleep..."

"Not without you..."

"I'm not hanging up."

I'm happy the world doesn't get to see this side of Timothee Chalamet...this is the type of intimacy that I want to keep all to myself- all the intimate moments for that matter, but even when we're old and grey and celebrating 50 years of marriage, this is the type of thing I'll hold most precious. I am undeniably IN love with him.

My muse. My beautiful boy. My baby. My Timothee.

Mine.

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lex-the-flex · 1 month

Text

Drinking the Water of Life

Paul Atreides x reader

He didn't want this. He never wanted this to happen. So why now? And why did it have to you?

From the moment Paul Atreides claimed his Fremen name, he prayed this wouldn't have to happen. But it did. While his mind was clear and open, yours remained foggy and closed off. If it was up to him, he would've kept you there, with your limited visions of the future.

But he loved you with all his heart.

And he couldn't see you suffer any longer without him. Paul chose you to rule at his side, after all.

Returning to your place in the shared communal room, Paul offers you a small smile before returning to his meal.

"How are you? I haven't seen you all day." He whispered so only you could hear.

"I'm alright. The water extractors are holding up. You should've seen all the packs I had to carry. Stilgar was impressed that I could carry thirty pounds for three straight miles." You explain.

Finally being able to relax at Paul's side, you notice how his blue within blue eyes look at you. While he's proud of you, something else lingers behind his orbs.

"Paul, what is it?" You ask.

Setting down his bowl, he takes your hands in his with a gentle grasp. Calmly stroking his fingers over your knuckles, he leans closer, his lips inches from your ear.

"I need you to travel South with me. Just the two of us, on a private mission before the others make the journey. I need you by my side, Y/N." He explains.

Calmly nodding your head, you instantly knew what he meant: you had to drink the Water of Life. The others knew it too, spreading rumors that stung like needles into your back. How you weren't worthy of loving Paul, the Muad'dib. Even the other Fremen began to question your loyalty.

As you were an outsider like Paul and his mother, Jessica, you remained faithful to House Atreides as it was one of the final commands given to you by Duke Leto himself. But now you had to truly prove yourself, you had to show everyone why Paul chose you above any other Fremen girl in your sietch.

"Okay, Paul. I will follow your hand until the very end. I will follow Muad'dib, my Usul, with an open heart." You declare as he pulls you in for a loving embrace.

*****

Guiding you further into the Southern temple, Paul never lets go of your hand. The beautiful sanctuary pulls you in with its calming circular architecture and stillness. Leading you to the main chamber, Paul is welcomed by another Fremen fundamentalist showing him the utmost respect.

Discovering a pool of water, you wander over to it before noticing the presence of a small sandworm swimming in the cloudy liquid. Scrunching your brows at the rapidly moving creature, Paul places his hand on your shoulder.

"It's time, Y/N."

Joining Paul and the Fremen member, she holds a jar containing a bright blue liquid that appears even sharper than the blue within blue eyes themselves. Feeling your breath catch in the back of your throat, you begin to panic, even taking a step away from Paul.

Placing a hand over your chest, your bare fingertips try to find solace in the sand covered stillsuit, and your own heartbeat echoes against your eardrums.

"It's alright. It's alright, Y/N. I'm here." Paul advises, leaning his forehead against yours.

Holding the nape of your neck in his hands, his dark curls tickle the edge of your face.

"I... I don't know if I can do this, Paul. I can't fail you." You say as your lip begins to quiver.

"You can. I believe in you. House Atreides believes you. You can do this, Y/N, just as your Usul before you." Paul replies, stroking your cheek.

Calming your breathing, you quietly nod before Paul, coming to your decision.

Laying down in between the stone pools, the Fremen offers you the glass bottle, lowering the top of the spout into your open mouth. Drinking the cold liquid, you swallow the water, and it enters your system. Taking your hand in his, Paul rubs your knuckles whilst your body goes numb.

Convulsing on the stone, every inch of your body writhes in pain, from the temples on your head, to your very reproductive system. A terrifying scream releases from your damp lips as the visions of the future, past, and present dance along the thin skin of your eyelids. Then, as soon as they appear, the prophecies of the future disappear within seconds.

You were cold, numb, in between the land of the living and the dead.

Offering the bottle to Paul, tears begin to fall on his face, and he mixes the salty drops with the freshwater.

Pressing the water to your lips, Paul bends down and kisses you lips, allowing you to return to him once more.

Feeling his lips leave your own, your eyes open, and you are awake. Your mind was open and Paul took you into his lap, studying your new set of eyes with all the love he could give you.

taglist ~

@dreamliners

@visionsofsweettea

@xplore-the-unknwn

@kaleidoscope1967eyes

@shions-new-blog-of-stuff

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all-my-love-for-harry · 2 years

Text

[ requests are open ]

these stories + more stories can be found on my wattpad

series;

Lover. [coming soon]

one shots;

my happy little pill. [ oc ]

social media au;

around the world.

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hiatuswhore · 2 years

Text

𝕦𝕘𝕙, 𝕙𝕚𝕘𝕙 𝕤𝕔𝕙𝕠𝕠𝕝 — 𝕥𝕔

previous — masterlist — next

Word Count: 2.4K

A/N: I have been struggling with writers block so I’ve been posting some works I wrote a while back but never put up. Let me know what you think. Feedbacks a good motivator! In my head I picture Shelley Hennig as Ivy, Diana Silvers as Marina, Daniel Sherman as Declan, Lili Reinhart as Mackenzie, and Camila Mendes as Bianca.

SUMMARY: Ugh, high school. Best four years of nothing. Raging mood swings and sporadic acne. All on top of balancing mean girls, douche bag guys, and cocky jocks. Best four years? Yikes image peaking in high school.

I can list several things I cannot stand. I could start with my Mom’s overbearing need to talk about her high school glory days, or my Dad’s never-ending trophies in nearly everything. My list continues for things such as romantic comedies, jean leggings, and platinum blonde hair. Do not tell Ivy about that she is one break-up away from cutting her hair and dying it blonde. I love her to pieces but she is a wildcard with a knack for trouble and a high social media following. Trust me when I say do not look at her Tik Tok. Her high following and verification coming from her looks and problematic prank videos.

“Hello? (Y/n) are you listening?” Marina asked, sitting across from me at the lunch table she types away on her laptop rambling profusely. She delicately placed flowers through her hair with half of it pinned up. She wears a cute white camisole with a beige boho cardigan that reaches the hem of her jeans. Resembling a pretty hippy, it works on her. Apologizing, I ask her to repeat herself but she only rambles about Ivy being in detention. Oddly enough Marina is on the opposite end of the continuum from Ivy. Not only the cheer captain, but one can make it a game of trying to find what club she is not a part of. Even started her own anti-bullying campaign. “So you’re not listening?”

“I’m sorry Mina. I didn’t get much sleep last night because somebody was busy practicing his guitar at all hours of the night.” I groan looking over at the guy’s table. It was a mixture of faces in the masses. No set groups at their table, the mix of guys come from all sports teams and clubs. At the center of the table sits Timmy laughing at something. You know those people you grew up with when you were little but now they just annoy the shit out of you. Yeah, that’s Chalamet, as cliche, as it is the perfect-haired idiot, is my neighbor. We grew up next to each other, yes there is a picture of us bathing together as kids. It is the bane of my existence. Yes, we are still friends but more so a down low thing. Him being the soccer goalie made him this big deal and me being virtually no one makes our friendship odd at school.

“I ordered our homecoming tickets online,” Opening my mouth to protest she quickly shrugs me off. “You have to come, it'll be no fun without you.”

“You’ll both have dates. What am I going to do? Just linger awkwardly?” Biting into my cold fry it lacks salt making me want to spit it out. Marina closes her laptop and turns to her salad she brought from home.

“Ivy and I could find you a date,” Though I have every intention of saying no I miss my opportunity as Mackenzie and Bianca sit next to us. In their cheering uniforms, they wear it every day like it is a badge of honor. It screams pick-me but everyone does pick them so the behavior is enabled.

“Hey, Marina, where's Ivy?” Mackenzie asks, scooting to the side allowing her some space both she and Bianca fail to spare me a single glance. I can see on Marina’s face that she has no interest in talking to either of them but she plants a warm smile on her face. Despite her distaste for the two most clueless people on the planet that is what I love about Marina, she is kind to everyone.

“In detention for calling Coach Hoffman an asshole,” The laugh that leaves my lips contrast the two girls’ wide eyes.

“Anyways we came over with invites for you and Ivy. Party at my place tonight. My parents are out of town.” Bianca’s raven black hair is straightened to perfection. She shuffles through her Michael Kors purse before pulling out two envelopes. Marina looks at me as she thinks it over in her head.

“Ivy will kill us both if we turned this down so yeah we’ll all be there,” For the first time since they sat at the table their eyes drift to me. I smile sheepishly as they look me up and down. Mackenzie grits her teeth as she smiles at me.

“That’s the thing (Y/n) you need an actual invite to get in and I only have a certain amount. I’ll let you know if anything changes,” I am no idiot, I know she is lying, the faux smile and honey tone holds more poison than anything.

“Problem solved.” Handing me half of her invite I bite back a laugh as Marina rips it in half. Both Bianca and Mackenzie feign chuckles as they excuse themselves leaving the two of us to watch them purposely walk by the guys’ table. Marina shakes her as she turns back to her salad. “Those two are something else.”

“I’ll catch you later I have a photography club meeting,” I say and Marina only smiles before going onto her phone. Unlike Bianca and Mackenzie, I actually have to pass the guy’s table to walk over to the dish return. It is okay though because none of them even turn from their conversations except one pair of eyes. Timothee’s lips pull into a smirk before he shoots me a wink. Smiling sarcastically I flipped him off before continuing on.

Mrs. Klotz wastes no time diving into the agenda for the following weeks. Since I arrive a few minutes late it leaves me with the bottom of the barrel for what event to cover. Of course, there is only one event that no one wants to do, the homecoming dance. As the meetings adjourned I wait for everyone to leave the room, the meeting was brief, and yet so much was covered.

“Mrs. Klotz please don’t make me cover the homecoming dance. I don’t even want to go.” I say, closing the club binder she places it in her desk before resting her hands on the desk. She wears glasses that frame her face with her auburn hair, all the guys like to creep on her due to her being fresh out of college.

“I thought it’d be perfect for you (Y/n). I even saw you purchased a ticket,” Mrs. Klotz explains as her eyebrows pull together slightly she tilts her head to the side. I mirror her expression before I remember what Marina had said.

“No, that was Marina. I’m pretty sure what she is attempting is entrapment,” I say, sitting on the edge of the desk behind me I watch as Mrs. Klotz frowns.

“Well, first that is detention for Miss Monroe. The online ticketing policy states students cannot buy tickets for other students,” My stomach flips for a moment as I realize what I have done.

“Did I say Marina sorry I get those two mixed up. It was Ivy who ordered the tickets,” Knowing Ivy would not care as she has been in detention more than she has ever been in class. None of this matters as Mrs. Klotz only apologizes before writing Ivy up and telling me there is no one else who can do it. “I assume you can give this detention slip to Miss Porter.”

In the hallway, I stop as my phone vibrates in my pocket. Ivy sent a text in the group chat telling us to meet her in the computer lab. Walking through the halls my arms fall at my side like dead limbs as I sulk through the corridors. It smells like sweat and pizza from the cafeteria and every couple of lockers is a candy wrapper or abandoned worksheet. Whoever the hell said high school was the best four years of your life, lied. In the computer lab, both Marina and Ivy are already there. Ivy is wearing a tube top with a denim jacket and legging. She is breaking the dress code as usual but it is getting to a point where the faculty do not even care what she wears. I am almost certain Ivy could show up in a bikini and no one would be fazed. Handing her the detention slip her eyebrows pull together.

��Wait what did I do this time?” She asks, explaining the situation she laughs at me before turning to Marina, “Since I am now the sacrificial lamb I would love to talk about that super cute sheer tank top you refuse to let me wear.”

“You get to wear it once then it goes back in my closet,” Marina says, rolling her eyes at the extortion. I look to Ivy asking why she summoned both of us to the computer lab but she only shrugs saying she got bored. There are still ten minutes to spare before the warning bell goes off. Marina hands Ivy the invite to the party and the two giggle amongst themselves about it but I only groan.

“Wait, this is a perfect time to figure out a date for (Y/n) for homecoming. How about Jack Ribas?” Marina says, looking through her Instagram followers as the short boy came to mind I can remember he was my chemistry partner.

“Tiny hands,” I cannot fight the grimace on my face as Ivy laughs before going on her Instagram. The real answer being his ex-girlfriend, she rarely speaks and I am sure she is the reason he has not dated in over a year.

“What about Mark Warshaw?” Ivy asked, earning a nudge from Marina as she is clearly not taking it seriously.

“He smells terrible. Come on,” I say, leaning back in my seat this only furthers how much I do not want to go to homecoming. Marina continues looking through her phone and I cannot say I do not appreciate her wanting to help.

“Terrance Avecedo?” As the name left her lips I could not help but stare at her with eyes I can only imagine appeared crazed.

“You mean my cousin? Dude,” I say as Marina apologizes profusely there is one guy I would not absolutely hate the idea of going with. Just my luck he and a few of his buddies walk by the computer lab. Declan Knight, once again it’s super cliche but he’s the football quarterback and captain. Timothee found it more than hilarious my crush on the 6’2 curly-haired beau.

“Hey, Ivy. Hey, Marina,” He says, popping his head into the computer lab and they both say hey Declan at the same time before he turns to me. “Hey, (Y/n).”

The feeling of panic rushes every inch of me as I force out a chuckle before breathlessly saying, “Hey.”

“Real smooth,” Fortunately Ivy says this as Declan is already continuing on wherever he is walking toward. Marina once again nudges Ivy as I put my head down groaning loudly.

“I am going to my locker. Please leave me to sulk about my day in peace.” I say and I hear Marina yell love you, saying it back I do not turn around. Everyone is in the hallways always playing it dangerously close to the late bell. At my locker, I can see Timothee walking toward my locker.

“Double-A.” He says, looking at me with his usual shit-eating grin, I frown as we rarely speak in school.

“Timmy. Shouldn’t you be ducking behind something to talk to me here?” He only chuckles. Girls would kill for him to walk up to the locker and chat yet I would pay him right now to walk away from me. Only wearing a simple long sleeve shirt, jeans, and converse he is still somehow a hot commodity at school.

“Funny. Also what the hell were you watching last night. It gave me soft porn vibes but very cinematic,” He asks and I shift on the balls of my feet as his grin widens. So I decided to watch that movie 365 on Netflix which was one of the cringest things I have ever seen.

“Spying on me much?” But once again I earn a laugh before he says that I should close my curtains more often. “Maybe don’t look in my window.”

“Noted. Where’s your girls at?” He asks scanning the hall for Marina and Ivy I close my locker. Crossing my arms I look at him asking who wants to know but the smirk on his lips reappears. “The only man in your life. No, your Dad does not count. So that leaves me, you are very welcome.”

“I can assure my love. You would not be in my life even if you were the only man on the planet.” I said, watching as he places his hand over his heart feigning pain. He wastes no time in quoting Marina’s anti-bullying campaign motto, Spread the Love. “Shut up jackass.”

“Timothee,” Mackenzie says and the high pitch of her voice makes me grimace as I look away. She pulls him into a kiss that lasts a couple of seconds longer than needed. The two are the most indecisive couple I have ever seen. I’ll break it down like this, today is Wednesday. Monday they were dating, Tuesday they were not, today is a big question mark and tomorrow is still a coin toss. This does not stop Timmy from being a total whore when they are broken up. I’m pretty sure Mackenzie still does not know Timothee hooked up with Bianca. I narrow my eyes as Mackenzie looks at me as she kisses Timothee. The urge to promise her I have no interest in the mop-headed idiot is strong but instead, I just stand there.

“Hey still here,” Placing my hands in my pocket I look down at the tiles as Mackenzie pulls back.

“Gosh, (Y/n) I am so sorry. Since when were you friends with my ex-boyfriend?” She asks, smiling kindly but it is clearly fake. I have no intention of outing our lifelong friendship but I have no time to even say anything before Timothee chimes in.

“We’re not just asking for some notes. What does it matter anyway?” Timothee asks, looking at Mackenzie who gives him a doe-eyed pout. Gagging as she pulls him into another kiss.

“I know you miss me.” She says before stalking off and I cannot help but now smirk at him.

“Healthy thing you got going there,” I say but he rolls his eyes before walking down the hall away from me. The rest of the day feels uneventful, the girls and I agree to meet at my house to get ready for the party. Which translates to them already ready and helping me insisting on staying home.

#timothée chalamet fanfiction #timothee x you #timothée imagine #timothee chalamet x reader #timothée chalamet au #timothée fanfic #timothée chalamet imagine #timothée chalamet #Shelly hennig imagine #Diana silvers imagine #Daniel sharman imagine #lili reinhart imagine #camila Mendes imagine

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redskull199987 · 2 months

Text

Concubine

Paul Atreides x fem!reader Part II

Word Count:1.6k

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

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

Part I / Masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Explosion pulled you out of your Trance.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And Chani seemed to realize it too.

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

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

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

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

It was a Promise that he would become the Emperor.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Only I will remain.”

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