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#timothee x reader
fragileheartbeats · 2 days
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⌗ 𝘛𝘊 𝘏𝘊 ⁝ 𝘊𝘶𝘵𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘥𝘰 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱 ( ♡ )
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Timothée always remembers the little things - like how you take your coffee or your favorite flower, surprising you with them just to brighten your day.
He's an expert at giving warm, comforting hugs that seem to melt all your worries away.
Whenever he sees something that reminds him of you, he can't help but buy it, accumulating little tokens of love.
He writes small, heartfelt notes and hides them in places for you to find, each one making your heart flutter.
Timothée loves planning surprise dates, tailored perfectly to things that you enjoy, showing how much he pays attention to your likes and dislikes.
He's always the first one to apologize after an argument, not because he thinks you're right, but because your happiness means more to him than his pride.
Timothée listens intently whenever you speak, making you feel heard and understood, his green eyes reflecting genuine interest.
When you're feeling down, he's there with your favorite movie and snacks, ready for a cozy night in.
Timothée has a playlist for every mood of yours, and knows exactly when to play which song to lift your spirits.
He loves holding hands, interlocking fingers with yours, making you feel safe and connected.
Timothée creates a photo album of your moments together, captioning each picture with a sweet or funny memory.
He supports your dreams unconditionally, encouraging you to pursue what makes you happiest.
Timothée makes you feel safe and loved with his constant, unwavering loyalty and kindness.
He values deep, meaningful conversations under the stars, sharing dreams, fears, and everything in between.
He always knows how to make you laugh, even on your gloomiest days, with his quirky humor and lighthearted antics.
Whenever he talks about the future, it's always "we" and "us," making you feel included and loved.
He always makes sure to kiss you goodnight and good morning, starting and ending each day with a gesture of love.
Timothée sends you good morning and goodnight texts without fail, ensuring he's the first and last thing on your mind each day.
He loves cuddling, especially on lazy mornings, making it hard for you to get out of bed.
Timothée warms up the bed for you on cold nights, making sure you're comfortable and cozy.
He leaves voicemails saying he misses you or just to say "I love you," giving you something to treasure when you're apart.
Timothée learns and cooks your favorite dishes, striving to make them just right, filling the house with delicious smells.
He's always gently pushing you out of your comfort zone, helping you grow and experience new things.
You catch him staring at you with such adoration when he thinks you're not looking, his green eyes shining.
Timothée has a special nickname for you, one that he uses with such tenderness it always brings a smile to your face.
He's always interested in your day, listening intently and engaging in every detail you share.
Timothée holds you close during thunderstorms, making you feel protected and cherished.
On your anniversary, he makes a point to recreate your first date, adding a twist that makes it even more special.
He surprises you with a small, thoughtful gift on random days, just because he loves seeing your reaction.
Timothée supports your dreams unconditionally, even if it means making sacrifices on his part.
He takes time to learn about and engage in your hobbies, even if they're not his usual interests.
Timothée looks into your eyes with such adoration, making you feel like the only person in the world.
Your comfort is his priority; he'll lend you his jacket without a second thought if you're cold.
Timothée creates a playlist of songs that are significant to your relationship, each track telling a part of your story.
He whispers sweet nothings in your ear, sending shivers down your spine and making your heart flutter.
Timothée always makes sure you get home safely, showing his care and concern for your wellbeing.
He plans trips to places he knows you've always wanted to visit, making dreams come true.
Timothée has this habit of whispering "I love you" in your ear at the most unexpected moments.
He's not afraid to show his vulnerability with you, sharing his fears and dreams openly.
Whenever you achieve something, no matter how small, he celebrates it as if it were his own achievement.
Timothée creates a cozy space at his place for you, making sure you always feel welcome and at home.
He is patient with you, understanding that everyone has their flaws and loving you all the more for yours.
Timothée makes a habit of saying "I love you" in different languages, making each declaration of love unique and romantic.
He teaches you new things, whether it's a skill he has or interesting facts he knows, enriching your life.
Timothée keeps a journal of your relationship, documenting thoughts, feelings, and memorable moments.
He insists on taking selfies together, wanting to capture every moment with you.
Timothée makes you feel loved and cherished every single day, in countless little ways.
He's your biggest advocate, always encouraging you to believe in yourself as much as he believes in you.
And finally, no matter how busy he is, Timothée always makes time for you, showing that you are his priority.
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@ 𝒇𝒓𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒔 . 𝐷𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑔𝑖𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑠𝑒, 𝑟𝑒𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡, 𝑜𝑟 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑠𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑦 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑘𝑠 𝑜𝑛 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑜𝑟 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑠𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑠.
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roxygen22 · 1 day
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Sick Timothee with fem reader as caretaker plz ❤️
Thanks to You
Summary: Fem!reader takes care of feverish Laurie
A/N: Decided to write using Timothee's Laurie as the main character because the time period makes fevers much more scary.
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Laure's restless stirring awakened you. You blinked, unable to focus since it was still dark out. You reached your hand out to place gentle, comforting pressure on his arm, as you often did if he was suffering a nightmare, but instantly drew it back in shock. He was putting off more heat than your fireplace.
You grabbed the oil lamp on your nightstand and raised the flame. There was a sheen of sweat blanketing his forehead and chest, though he was shivering like he had been out in the snow. "Fever," you breathed out worriedly.
You jumped out of bed and quickly set to work gathering supplies. You immersed a cloth in water and wrung it out to place on his forehead. You rubbed the herb poultice Mrs. March had shown you how to make onto the soles of his feet and covered them with socks. He shifted his head side to side, mumbling your name.
"[Y/N], [Y/N]," he muttered weakly.
You ran your fingers through his damp curls. "I'm here, my love. I'm here."
"[Y/N]?" Laurie's glazed eyes opened, but they never focused on you.
He's delirious, you thought to yourself. You looked out the window, countenance falling as you realized the blizzard meant you could not send for help. The whole town was snowed in. "You have to get better, Laurie," you stated as you cradled your slight baby bump with your free hand.
He became slightly more alert as the dawn arrived. You took the opportunity to get him to drink some water. He was shaking so much from the throes of fever that he could not hold the cup without spilling. You sat beside him to support his head and hold the cup to his lips. You were grateful to see that at least some water made it into his mouth. Exhausted, he flopped his head back onto the pillow and looked up at you.
"Y-you should k-keep your distance. You d-don't n-need to get sick, too," Laurie said through chattering teeth.
"Nonsense. Who else is going to take care of you, hmm?" You half-smiled, not quite enough to reach your eyes. You wet the cloth again and gently wiped his neck, chest, and arms. "Are you hungry?" you asked when you finished, but there was no response. He had already fallen asleep again. You surveyed the dark purple circles under his eyes and the pallor of his skin.
You rose from your perch by Laurie's side to start some soup for when he woke again. He came to about an hour later. You helped him sit up against the headboard so he could eat. He scowled when you attempted to spoon feed him. "Come on, now. You need to eat something to keep your strength, and I'm sure you don't want to spill hot soup in your lap," you chided. He rolled his eyes and acquiesced. You chuckled. At least he was feeling good enough to give you an attitude.
The food did him some good, because soon he wanted to get up and move around. You helped him to the front room to his armchair. While he read by the fire, you changed the damp sheets. It wasn't long before he was ready to lay down again. The two of you repeated this cycle throughout the day.
When night came once more, the fever ravaged again. You covered him with every blanket in the house and practically laid on top of him to warm him up. The shaking eventually relented, giving both of you a reprieve. You fell asleep sitting next to the bed, holding his hand while your head rested on your arm.
You woke to the feeling of a hand playing with your hair. You groggily raised your head and were greeted by Laurie's smile. "Good morning, my dove."
You smiled at the nickname and placed a kiss on his forehead. "Your fever broke," you said in relief. Tears welled up in the corners of your eyes. "I was so worried."
"I'm alright, thanks to you."
<><><><><>
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@bluizh
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HC of Emperor Paul hearing you say Feyd's name whole touching yourself...that ask got me intrigued
Oh Emperor Paul would be on a warpath. Killing people and destroying planets in his anger over it. He has bested Feyd, took his life, and became Emperor. He is a better fighter, a better Harkonnen than he could ever be. A better Duke and man. He would avoid you for a few days. Too upset and while he wants to hurt you, you'll be hurt worse if he came to you now.
But when he does come to you. Oh, you are not leaving the bedroom for days. You would begging for a break but Paul would not be having it. You are not leaving until you are with his child until you can't remember anyone's name but his. Every desire and kink you ever had he makes sure is a reality.
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kteezy997 · 6 hours
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Daddy’s Boy- Part Seven//t.c.
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Warning: some angst
It was an extremely filling breakfast at the local diner, and you had a great time with the two boys. A part of you felt giddy, like you were on a date that your son just happened to join. You felt like something was really blossoming between you and Timmy again.
Timmy had forbidden you to pay the breakfast bill, and Theo was playing the claw machine piled high with stuffed animals nearby. You had an idea that had been brewing during the meal.
“So I was just thinking: maybe tonight Theo and I could stay at your place? Or maybe just him, if you want to spend time with him one on one.” you hoped he would say “Oh no, I would love for you to come, too.”
Timmy's eyes widened, and he didn’t immediately agree.
Your heart dropped and you were instantly embarrassed.
“Oh, well I would love to have you both, but I have plans tonight, actually.” he slid his hand into his pocket, retrieving his wallet to pay.
You nodded, feeling almost sick to your stomach, “I see. What plans do you have?” you shook your head, knowing you had overstepped, and maybe assumed too much. “No, it’s none of my business.”
“No, it’s okay. It’s just…I’m meeting someone for dinner. A coworker. She, um, asked me to dinner. It’s not that big of a deal.” Timmy tried to brush the whole thing off in front of you.
“She? It’s a date? That’s nice, Timmy.” you weren’t being condescending, but you were masking your true feelings.
He looked at you, shook his head, his curls going wild just for a second, “Not really a date. It’s just dinner.”
“I bet she likes you. Everyone likes you.” And I have fumbled you.
“I hate that stupid game!” Theo grumbled as he came back over to the table.
You cleared your throat, looking at your son, “Hey, we don’t say those words, and you know that.”
“Sorry, Mom. It’s just that I never win anything.” the boy frowned, picking up his little cup of chocolate milk and taking a swig.
“It’s okay, bud, you have plenty of toys at home. And I’ll tell you something that’ll make you feel better.” Timmy said, leaning across the table.
Theo perked up, his eyes glued to his father, “What, what is it?”
“You are gonna come spend the night with me tomorrow night.” he grinned.
“Yeah!" Theo cheered, throwing his arms up in the air like he had won a prize from the claw machine after all, "Sleepover at Daddy’s! Can I bring my Hot Wheels?”
"You can bring whatever you want." Timmy said.
You gave him a look from across the table.
"Within reason." he added.
.............
You were a bit of an emotional wreck for the rest of the day. Timmy went home and you talked Theo into spending the night at your parents' house. You needed a break. You needed time to think.
You needed to talk to someone about your situation with Timmy. You had begun to think that you had let him slip through your fingers, and now you were worried that you would only be Theo's mom in Timmy’s eyes and not a potential partner.
You asked your best friend Lucie to come over and she came through with pizza and her listening, compassionate ears. You had told her everything. She had always liked Timmy; she thought that you were a great match together, and she adored Theo.
"I don't know, Luce, what if he goes out with this other woman and they start dating? My life would be ruined having to see him with someone else.” you put your hand to your head, “And it would be another thing that Theo would have to get used to. Things were going so good. I should have just told him that I wanted to be with him."
"Y/n, you have trauma, not necessarily from Timmy, but from the breakup and not having Theo's father around. Of course, you were skeptical about putting yourself back out there, and you were right to not rush something that you weren't sure about. Especially since you also have Theo’s well-being to consider.”
You sighed, knowing that she was right. "But if it was the right thing, why do I feel like this? It's too late to do anything now."
Lucie frowned, "Who says it's too late? You could leave right now, and stop him from going on that date."
You laughed, "Right now? That's crazy! He could be gone already.
"Let's go, let's go right now!" she said, "We can try to catch him." Lucie grabbed your hand, pulling you, and rushing out of your home. "You are going to tell that man that you love him, and you want to raise Theo together and make more babies." she said, matter-of-factly.
"This is insane!" you yelled, getting into your best friend's car and she sped off into the night. You could feel the adrenaline and exhilaration that the moment was bringing.
…….
You knocked the door of Timmy's apartment, not even certain if he was home. All you had was hope. After a moment, your stomach went sour as there was no answer. You decided to give up, as he was probably out on his date.
You swallowed your pride and realized that it was time to come to terms with your relationship, or lack thereof, with Timmy. This night could be detrimental to your life going forward. He could have a new girlfriend, and everything between you and him would wash away with the changing tide. You decided to walk away.
You were walking away from the door, when suddenly, you heard the turning of a the door knob.
"Y/n?"
You turned around quickly, seeing Timmy standing in the doorway that you had just left. "Timmy." you said, going back over to him, feeling a little dazed because you couldn't believe he was actually there. It wasn't too late!
"Are you okay? Is Theo okay, wh-where is he?" the concern in his eyes made you feel terrible guilt. You had caused him to needlessly worry.
"Oh we're fine! Everything is fine! He's with my parents for the night." you assured him. "I just had to come and see you."
"Y/n, what's going on?" his face softened as he looked at you.
"Timothee, I don't, I don't want you to go on this date tonight, I'm sorry I didn't say anything sooner. And maybe I have no right to say that to you, but-"
"I won't go if you don't want me to." he shook his head, gazing down at you, so tenderly.
You couldn't help but smile a little at what he had said, and for the first time, you felt like your feelings and assumptions were validated. "I love you, Timmy. I've always loved you. I love the man you are and the father you are becoming to our son. I think we... should be together." you felt your throat tighten up with the nerves you were feeling.
He grinned, saying, "I hate that we were ever apart." He took your hand, pulling you close to him.
In an instant, you felt warm and tingly in the best way. You were mush when you were this close to him. You felt at home.
"Come here." He put his forehead to yours, wrapping his arms around you and shutting the door behind you. "I love you too." he kissed your lips softly, then parting to add, "And I love our boy more than anything."
You threw your arms around him as well, and you pressed your lips to his. Your heart and your body were on fire. After a moment, you were making out shamelessly.
Timmy picked you up and took you over to the couch.
@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @lixzey @bitchyunknownuser @ducktapebar @aoi-targaryen @yukideadinside @mel-vaz @thatoneweirdgirl17 @iwishchalamet @jindongdongie @elloise0 @rennyd26 @briefkittenearthquake @that-one-fangirl69 @sammy-halpert
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Long Distance
I haven't had any energy to write recently, but I found this in my drafts from a while ago, so I thought I'd post it! I feel like it rants on a bit too much, so I hope it's alright. <3
Summary: Long distance is difficult, but you and Timmy power through
Pairing: Timothée x fem.reader
Fluff!
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Masterlist
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The familiar beep sounded through the silent room. It read 2:56 am on the screen of your phone, as you unplugged it from its charger and opened facetime, forcing your eyes open. Nothing yet. While waiting for the nightly phone call, you propped yourself up onto your elbows, and your eyes wandere to the right of you, where your thin, white curtains swayed and flapped slightly from the mild breeze that entered through the open balcony door; the night air cooled your hot skin, pleasant and blissful. Due to the transparency of the fabric, you could quite clearly make out the full moon, that cast its heavenly glow across your bed and your uncovered figure, blankets laying discarded somewhere on the floor, curtesy of the dense summer air. Despite the time, the roads below were alive with distant sounds of chatter, cars rushing by, teenagers emerging from another nightclub. You found London to be like New York: it was a city that, indeed, never slept.
You were snapped out of your thoughts as your phone vibrated in your hand, presenting you with a glorious sight. Not wanting to wait a moment longer, you quickly pressed 'accept', and a face flooded the screen. It was the face of your favourite person, the one you so longed to touch, and kiss and see, yet couldn't for another dreadful 2 months.
"Y/NNN!!!" His bright eyes shined at you.
"TIMMY!!"
He had the goofiest smile spread across his face, and at this point, so did you. The day had dragged on, boring and exhausting, but the thought of seeing this face kept you giddily ploughing through.
It was no secret that long-distance sucked, and unfortunately, you and Timothée were no exception to this burden of being actors. Timmy was in Budapest, working on Dune part 2, and at the same time, you were in London, filming your next project. You absolutely loved your job, it was one you dreamed of from the age of 11, however not being able to come home together with Timothée, or to hold him in your arms was heartbreaking for the both of you.
Your cheeks flushed red as you lay your eyes upon the gorgeous brown locks framing his face, the pools of green that were admiring you through the screen, and that toothy smile, that told you he was just as happy to see you.
"You look so beautiful mon amour"
"As do you," you smiled, feeling happier than you were all day. Sometimes, you didn't even need to talk during your calls; sometimes, it was enough to just look at each other and to know that the other was just a phone call away. Most of the time, however, you spent these blessed minutes making utter fools of yourself. But that was what you loved about your relationship: it was one where you trusted each other fully and loved every inch and aspect of each other. You two were practically best friends - and well you were. You understood each other like no one else could, never afraid that you would look silly or embarrassing in front of the other. There was no such thing. You could be as ridiculous as your heart desired, and Timmy would still look at you with pure adoration in his eyes and the same for you. You were eachothers safe spaces, of love and vulnerability. Although you never felt vulnerable around him; for you knew that he would do anything his power to protect you.
You spent a good while asking each other questions back and forth, suppressing the yawns that took over your bodies. Despite the longing, it felt good to talk to your boy, and to exchange your feelings of anwavering love for eachother, even though it was often accompanied by a silly gesture or a remark that only you would send you both into fits of giggles. At one point, Timmy pretended to pick his nose, pouting as he did. You instantaniously screenshotted this, smiling to yourself, knowing you'd soon assign it as your new wallpaper.
As your conversation went on, your eyes grew heavier by the minute, and so did Timothée's. You fell silent, simply gazing into his eyes, him staring right back. You could see the endless shades of green, dancing in his eyes, those eyes that said I love you.
You knew it long before, but now, in this moment of peace and yearning, you relished in the fact that you knew you wanted to spend every last one of your minutes with him. Your boy. Your Timmy.
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Oh? Is that so? (Pt. 1)
Warning(s): Timothee looking so cute that you might faint. Very short, Im tired
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Laurie and you have been friends since we were kids, and yet there was always a strange tension between you two.
“Laurie, can put this necklace on me?”
“Why?”
“A date.”
“Wait. WHAT?!”
“A date, a man shall try to court me and I shall have to either refuse or oblig-“
“I know what a date is. But you never told me that you were going on one!”
“Do you have to know?”
“I do”
“and why is that?”
“Um- I-uh”
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hemmingsleclerc · 4 months
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''Is it obvious?'' Timothée Chalamet
timothée chalamet x fem!reader
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ynln
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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 🙌
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tchalamet
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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
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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!
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caption:💗💗
seen by 29,593,593
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tchalamet has posted a story
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caption: rainy days with the best company🙌❤️
seen by: 27,583,017
yndaily
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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
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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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violetrainbow412-blog · 5 months
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A fair payment [W. W.]
Willy Wonka x fem!reader
word count: 1.5k
People who might be interested: @strugglingwriterwattpad @cattail5 [Timothée masterlist]
some minor Wonka spoilers I guess! If you like it, tell me in the comments, that will make me happy :)
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“Can you mend it?” Willy asked, carefully holding his emerald green jacket that had the sleeve seam torn.
The boy had arrived a couple of weeks ago to turn the world of everyone present in the laundry upside down and, honestly, you were already beginning to enjoy his presence. You looked in the background at the blackboard that Noodle used at night to give him lessons in the hope that he would learn to read because, according to the girl's words, because of that he was almost eaten by a tiger. But in the man's words, what was important was the almost part. 
However, tonight he had asked you especially to go to his room, because he had a problem that he thought only you could solve.
“I think so, I just have to pass the needle a couple of times” you smiled.
Since your arrival Mrs. Scrubbit had used your sewing skills for her own benefit, because after all you had ended up in that mess trying to save a little to be able to buy the necessary materials to make a pretty dress that would be worth enough to advance in the business. Although, obviously, that had not been possible.
"Thank you! I'm afraid that's my only jacket."
“It will be ready in no time. I’ll just go to my room and come back, okay?” you said kindly, placing the garment in the boy's lap and earning a sweet smile from the aforementioned.
Just as Willy had his little briefcase for his chocolates, you had your own, full of threads, needles, and buttons, which you just had to grab from the floor to get everything you needed. When you arrived back you settled at the little table and he remained attentive to your every movement, pulling out a chair so he could observe what you were about to do.
“There was a boy on the ship who helped me with these things,” he began to tell you, keeping his curious nose on your shoulder “But I never thought about learning. You know, for when I had to be alone”
“Well, it's lucky you ended up here. We are a curious collection of workers,” you murmured ironically, referring to all the people gathered there against their will by the work of fate "What did you do on the ship?"
"Cook. Mostly sweet things, but I also know a couple of useful non-chocolate-related recipes. I was the chef,” he said, and you laughed at the exaggerated way he pronounced the last bit.
Willy began to tell you about some of the adventures he had had on the high seas and you listened attentively as the tip of the needle went in and out to join the fabric. It only took a few minutes to get his clothes looking like new, taking the liberty of repairing other places that also needed it.
“Put it on,” you asked, trying not to look at him too much when he did so or pay attention to the way the jacket fit him perfectly.
"It is perfect! You can't even tell it was torn, huh?” he said with emotion, feeling with his hands as much as he could. “How much do I owe you?”
“Oh, it's nothing.”
“I insist,” the man murmured. His curly hair bounced across his cheeks as he sat next to you and he lifted his small briefcase off the floor, opening it to reveal all the little bottles of ingredients. “Your talent for mine. It's a fair exchange."
You had to admit that the chocolates you had eaten were a complete delicacy, but a part of you didn't want to get used to that luxury or you knew that when Willy was gone you would miss his sweetness. In the literal and figurative sense.
Locked in that laundry it was impossible to meet many people your age and Noodle was your greatest company, as if he were a little sister to you. But now that he was there, there was a certain happiness in chatting with him, much more now that his ingenious mind had devised a way to get you out of there even if it was just for a few hours to see the light of day and get coins from the sale of the chocolates to free you of the enormous debt to Mrs. Scrubbit.
“What flavor do you want to try today? Do you want me to add some unicorn skin glitter? Rays of sunlight from a twilight on the seashore? Tears of an African crocodile?”
“Just give me something you think I need,” you replied softly.
Willy thought about it for a moment, because it wasn't the kind of answer he would have expected. What was he supposed to give you that night? A little hope? Happiness? Nostalgia? It was difficult to decide.
Through his bright eyes you watched him reflect and just a second later his hands began to work. You noticed there was a hint of mischief in his smile as he poured milk, chocolate, and the contents of a couple of jars into the processor, glancing at you from the corner of his eye from time to time.
“What are you going to do when we get out of here?” he asked suddenly, not neglecting the tasks.
“Working in a sewing workshop, I guess.”
“Why don't you open your own fashion house?” Willy suggested carefreely, as if it were a very easy thing to do, “You are a great dressmaker.”
“And you are a great dreamer”
“It's my best quality,” he exclaimed, almost offended. You waited a moment before answering.
“I just don't think it's that simple. It requires effort, time, and a lot of money…”
“We will have everything,” he interrupted you, with that optimism that characterized him. Suddenly he stopped what he was doing and one of his hands traveled to take yours. “When I open my factory, we will all be able to fulfill our dreams. And you are going to have a fashion house, I promise you.”
“You make a lot of promises,” you responded, blushing.
“And he planned to fulfill them all. I always do it"
Maybe there was something about the softness of his grip on your hand or perhaps the sparkle in his eyes that made you look away out of sheer nervousness. He seemed to be good and innocent, to the point that he probably didn't even realize how close he was to you or how inappropriate the position would be if Noodle ever walked in.
A tap interrupted your moment and then he abruptly pulled away, excited to show you the product he had just made. It was a pretty circular candy that was bright pink and seemed to be emanating smoke from the inside.
"What's that?"
“You'll have to try it to find out,” he murmured, as he extended the treat in your direction.
You had to admit that you were somewhat curious to discover what the man was offering you, so you took it between your fingers carefully, and even under his watchful gaze you took a bite.
At first it tasted like ordinary chocolate, but then it took on a strange tone, which made you feel a certain warmth in your chest that spread to your cheeks. It was a most pleasant feeling, like bubbly joy combined with the embarrassment of a hug.
You thought for a moment about what flavor that could be, without any success, until after a few seconds you realized that it wasn’t a flavor in itself, but a feeling, an experience... Was it love that Willy had given you?
“How does it taste?”
“Yummy,” you responded, covering your mouth so he wouldn’t see the wet chocolate on your tongue, but also to hide your smile “Delicious, actually. What does it contain?”
“A special and secret ingredient”
"Oh, come on! Aren’t you going to tell me?”
“I just want to know if I got it right,” he murmured and you frowned slightly, not understanding him “About what you asked for. Did I give you something you needed?”
You had to bite your lip to keep from smiling again, your cheeks feeling hot from the simple fact that he was looking at you. You thought that this could even be a love potion that you had consumed without thinking about it, just because he was the one who was offering it to you.
“We could say yes”
“We're even, then,” he exclaimed as he waved the sleeve of his jacket and you nodded in amusement, eating the rest of the chocolate he had made for you.
A yawn leaving your lips made you aware of how exhausted you were and although you didn't love the idea, you knew it was time to leave.
“It's late, I should go to sleep before we wake anyone up.”
“Yes, yes, of course,” Willy said quickly, getting up from his seat to accompany you to the exit. “I'll see you tomorrow.”
“Rest,” you said kindly, and, gathering courage, you leaned forward a little to say goodbye with a hug that he gladly returned.
As you walked down the hall to your shabby, damp room, you thought that it probably wouldn't have even taken a love potion to fall for the charms of the pleasant chocolatier. You just needed one of his smiles.
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lixzey · 6 months
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forever yours.
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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. 
@helens3amstuff @gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @lovemelikecrazyiloveyoucrazy @tchalamss @tchalamss @ashlynnmalfoy @crazycat-ladys-blog @michakune @mxltifxnd0m @spencerr3idd @dangelnleif @sthkate @ferrjulie @imnotoverlyobsessive @mel-vaz @elsagreeer @lovely-maryj @meowmeowmau @bobthe-turmpetman29 @saintcosette
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xxbimbobunnyxx · 28 days
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Her Emperor, His Destiny
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(Alpha!Paul Atreides x Omega!BeneGesserit!Reader)
Summary: Ever since Paul presented no omega has smelled remotely appealing to him. His only reprieve is his dreams that have been filled with nothing but an angelic voice calling out to him, the silhouette of a woman he can’t quite make out, and the sweetest saccharine smell. Wk: 3.2k
Warnings: General omegaverse behaviors, knotting, scenting, marking, breeding, Paul and reader are a soul bound pair, inappropriate use of the voice(by both Paul & Reader) , fluff, kinda love making? Idk this is much softer than my usual smut. I think that’s it, lmk if I missed any!! 18+MNDI!!
A/N: Listen… I know this is left field for me but I made a promise to myself that I would start writing for ME again, and that means writing whatever I want. I saw Dune 2 and I couldn’t get this idea out of my head. Paul is so alpha coded I feel like it was dropped in my lap.
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Paul expected the air to be different, smell different, out in the desert planes of Arkkis. Thus far it’s as he expected. The smell of spice and sand permeate the air to the point that it’s over powering, flooding every single one of your senses. The sand lingers on any inch of exposed skin practically borrowing its way underneath. The smell of spice is so strong that it feels like it’s drowning you, invading your lungs and nostrils, coating them, leaving your insides feeling like sandpaper if you dare breathe it in.
But as he follows Stilgar into the sietch he can’t even be bothered with the glares and sideways glances from the Freman because the further they walk the more his senses are hit with an overwhelmingly saccharine smell. It was like someone was baking the finest pastry mixed with a warm milk bath on a cold winter's day. He had only ever smelled something as sweet as this in his dreams. A scent he’s dreamed of so vividly that it lingered in his nostrils when he woke, but he’s never caught a whiff of it in waking hours until now. There was no doubt in his mind that this is the same scent. The scent that’s haunted him every night since he presented. The scent of his omega, his destined mate.
“I can hear and smell you scenting back there, Paul Atreides… I suggest you get your pheromones under control before we enter.” Stilgar looks back at him with an apprehensive look and Paul apologizes nodding in agreement. “Mating is a very sacred thing to my people. Each pair must be approved and blessed by the high priestess. And all unmated omegas rooms are on the opposite side of the alphas. It is very important that you follow all rules, but especially this one. Do you understand?”
“Yeah, I understand.” He understood the rule but does that mean he was going to follow it? He could certainly try. But that scent was intoxicating and the closer they got to the sietch the stronger it got. He knows given the chance, he’d break that rule in an instant. Consequences be damned.
“Many wait for their soul bound mate and majority of them die alone, never finding the one.” Paul found this odd. Soul bounds are few and far between nowadays and he comes from a place where mating is a transaction, a bargain, something of power and not of love. But as that sugary sweet scent swirls around him, almost making him dizzy, he thinks he might understand wanting to wait for your one. It’s been a few years now since he presented and no omega has ever smelled even remotely appealing to him. They either smelled of nothing or downright revolting, his only reprieve was in his dreams. His dreams filled with that sugary smell and the figure of a woman whose face he could never quite make out.
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When Stilgar pulled his mother aside Paul found himself alone in a room filled with stares. Some looked at him in awe, certain he was their long awaited Maud’Dib. Others looked at him with disdain, snickering to each other as they shamelessly pointed his way. But he honestly wasn’t concerned with any of it, because as he sat against the stony wall the scent was stronger than ever. He could almost taste it. His eyes searched the room, craving nothing more than to put a face to the smell that has nearly become his drug. But as he looked across the various faces surrounding him, no one stuck out to him.
But he was certain she was in this room, if not this one than the next. That warm saccharine scent was so close it was as if it were right next to him. That’s when he feels a tap on his shoulder, causing him to jump. Either this person was stealthy or he was so lost in thought he didn’t hear them approaching but when his head whips around to see who it is he feels like his heart is going to burst. He hears the sound of bells ringing, a sound that he’s only heard in the churches back home. There standing over him is the most ethereal woman he’s ever seen, beautiful, perfect, sweet smelling, you.
“Hello, Paul Atreides, I’ve been waiting for you.” You smile down at him sweetly, your eyes filled with adoration. You aren’t dressed like the Fremen, no tans or browns or stillsuit to be found. A black silky dress adorns your form, fitting you perfectly. There’s a sheer midnight colored scarf wrapped around your head and shoulders, framing your face like the greatest work of art. You weren’t Fremen. You were a Bene Gesserit. Or at the very least, one in training.
“I think… I’ve been waiting for you too.” Paul’s voice is trance-like, looking up at you like you hung all the stars in the sky. The sound of the voice you’ve heard so many times in your slumber sending chills down your spine.
“Won’t you come with me? I have so much to tell you.” You look at him eagerly, offering him your danity ringed hand.
“I don’t know if I’m… supposed to…” He wants nothing more than to follow you. He would follow you into one of the suns of Arakkis if you asked him to. But he knew he was already on thin ice here and he feared what would happen to him and his mother if he were to upset anyone further.
“Do not bother with them, they will see the way. They will see what I’ve seen. Soon they will be cheering your name. Come.”
Paul scans the room, all eyes are on the two of you but when he looks back at your reassuring smile it’s like no one else matters, no one else exists. He takes your hand, letting you pull him along through hallways and far away from prying eyes. You drag him into a room that he assumes is yours, shutting the door behind you.
“Have you dreamt of me, Paul?” You sit on the bed and pull the scarf from your head, leaning back on your palms. You look so beautiful and the room is engulfed in your scent. It clings to every inch of the space and radiates off of you in waves.
“Yes… have you dreamt of me?” He takes an apprehensive step toward you, leaving a few feet of distance between the two of you. His green eyes feel as if they’re eating you alive and the scent of him causes slick to rush into your panties.
“Yes, every night since I presented as an omega my dreams have been filled with nothing but you. And more recently I’ve had visions of you in my waking hours. Will you tell me, Paul, about your dreams?” Your voice is as sweet as your scent. The way you’re leaning back on your hands makes the silk of your dress taunt against your breasts, your peaked nipples on display. The sight of you and the unmistakable smell of your slick makes his cock stir in his pants.
“They aren’t very vivid… mostly just flashes of you from behind, the sound of your voice, you were always saying ‘come to me Paul, for I am your destiny’ but your scent? That was so clear to me.” He takes another step forward, reaching a hand out as if he’s going to touch you but he lets it fall to his side, like he thought better of it. “I didn’t know it was possible to have a sense of smell in your dreams, but night after night I was surrounded by your scent as I slept.”
“I could smell you as well and I smelled you the minute you arrived. But my dreams are much more detailed than yours. There is much you do not know.” You approach him, closing the small distance between you. You rest your hands on his chest, looking up at him with hooded eyes. “Would you like me to tell you about them?”
“I’d love nothing more, omega.” His thumb gently caresses the apple of your cheek before traveling down to push some of your hair off your shoulder. He’s looking down at you expectantly, eagerly waiting for you to speak.
“Your dreams are correct, I am your destiny, and you are mine. I can feel the doubt in your heart, feel that you do not believe in yourself, do not believe that you are the Maud’Dib but you are, sweet Paul. For I have seen it.”
“Tell me? What have you seen?” He searches your eyes for signs of doubt or deceit but all he sees is truth there. Truth and the same adoring look you gave him when he first saw you.
“I’ve seen you learning the ways of the Fremen. I’ve seen you move them, rally them. I’ve seen a battle in which you win. I’ve seen you upon the emperor's throne, ruling over all, with me by your side, our child in my arms.” Your hands travel from his chest to take his face in your soft palms where you rub soothing circles on his temples.
“You saw… all of that?” Paul’s voice sounded exasperated, like what you’ve told him took all the breath from his lungs. He feels like it has. The finality and bluntness in which you speak tell him that your words are true.
“Yes, and more. There will be plenty of time to tell you about it all. But right now? I need you.” Right as the words leave your mouth a gush of slick drips down your legs. The presence of your mate triggering your heat weeks early.
“Tell me what you need, omega.” His voice drops an octave, taking on that deep alpha tone. It makes your heart speed up as another gush of slick drips from your core. You can’t help but think what it would be like if he used The Voice on you. Regularless of how absolutely blasphemous that would be considered.
“I need you, alpha. I need your cock. I need you to fill me up and lock your seed inside me with your knot.” Paul lets out a growl before reaching out, one hand gripping onto your hip to pull you flush against him and the other going to the back of your neck so he could connect his lips with your own.
The kiss starts off rough, eager, and hungry. But after a few moments his lips become tender against your own, his fingers threading through your hair as his tongue swipes across your bottom lip. You grant him access, immediately intertwining his tongue with your own, moaning at the taste of him.
“I’ll give you whatever you want, my moon. Ask for it and it is yours.” He kisses down your jaw to your throat where he runs the tip of his nose along your scent gland, inhaling deeply. “You wish for me to make love to you? Then I shall.”
Paul pushes the thin straps of your satin dress down your shoulders, kissing along the column of your throat, your collar bones, across your shoulders. You drop your arms so the straps fall the rest of the way down, the dress slipping down your body with them. Leaving you bare before him aside from the thin black material of your panties.
“Absolutely beautiful, angelic.” He runs the back of his hand down your cheek, your jaw, your neck, all the way down until his back knuckles are caressing the tender peaks of your nipples. He slides it across your chest, giving the other the same treatment before taking both of your tits in his hands. He gently squeezes them, pinching your hardened nipples between his fingers, eliciting little whimpers from you.
“I heard your mother has been teaching you our ways. How is your training?” Paul raises an eyebrow at you, certainly wondering why you’re asking him about that at a time like this. “I only ask because I was wondering if you might want to practice on me.”
“Do you mean…?” He looks at you with wide eyes and you smirk, biting your lip.
“That’s exactly what I mean. I can feel your apprehension, don’t be afraid, I want this.” You lean into him, smashing his hands that are still on your chest between your bodies as you lean up to you run your nose along his scent gland, darting your tongue out to taste the sweat and spice that coat his skin. He grabs onto your shoulders, pushing you back so he can look in your eyes, searching for any signs of doubt. But as every other time he’s looked in your eyes tonight, he’s seen nothing but honesty there. Nothing but truth.
“Get on the bed on your back. Spread your legs.” Your body immediately reacts, doing exactly as he asks. Paul approaches the foot of the bed, standing between your spread legs. “That’s a good girl.”
His hands grip onto your knees, pushing your legs further apart, leaning down to shove his face between your legs. His nose runs along the soaked material of your panties, deeply inhaling the sugary sweet smell of your slick.
“Alpha, please.”
“You do not have to beg, my moon. I’m going to give you exactly what you want.” Paul smirks up at you before lacing his fingers into the band of your panties and ripping them in half. He runs his tongue up your slit, circling it around your sensitive clit. The feeling of his hot wet mouth has you coming undone instantly, your slick gushing all over his chin and down his neck where it drips onto his shirt. He moans at the taste, sweeter than anything that’s ever graced his taste buds. “Yes, that’s my good little omega, give it all to me, let me drink in your sweet nectar.”
He dives back in, shoving his tongue as deep into your pussy as it can go, fucking you with it. His lips come up to wrap around your clit while his fingers circle your dripping entrance. He runs his fingers through your folds before shoving them knuckle deep inside of you.
“Oh fuck! I’m going to cum again, I’m gonna cum.” You move your hips against his face as he curls his fingers against your sweet spot, your legs clamp around his head and your entire body shakes as your high washes over you. Paul pushes himself up from the bed, ridding himself of his clothes before climbing back over to you, situating himself on top of you with his hands on either side of your head. His hard cock is resting against your lower stomach, the tip leaking precum onto your skin.
“I want to taste you too.” You run your fingers through his hair, pushing it out of his face. You didn’t even care that the ache between your legs wouldn’t be satiated until he was inside you, you needed to taste him.
“Next time. I need to be inside you now.” It comes out a soft whisper, his forehead resting against your own. He reaches between your bodies, taking his cock in his hand and lining it up with your entrance. He connects his lips with your own, kissing you passionately as he begins to push inside you. You both moan as he bottoms out, his hips flush against your own. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, slipping your tongue into his mouth as his thrusts begin to pick up.
“Mmm you feel amazing, my love, my lord, my emperor.” Paul looks into your eyes as he continues to fuck you at a linguid pace, rolling his hips against your own as he pushes himself as deep inside you as possible.
“My moon, my destiny.” He picks up the pace, pushing up on his knees and wrapping your legs around his hips. Your tits jiggle with every thrust, the fucked out love sick gaze that you send his way makes his skin even hotter.
“I want you to fill me up, alpha. Fill me with your cum. Put a pup in me. So we can fulfill our prophecy.” Paul snakes a hand between the two of you, connecting his thumb with your clit so he can rub circles on it in time with his thrusts.
“Open your mouth.” The sound of him using The Voice makes your walls clench around him, your jaw dropping open at his command. He leans down, letting the spit that had collected in his mouth drip down into your tongue. “Swallow it.”
You swallow with an audible gulp. Your heart warming at the gesture that anywhere else would be considered lewd but here on Arakkis to share one’s sacred spit with another was a grand gesture of love.
“Thank you, my love. You taste better than the finest feast. I cannot wait to know what your cum tastes like.” Paul groans at that, his eyes rolling in the back of his head. His thrusts start to grow sloppy but he refuses to finish before you do.
“Cum for me.” As soon as the words leave his mouth your walls are convulsing around him, sucking him as your slick soaks his cock.
“Mark me, Paul. Sink your teeth into my flesh and bind us together as we are meant to be.” You tug on his arms, pulling his upper half so it’s draped over you, his face buried in your neck. His thrusts become slow and deep again, his cock hitting that perfect spot inside you.
“But Stilgar said…” He groans, using every ounce of strength in his body to not just sink his teeth into your soft neck.
“I do not care what Stilgar said. This is bigger than him. Bigger than all of them. Mark me.” His mouth moves before his mind can process what’s happening, his teeth sinking deep into your flesh, breaking the skin. The feeling is like nothing you’ve ever felt. Electricity washes through your body, the most world altering orgasm of your life wracks through you, and you feel like your soul leaves you, connecting with Paul’s before returning to your earthly vessel. He pushes his hips flush against yours, ropes of his cum spilling inside you.
“Oh fucking shit.” Paul groans, pulling his mouth from your neck, gliding his tongue over the indents of his teeth. He leans back to look at you, eyes roaming your face. His knot swells inside of you and a look of pain crosses your features before turning into one of ecstasy. Loud moans leave your lips as your final orgasm of the night washes over you. Paul leans down, connecting his lips with yours, kissing you like it’s the last thing he will ever do. Though it was far from it.
“I hope you are not upset with me, Maud’Dib.” You take his face in your hands, running the top of your nose along his cheek.
“I don’t think I could ever be upset with you, my love. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t turn me on when you used The Voice on me…” he chuckles, resting his forehead against your own. “I am so happy I finally found you…”
“You have me now, until the day I take my last breath I will belong to you, Paul Atreides. Together, we will accomplish great things.”
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ghostgirl101 · 1 month
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I just wanna say that I am SO excited for the part 2 to your Paul Destiny fic. I have so many questions and Im excited to see if they get answered. Like if Paul is pledging his love to the reader then is the romance plot with Chani still relevant? Is the reader still the princess here? Very interesting
Imagine if Paul Atreides claimed you as his destiny: PART Ⅱ of Ⅱ
|| Word Count: 1.7K || Fluff ||
A/N: Honestly, I didn't think this would blow up so much- 1k+ likes??! Thank you all, it's sick 🙃 in answer to your questions, I didn't really specify if the reader (you) are part of a Great House or the Emperor's daughter, or maybe someone else, that's kind of up to your imagination. And yeah, sorry Chani fans, I kind of kicked her to the curb lmao; This is all about you, and so enjoy the second and final part of this destiny trope before I work on some relationship headcanons for Paul and Feyd-Rautha... Requests are open for Dune 2, so don't be shy 📩
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You can't escape fate.
It's as real as the Spice that threads through the grains of sand blanketing Arrakis in heavy, warm golden waves. It twists and turns in the air, in the tides of change, something beyond understanding roping together reality and its lives to bond, whether in love or hate.
At least, with the newly ascended young Emperor, you know which side you're on. Since the day of his declaration and claiming of you as his Empress, you've never once left his sight, unknowingly or not. The boy is almost ridiculously close and observant, as if testing the depths of the events unfolding around him, testing to see whether you'll try to run from them, from him. But you can't run from fate, either.
"You aren't resting."
Paul's soft, low voice slices through the silence of the dusk, the only words you hear before you feel his warm, firm arms slipping under your arms and around your middle, pulling you into his front in a smooth, protective motion. His chocolate brown locks tickle your neck and cheek as he gazes up at you from your shoulder; wandering, curious eyes study yours knowingly, his natural hues tainted blue with the Spice.
"What troubles you?"
You hesitate in your response, unsure of the right thing to say. There's no point in lying, not to him, to a boy who could easily use the power of his Voice to make you tell him everything and anything with just a few words. He's done it to the Bene Gesserit, to those who speak out of turn and challenge him cluelessly, but never to you. And something tells you that he never will.
"I'm sorry," is how you answer instead, in a small whisper, trying to read his expression before his reaction.
But all Paul does is give you one of his soft, amused smirks, a brow raising slightly, unconvinced.
"Don't apologise to anyone for anything," he murmurs, his fingers drifting to lock with yours, his hand hot and strong in yours. "We are to be wed, you and I, soon. So what troubles you?"
"It's not you," you tell him as earnestly as you can, his eyes capturing yours and holding them as you blink up at him. "I'm just... nervous."
"Nervous?" Paul repeats gently, his hands squeezing yours for a moment, his face an inch away from yours. "What have you to be nervous about?" He grins slightly, not attempting to hide his teasing amusement. "A wedding?"
You can't help but smile at his tone, savouring the unguarded moments of the new, young Emperor, his boyish traits lingering beneath the newfound power and promises passed down to him.
You were nervous, because you weren't so familiar with destiny and its quirks, and yet, Paul Atreides seemed to be its master. Nervous, because although there was a strange pull between you and him, a deeper part of you somehow knowing him, at an instinctive ease with him, you had never met him before these past few days, and now, you were going to be joined together for time indefinite by marriage. Nervous, because he didn't just want you to rule with him, but alongside him, as a partner, a second part of him. His second half who's with him in soul, not just spirit, physically, not just mentally. And he's relishing in it.
"I've never had one before," you shake your head with a light smile, "I don't know what to expect. Or what's expected of me."
Paul hums to himself at your reply, pausing for a while as he thinks over his words.
"It isn't just a wedding," he tells you quietly, "it's so much more. This... this a beginning. A new dawn."
"Beginning?" You echo in bemusement, looking up at him in wonder. "Of what?"
"Of a new era," Paul says thoughtfully, his hands moving from yours to run over and down your sides, tracing over your figure absentmindedly, a gesture that makes you hold your breath for a beat as you watch him, "the first of many. You are more than a mere future. You're the future. My future. And the future of my people."
The sincerity and conviction in his voice makes you stare back at him in slight awe, taken by his certainty of what he's seen in the deepest stretches of his mind, the flickering images of you, adorned in all your natural beauty and grace that he could find nothing short of perfect. You were a fantasy and a hope materialised. Someone he'd wished and dreamed for so much, that you came true, just as you should have.
"Anything that happens to you," Paul continues, looking you straight in the eye as he speaks, "happens to me. You have always been mine, and I was yours before then. Absolutely and completely."
And his words make a home in your head, everything he says so poetic and beautifully surreal, but so honest and unwaveringly confident. He didn't need to practise what he said before he whispered the sweet words in your ear, in a voice only you could catch, in the long, warm nights on Arrakis. There was no need for practice. He had been made for this, and he wouldn't have it any other way.
You let yourself relax slightly in his grips, giving him an earnest smile. "That sounds nice."
Paul smiles back at you, a bright, sweet smile that makes him seem so soft and normal, almost forgetting for a moment of his utter strength and glory over the planets, his dangerous darkness that he occasionally allowed to rule over his actions at the tensest of times, until those who stood up against him retreated in bewilderment and fascination and fear.
"It does," he agrees, his gaze dropping to look out at the dunes beyond you, "you can't imagine..."
You couldn't. But every part of you wanted to. And those parts won.
"Won't you tell me?"
Paul's attention shifts back to you after you speak, before you can stop yourself.
"Would it be kind to tell you?" He asks aloud, speaking half to himself as his eyes go to search yours again, studying every inch of you, almost unsettlingly intently.
"Do you dream?" Paul questions you softly, and you dither before shaking your head.
"Not like you do," you answer steadily.
"Like I do. Seeing your face amidst the streaks of sunbeams and every kind of ethereal power that could create wonders, planets, worlds. Waking up, and you're not here, though it felt so real," he goes on, his voice laced with longing, as if it pained him to remember the feeling. "Realer than I've ever felt anything before. Every sense in me was awakened, because with destiny, I saw hope. And I did not know that hope could be so.... beautifully... angelic."
Paul draws closer and closer with each word, pulled by invisible strings to rest his forehead against yours, closing his eyes for a long moment to breathe, breathe you in. The sight of it is almost dizzyingly hypnotic, staring at the little scattered freckles over his fair, lightly tanned skin, cheeks flushed golden. He moves his face to rub his cheek against yours, seeking out affection in an irresistible rare, vulnerable move. Your hand reaches up to brush your fingers against it, and he takes it in his immediately, pressing his lips against your fingertips as he speaks.
"I need you," Paul insists, his voice firm and pressing again as he stares at you with a spark of desperation. "I need only you. More than you can comprehend. By my side, always, where you belong."
"I'm right here," you reply a little giddily, looking away from his eyes slightly bashfully from the intensity and unbridled longing of his gaze. "I suppose I'm just not used to this."
"To what?" Paul questions, his fingers tilting your chin up softly to force your eyes back up to his, his face a little closer than before. "To being an Empress?"
Before you can respond, he's pushed himself closer over you, his warm, damp lips sliding and pressing against yours and parting to encourage you to deepen his affections. It sends hot shockwaves rushing straight through your blood, as Paul crouches over you, all patience and purpose forgotten in the moment where it's just the two of you in the calm, lingering desert night.
You fit together perfectly, too perfectly for his words to be untrue, and his head tilts keenly where your fingers skim his neck, his lips parting from yours as they tangle in his hair with a short gasp. He loses none of his confidence and persistence, his azure blue eyes a shade darker as he watches you with an open trace of adoration.
"A queen?"
"Paul," you start shakily, as he smirks at you fondly, his head ducking to trace his tongue briefly up the skin of your neck, with a faint chuckle.
"To being desired?"
You glare at him weakly, hanging onto his hands tight to find some sense of grounding. "You're just playing with me."
"I intend to do so much more than that," Paul grins at you, kissing your cheek before burying his face against your shoulder. "And so should you. Test the depths of our connection. Push it to its limits. Push me. Please."
You find yourself speechless again at his way with words, simple and truthful, but full of passion and unthought romance, a sensation he's been craving since the first shadows of your being in his hazy dreams and visions.
"Give into your destiny, sweet girl," he croons to you in a whisper, his lips brushing against yours and pressing down against your skin needily, hungrily. It takes almost inhumane strength not to crumble and shiver under his touch and desire radiating off him and his dark glare, the wanting over years of dreams and prophecies building up to its peak. "Give into me."
"I think I will," you whisper back in awe and giddiness, your arms having to hold tightly around his neck to stay upright. "I think I want to."
"That's good," he praises you with a soft smile, as his voice lowers. "And besides," Paul mutters in your ear, nuzzling against your cheek breathlessly, with that subtle, teasing look in his eyes, "I plan on taking you as mine well before the wedding."
══════════════⊹⊱≼ fin ≽⊰⊹══════════════
Taglist (lmk if you want to be added to this for my future Dune fanfics): @minaxcarter @milaeth @ennycutie @weird0o0 @aoi-targaryen @jindongdongie
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itsbuckytm · 2 months
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Little Accidents / Paul Atreides
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Summary: Paul's obliviousness was soon shattered when frequent visits to the nursing room revealed the true essence of love at first sight.
Ps: This is a short fluff I had in mind, but I hope you enjoy and also english isn't my first language so bare with minimal errors, (once upload i always make sure to update now my works, if there is any errors) Enjoy! XOXO
As the heir of the Atreides' House, Paul effortlessly following in his father's esteemed footsteps. He possesses an acute sense of ownership, ensuring he's well aware of everything under his purview. Whether it's news of your battle injuries or workplace mishaps, Paul is always the first to know, abandoning any prior engagements to rush to your aid. While you're being tended to, his concern is palpable; his eyes scan for any signs of harm as he utters all while using the voice. ‘Where?’ This gesture of worry has become familiar, a reassurance you've grown accustomed to, especially when your visits to the infirmary often serve as an excuse to steal moments with him. ‘Dropped a weapon on my foot,’ you explain with a hint of ruefulness, ‘guess my impatience got the better of me, inadvertently knocking out one of the armories. Pity.’
Indeed, quite a pity. Paul couldn't help but notice your composure, devoid of any telltale signs of injury. It either seemed that the nurse had efficiently tended to you before his arrival—a stroke of luck, perhaps. However, Paul wasn't fooled; this wasn't the first time you'd urgently summoned him to the infirmary. Today, he harbored suspicions that you might finally reveal the true reason behind your frequent visits. “If you'd prefer I refrain from using the Voice," he remarked, a hint of seriousness in his tone, "you'll need to be more forthcoming than simply labeling it an accident, my dear."
However, you eventually reassured the head nurse, explaining that it was merely a minor issue requiring attention. Your heart fluttered with a mixture of nerves and affection as Paul insisted on tending to your wounds himself, rather than delegating the task to anyone else. As the room cleared, leaving just the two of you alone, Paul attempted to devise a plausible excuse while discreetly observing your work. This added another layer of challenge for him, yet he remained determined to keep a watchful eye on you. “Now tell,” A pregnant pause was felt soon as he sat next to you. “How I am suppose to know, that there is probably more reason than just a visit at the nursery?” 
You find yourself drawn in by his innocence, but observing Paul working alongside his father and their associates, it becomes evident that innocence was not his defining trait anymore. In fact, there's a possibility he understands more than he lets on. Maybe he's even willing to engage in the game you're playing. You nonchalantly dismiss any concerns, offering the excuse that you're just adding a bit of spice to the situation. However, Paul's reaction suggests that perhaps it's not the right moment to discuss such matters, especially anything related to the Spice itself.
Paul tilted his head, almost taking offense at your attempt at humor. Despite his awareness of your desire to spend more time alone with him, he understood that convincing him to stay a little longer each time wasn't as simple as it seemed. Even if his attempts at pampering you, like tending to invisible wounds that morphed into cuddle sessions, were charming, he recognized that your discussions about the 'Spice' were more about politics than relaxation. Poor thing– that was all he knew about out. This realization led to a soft chuckle from you, followed by an apology for bringing up the topic. However, Paul dismissed your apology, urging you not to discuss such matters, especially around him, as he couldn't help but wonder why you frequented the nursing room more often than before. “Now tell me, or I might just become as impatient as you’ll be when demanding kisses..”
His voice trailed off, almost seductive when Paul was right about to expose this little game of yours. Instantly you could feel his lip curve slightly into a smirk as he saw your expression, your eyes winding in shock, trying your very best to obliged. That you were the one who meant to shock Paul out of his work for some time but, perhaps you were indeed right about your wonders. That in fact, Paul knew that the exact reasons why you obliged yourself to the nursing room more often than ever. Only to find out, it was to spend more time with him. But Paul being himself, being the type of guy that he is, did not to confess his wrong at first or to be completely oblivious. After all– he is the duke’s son. 
"So, let me get this straight," Paul Atreides began, his tone tinged with a mixture of disbelief and introspection. "I, Paul Atreides, am so easily ensnared by your little charade? It's rather disheartening, truth be told." There was a hint of a pout on his lips as he contemplated your adeptness at expressing your desires, though he couldn't entirely fault you for it. With the constant demands of dealing with the Harkonnens and managing CHOAM affairs, finding time for you had become more challenging than he and you had anticipated. 
Unlike his parents, whose marriage was purely political, Paul had chosen a different path, one where your presence held a significance beyond mere political alliances. For him, building a future within the confines of the Atreides' House with you by his side was a deeply personal and cherished desire. Material wealth could wait; what mattered most was the connection he shared with you. With a sigh, he reached out to gently caress your cheek, a silent acknowledgment of your correctness all along. Perhaps it was time to prioritize his own happiness, even if it meant putting paperwork aside momentarily. "Maybe you're onto something," he admitted, his voice softening. "Perhaps you’re right, perhaps it's time for me to take a break from the endless bureaucracy and spend some quality time together. After all, even I need to unwind–."
Paul's words carried a weight of remorse rarely heard, especially within the esteemed Atreides family. As he neared the end of his sentence, you leaned in swiftly, feeling the soft brush of his lips against yours in a lingering kiss. The longing shared between you both was palpable, though circumstances often made indulgence impractical, intensifying the desire even more. When Paul finally pulled away, he gently nibbled at your lower lip, a playful chuckle escaping him at the sudden surge of hunger between the two of you. There was an undeniable yearning to touch, caress, and love you. "Perhaps I'll request a day off," he murmured, his voice laced with a hint of promise. “Perhaps you will.” You both end up chuckling as he cups your face, his eyes gazing from your eyes to your lips. Paul confessed once more,
“And perhaps, we don't always have to use the excuse of happy accidents, so I can exile from paperwork every now and then.” 
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roxygen22 · 8 hours
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Timothee sickfic but you chose whatever sickness
With Female reader plz
Since I just posted a Timothée/Laurie sickfic yesterday, I switched to a sick reader instead.
Stay With Me
C/W: fever, fainting, hospitals
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I heard a muffled voice as I came to, like I was underwater. When did I fall asleep? I felt someone shaking my shoulders.
"[incoherent mumbling]...[y/n]...[Y/N]!" The voice became clearer. Timothée's voice. "There you are. Stay with me, baby. Stay with me," I heard him say in a panic. I felt him kiss my forehead. "Oh f*ck, you're burning up."
I blinked and looked around, confused. Why am I in my bedroom floor? When did Timothée get here? I saw the outline of Timothée's form, but I couldn't focus on it. I only knew it was him by the sound of his voice. It sounded like he was calling someone. I didn't want to sleep, but I couldn't stop my eyelids from closing again...so tired...
The next time I woke, I heard the distinct sound of a heart rate monitor. I could smell noxious aroma of disinfectant. Am I in the hospital? Why am I here? The beeping intensified as I became more cognizant - and fearful - of my surroundings. It took a lot of effort to finally get my eyes open. All I could see at first was the harsh fluorescent light above me.
Once I could focus, I looked over and spotted Timothée's head on the bed. His frame was slumped over from his seat next to me. His hand held mine as he slept using his forearm as a pillow. He jumped up from his seat when he felt me stir. I saw the look of sheer relief on his face when he locked eyes with me.
"Oh, [Y/N], baby, you're awake! Oh, thank God, you're awake." Timothée sandwiched my hand between his and kissed it repeatedly. Tears rolled down his cheeks.
"What-" I tried to ask what happened, but my throat was too dry to make more than a raspy sound.
"Shh, shhh, don't strain your voice. Here, let's get you some water." He used one hand to support my head and the other to hold the cup as I took tiny sips from the straw. It felt like I hadn't drank anything in days.
"What happened?" I finally managed to get the words out.
"You didn't answer the door when I came by to pick you up for dinner. I got worried because I hadn't heard from you since we exchanged texts that morning, so I used my key to get in. I found you passed out in your bedroom floor. I have no idea how long you were like that. You-" his voice cracked. "You weren't responsive when I tried to wake you up. When you came to, it wasn't for long. You were feverish, too. I got scared and called 911. They brought you to the hospital."
"Do they know what's wrong with me? How long have I been here?" I had so many questions, but that was all I could muster.
"You've been in and out of consciousness for two days. But even when you were awake, you weren't lucid. They ran tests - you contracted West Nile Virus."
"Two days?! Have YOU been here for two days?" You dropped your head to the pillow. "All of those mosquito bites from the photography walk."
Timothée nodded. "That's what tipped them off to check for WNV first. They asked me about your travel history and habits. They wanted me to stay in the waiting room until they confirmed you didn't have anything contagious, but they relented if I agreed to mask and glove up after I kept bugging the nurses for updates. I didn't want you to wake up alone."
"You hate hospitals," I whimpered.
He half-smiled. "Not as much as I hated the thought of you being alone and scared." He kissed my hand again.
Timothée stayed with me until I was discharged days later, only leaving long enough to go shower and grab some clothes for both of us. He drove me home and helped me to my apartment. He cleaned out my fridge of any expired foods and went shopping to restock it. He waited on me hand and foot and even tucked me into bed. When he acted like he was about to leave, I asked:
"Stay with me, Timmy. Please."
"Always," Timothée whispered as he settled under the covers next to me.
<><><><><>
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Tag List:
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HC of Timmy buying you expensive gifts but always hiding the price because otherwise you wouldn't accept them
Timmy would be so afraid of you thinking he is trying to buy you affection. And you don't want him to think he has to buy you expensive things. In fact, you would prefer if he didn't because it made you feel bad.
As awful as it sounds, to Timmy, price is not important. He doesn't look at the price because he only thinks of you. He is out with friends and walks by a store and in the window is a bracelet he knows you will love. Or a jacket that will match a pair of shoes you bought weeks before. He just can't help but want to make you smile or happy. Giving gifts is one of his love languages.
But he knows that the price matters to you, so he has gotten creative. He wants to tell himself he isn't lying to you, but that is exactly what he is doing.
"Oh that watch was a gift from an interviewer and I thought you would look lovely in it, my love."
"Could you believe I found this jacket at a vintage shop for a third of the normal price?
"The tag? Umm, those purses don't come with tags on them. The price? I'm sorry, my love, but I must have thrown out the receipt.
He even went as far as to send something to you anonymously but of course, you were freaked out by getting an expensive gift from a stranger and had to come clean.
"Timmy, darling, I don't need expensive gifts. Really it's too much."
"But I just love you. And I see things that you like and I want to get them for you. I love watching you light up when you get something. Holidays and birthdays are not enough."
"Then maybe we should at least lower gifts to twice a month? At this rate, I will have more jewelry than I can ever wear."
That only leads to months later you going into the hall closet and shopping boxes fall out of things he brought.
"TIMMY I THOUGHT WE SAID TWICE A MONTH"
Timmy from another room reddens and shouts back. "YOU SAID GIVING NOTHING ABOUT ME STOP BUYING THEM."
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kteezy997 · 4 months
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The Candy Man-Part One// W.W.
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Warnings: Smut, mention of masturbation, male receiving oral sex, virgin Wonka, cowgirl, missionary, some dirty talk, curse words, cream pie, female receiving oral sex, oh and cheating on spouse A/n: I have not seen Wonka yet, so there are NO spoilers here!
As a young housewife, there wasn't much for you to do. You had done the housework for the week and done all the grocery shopping, and it was only Wednesday. This would make for a long, boring week.
It would be different if you had a child to look after, but sadly, that hadn't happened yet. And it may never happen if your husband continues to show such a low interest in sex. Sometimes it felt like he forgot you even existed.
You wished he would just give you a baby, if he didn't want to give you attention. That way you'd have not only something to occupy your time, but you'd also have someone to love, and for someone to love you. You weren't even sure if your husband loved you anymore. Your relationship wasn't the same as when you were first married two years ago.
These days, all you really wanted was for him to come home, rip your clothes off, and fuck you like he hadn't seen a woman in years. You wanted to feel desired, so badly. You had recently picked up a habit of touching yourself sexually while your husband was away at work. You were so starved.
.....
Autumn had come and gone by this time of the year and it was becoming quite frigid outside. With winter well on the way, you turned on your fireplace in the living room. You didn't really care for the bear skin rug that your husband insisted on having in front of the fireplace, but it wasn't worth the fight to try to get rid of it.
With the fire going, you snuggled up into a cozy sweater and put on some mindless radio station to fill in the silence of the empty house. As you listened to the radio and did some mild tidying about the room, you wondered if you should maybe get a dog, or maybe a cat.
Then the doorbell rang, that's weird. You thought. You seldom had any visitors during the day. You walked over and opened the door.
"Hello, Miss. My name is Willy Wonka! Would you care to sample some of my chocolate on this fine day?"
"Fine day? It's freezing out there," you said as you were awestruck by this man's beauty, his bright purple coat and milk chocolate-colored top hat added a sort of zany zest to his attractiveness. "um, would you care to come in and warm up for a minute?" you said politely, nodding to his briefcase that you assumed was filled with sweets, adding, "I do love chocolate."
"Why, yes, if you're sure you don't mind." he smiled, and his green eyes were dazzling.
"No, I don't mind at all, sir."
Willy took his hat off, and his curls fell downward in a bit of a mess as he stepped into the warm home. "Thank you, I didn't get your name."
"Oh, I'm y/n. Please, sit down, the fire is going."
"It is quite toasty in here, thank you, y/n." Willy said, taking a seat on the couch closest to the fireplace. “Very interesting choice of a rug, y/n.” he chirped.
“Oh that? My husband insisted on it, it’s so dreadful. But it is rather soft.”
“Hm.” he nodded looking at the luscious, dark colored fur on the floor. He then looked at her, cheerily, “So, would you like to try some?” He picked up his briefcase.
“Of course.” you said with a smile, truly wanting to try some of him instead, but you’d give his candy a chance for now. He was so damn handsome. His hair was gorgeous, you wanted to run your fingers through it, maybe even pull it.
He opened his briefcase in his lap, letting you choose which candy you wanted.
You picked a piece of chocolate, and he told you the name of it, and its special ingredients. You listened to him, but ultimately got lost in his innocent yet sexy eyes. You bit into the treat, and it was rich and velvety sweet as it melted in your mouth. It was absolutely delicious. The best candy you ever had in your life.
“Mr. Wonka, this is perfection, it’s absolutely divine.”
Willy smiled widely, “I’m pleased to hear it. I have only ever hoped that each person that tries my chocolate will have that same reaction.”
He was so genuinely confident and excited about his creation. The passion he had was evident.
“I’ll take every one of this flavor that you have, Mr. Wonka.” you said, taking another delicious bite.
“Wonderful!” he exclaimed, “And please, call me Willy.”
“Willy.” you said, softly. You wanted to moan his name. But how to get there? You improvised. “Um, why don’t you stay for a bit longer? I can put in a pot of tea, if you’d like.”
“That sounds lovely y/n, or should I call you Mrs…”
“Oh, it’s Mrs. Hudson, but you can just call me y/n.” you insisted, hopping up and going to the kitchen heating up some tea. You had to have this man. Cheating was wrong, but your husband would never, ever know. He never wanted sex anymore, but you couldn’t go without it like he did. You were so needy, especially now, after meeting the handsome Mr. Wonka.
You had plenty of time to have Willy fuck you and send him on his way with his payment for the chocolate, all before Mr. Hudson got home. You would have to make Mr. Wonka an offer he couldn’t refuse, much like you couldn’t refuse his delectable sweets.
You carried two cups of steaming, aromatic tea, one for you and one for Willy. You hoped it would warm him up properly.
“Here you are, sir.”
“Why thank you, very kindly, my lady.” he took the teacup from you, and you felt weak in your knees when your hand was briefly brushed by his fingers. You watched as he carefully brought the rim of the cup to his lips, taking a small sip. “Mm, that’s quite good. A perfect cup of tea, y/n.”
“Thank you. I’m glad you like it.” you said, sitting down next to him and taking a sip for yourself. You didn’t know how to get this man naked; you weren’t finding any viable option that wouldn’t be too crude or forward. You felt you were running out of time. You couldn’t let him leave with the risk of never seeing him again. This delightful, beautiful man could not escape you.
“Well, this has been quite the pleasure.” he said, in a farewell tone. He took one last sip of his tea.
You haven’t had the pleasure, yet.
“But I will get out if your hair,” Willy stood up, continuing, “and go about my merry way. Thank you for your-"
“Wait! Willy-" you shot up to your feet as you spoke but couldn’t finish a sentence. You just started into his eyes.
“Yes?” he asked, frowning at you, utterly confused by your behavior.
You didn’t have the words, so you threw yourself at him, kissing him hungrily.
He took ahold of you, and pulled away from the kiss, “Y/n, are you mad?”
“Oh, god! I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…”
“No, it is alright. It was kind of…nice.”
“Yeah? Mr. Wonka, I had an idea of pleasing you the way you pleased me with your chocolate. If you’ll indulge me?”
He raised his eyebrows, “I have to say, I’m intrigued.”
You put your hands on his chest, making him sit back down on the couch. Your hands then went to his fly.
“Whoa! What are you doing?” he asked, panicky.
“Shh-sh. Relax, Willy. Do you like me?”
“Ye-yes.” he trembled with nerves. “I find you very pretty.”
“I really like you. Have you…ever been with a woman before?” You rested your hands on his upper thighs, dangerously close to his member. It was visible through his trousers although he wasn’t even hard yet.
Willy shook his head, “No, ma’am.”
“Awe, don’t be scared. I’ll take care of you, okay. Do you want that, Willy?” You ran your hands slowly around the outline of his cock.
He gulped, watching your hands on his pants, “Yes, I think I would really like that.”
“Good.” You beamed, unzipping his trousers, and pulling his cock out. He was much thicker and longer than your husband. You were excited about being Willy’s first. You wet his cock with your tongue, and sucked him, moaning and slurping as you did so. You wanted him so bad; you sucked his cock like your life depended on it.
A string of “oh oh oh”’s and “mmm’”s fell from Willy’s mouth as you worked over his cock. He writhed on the couch and placed a hand on your head.
He was hard as stone after a moment, and you had been wet since he sat on your couch the first time. “Oh, Willy. Do you feel good, my sweet?”
“Yes,” he panted, his eyes glazed over, “very good.”
You stood up, and dropped your underwear to the ground, kicking them elsewhere. Then, you mounted him. His hands instinctively went to your waist. You reached down, placing his member between your folds. You sank down on him, feeling the intense stretch of your vaginal walls. You moaned in a slight pain initially, because his was larger than your husband, and you had never been with anyone else.
“Are you alright, y/n?”
“Oh, yes, darling, just give me a moment.” you adjusted, and then started to bounce in his lap.
Willy watched you in wonder and awe, then he’d look down to watch your pussy envelope his cock. “Haa, this is incredible.” he moaned, gripping your hips harder.
You quickened your pace. Sinful wet sounds came from your pussy. God, you needed this. The friction alone was titillating, but the tip of his cock would hit your cervix every so often and it was bliss, the whole scenario.
"Oh, y/n!" Willy cried your name over and over again. His hands explored your clothed body, groping your curves.
Damn, it felt so nice to be touched, and his hands were surprisingly big, and he knew how to use them.
You held yourself up with your hands on his shoulders, and slowly rocked back and forth on his cock. You noticed him eyeing your chest. "Unbutton my blouse, Willy."
He bit his lip with an eager gleam in his eyes, and he opened up the front of your blouse, letting your breasts plop out in his face.
Willy's eyes widened, he took his eyes away from your tits to look up in your eyes, "May I feel them?" he asked with a soft whimper.
"Yes, absolutely." you huffed, taking his hands and clapping them onto your naked breasts.
He gently squeezed and kneaded your breasts, then rolled your nipples between his fingers.
He was so sweet, and so curious about your body. It was so hot. You wanted to get off, you hoped to cum all over his dick. You held onto his arms firmly and rode him hard. His cock pounded away at your walls wildly, and you contracted your pussy around his girth.
"Ah! Fuck this is so good! I'm gonna...I'm gonna come!"
"Oh, oh!" Willy held your waist, and you felt his cock twitch inside you.
Your tummy swirled, and your legs went limp as you came.
"What's happening?" Willy cried, "What is this?" You felt him shoot ropes of his milky cum inside of you.
You took his worried face in your hands, "You're alright, my candy man. You had an orgasm. It's a wonderful thing."
"Oh," he panted, "yes, I suppose it is. A fantastic thing! Gosh, y/n, that felt like chocolate tastes, and chocolate is the best thing in the world!" he was so excited, like he'd discovered something that no one else had experienced before.
You giggled, "Well, I'm flattered, Willy." you felt hot and sweaty, you ran your hand down the back of your neck. You felt Willy's eyes on your tits.
"Your breasts, they are absolutely beautiful." he took them in his hands, just admiring the fullness of them.
You felt your pussy throb at the sight. Your husband never paid much attention to your body, but Willy seemed to be enthralled by you. You noticed how the glow of the fire highlighted his cocoa-colored curls. It was so pretty, his hair looked like the work of a master chocolatier. You ran your fingers through it, feeling the silkiness of his glorious mane.
"Can we do it again?" he asked you, then nodded to the floor, "There? On the bear skin rug? It would be comfortable for you."
"You're so thoughtful. Fuck me again, Willy Wonka. Pound me into the floor if you must."
Willy smiled like a kid on Christmas morning and hoisted you up and then carefully placed you down on the rug.
The fur was plush and soothing on your back. You put your arms up by your head to get comfy.
Willy ran his hands down your body. He looked at you like you were a gift he had been waiting for. "You are so beautiful. Your husband does not know how lucky he is."
"That's sweet, Willy, but let's not mention my husband."
He nodded, "Right." Then, he dipped down, pressing his lips to your stomach.
"Mm." you moaned, rubbing your thighs together in anticipation. You could feel Willy's semen dripping out of you. You wanted more.
Willy left small wet kisses down passed your navel, lower and lower, and you couldn't help but push his head down where you needed him most.
"How do I do this, y/n? Is it like... licking a lollipop?" he asked, naively.
You smiled at him and said, "Yes, kind of. Like a sucker with a chewy center...but you're not in a big hurry to get to the center. You're just trying to enjoy the flavor on the outside."
He took a second to ponder over what you had said, then he nodded, "Okay, got it."
He was a quick learner. He lapped steadily on your clit; his pacing was perfect, not too fast, not too slow. He must have had lots of suckers in his life.
"You can use the tip of your tongue also, Willy." you whimpered through the pleasure.
"Oh, okay." he answered, his voice muffled as he didn't move away from your pussy as he spoke.
The vibrations from his voice sent tingles through your body. That coupled with Willy massaging your clit with his tongue and letting the tip dance between your folds, led you to your second orgasm. You cried out in ecstasy. "Willy Wonka, you are a god!"
"No, I'm just a chocolate maker." he said, nonchalantly. He then sat on his knees, his hand around his cock. He ran the tip of his cock along the joint of your wet folds, coating himself in your cum.
"Ooh." you moaned, tucking your fingers into the furry rug as firmly as you could.
Willy slid into you, then back out. "Ha, you're so wet."
"Fuck me hard, Willy." you purred.
With that, he shoved his cock into you, bucking his hips roughly. His hips smacked your skin with each thrust. He put his whole length into you. He gripped your thighs and started to get faster.
You squeezed him with your thighs, and he grew more confident in what he was doing and picked up a rhythm. You watched his handsome face scrunch up as he worked his hips, his thick brows furrowing in both pleasure and concentration.
You wondered what your husband would do if he knew that the candy man stopped by and made you come on the bear skin rug he loved so much. Oh, the risk was worth it! For Willy was perhaps better at sex than making chocolate.
@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss
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gh0stsp1d3r · 4 months
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Ooo can I please request a Wonka x fem!reader where she’s his wife and she gets trapped in the laundry mat as well and Willy is really upset and feeling like an awful husband because they don’t have a lot of money and now are also stuck captive🥺 Y/n reassuring him that they’ll get through this and that she’s just happy that they’re together 🥺 They’ve been together for years, and Y/n has been by his side through all of the adventures with getting all his chocolate ingredients and making chocolate, and she’ll always stay by her SWEET husband’s side 🥹
Also I LOVE YOU
oh m gee I love this idea AND I LOVE u!! my reqs r open for wonka now (;
𝒯𝓇𝒶𝓅𝓅ℯ𝒹
𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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“Willy.” You groaned out when your head hit the bottom of the chute. He said your name, looking at you and quickly grabbing your hand.
You both then looked in front of you guys, at the others. They introduced themselves, but he wasn't having any of it. He got up and you both quickly tried to find an exit.
"There's a dog over there-" someone said, but it was too late when you realized, and the dog barked, so you backed away.
He was frustrated with himself- In his mind, it was his fault. He felt like a terrible husband when he looked at your face full of confusion. You were trapped.
You both listened and watched as they explained what you both would be doing- for God knows how long. You noticed his unusual behavior and quietness. And at the end of the day, you stood in his room with him.
"Willy, what’s wrong?”you interrupted his thoughts.
"I'm sorry. I'm... so sorry," he said, his voice barely audible.
“It's not your fault, willy.”
“It is. I should've known something was wrong."
“You shouldn't blame yourself, Willy. You couldn't have read it. You couldn’t have known.”
He sighed and sat down on the bed. You sat down next to him, and he turned to you, taking your hand in his.
"All I've ever wanted since I married you was to make you happy. You've been with me every step of the way. I love you, so much. And now, we're stuck in the basement of a hag all because I wasn't careful. You are the best thing to ever happen in my life. You deserve better.”
You laughed at the last sentence. "I'm happy. I'm happy anywhere I am as long as it's with you. I love you, and I promise you we'll get through this. When we get out of here, we'll start the best chocolate business anyone's ever seen." you said, he looked at you with a small smile on his face as you talked.
His eyes were full of adoration, with a twinkle of hope as he listened to your words. He leaned in and closed his eyes, hands moving to cup your face.
"I love you." he said once more, his words a promise of a better future.
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