#Timothée Chalamet x you

[roxygen22]

Charlie Cooper x Reader!! For the Christmas mood or whatever

Summary: A grown-up Charlie brings you home to meet the family for Christmas.

Cooper Christmas

"Are you sure you want to do this? My family is...a lot." Charlie sat beside you, grasping your hand as his knee bounced anxiously.

"It's a bit late to be confirming that," you teased. "We're already behind security at the airport."

"It's never too late until we're on the plane, and even then, I'd bribe the pilot or fake a medical emergency to turn the plane around if you wanted."

Your brows knit together in concern. "Are you sure YOU want to go?"

Charlie hesitated before tentatively nodding his head. "Like I said, they're just a LOT to handle. But, for better or worse, they are my family."

"They are going to be my family, too, remember," you half-smiled, playing with the new ring that adorned your left hand. "We'll get through it together."

You both courageously boarded the flight, and soon, you left behind the crowded airport to head toward the burbs on Pittsburgh. After dropping off the luggage at the hotel and freshening up, the two of you made the short drive to Charlie's grandparents' home.

A tall, skinny teenage girl with dark hair and equally dark clothing opened the door before you and Charlie reached the top of the steps.

"Hey, sis! Merry Christmas!" He opened his arms for a hug.

"Hey," she replied flatly and turned away, leaving him hanging and the door wide open.

Charlie leaned over to whisper, "She's going through an emo phase, according to Dad. Don't take it personally." He took your hand and led you through the front door. You heard the sound of multiple conversations wafting through the home, as well as the sound of children laughing. Aside from the amusingly cold greeting, it felt warm and cozy inside.

His grandmother rushed by from the kitchen to the dining room and stopped in her tracks when she spotted her grandson.

"Oh, Charlie! You made it!" She embraced him in a squeezing hug until your presence registered. "Oh, my goodness, I'm so sorry. Charlie, you didn't tell me you had a plus one this year." She adjusted her hair and clothes nervously before extending her hand toward you. "I'm Charlotte."

You shook her hand as Charlie said, "Grandma, this is [Y/N], my..."

"Oh, [Y/N], what a lovely name. We'll set out another place setting for you. Please excuse me," Charlotte interrupted hurriedly. "Sam! Can you grab another plate and chair?" she yelled into the living room as she scurried away.

"You didn't tell them that I was coming?" you asked through a forced smile and gritted teeth.

"I promise, I told my dad. He must not have spread the word."

Charlie's grandfather came into the foyer to investigate. "Ah, Charlie! You made it." Sam looked over at you. "And you must be the extra place setting," he joked. "I'm Sam."

Feeling your embarrassment, Charlie took your hand as you blushed. "Grandpa, this is [Y/N], my-"

He was yet again cut off by his grandmother yelling something to his about mashed potatoes. Sam held up his index finger to pause the conversation. "I'll be right back."

Charlie just shook his head before he proceeded to lead you deeper into the house toward the sound of beeping and squawking children's toys.

"Charlie!" Two tiny voices called out excitedly as he reached the living room threshold. They dropped their toys and ran to him.

He knelt down to their level and caught them in his arms, delivering the same squeezing hug that seemed to be a family staple. "Hey, you two!"

"Who's that?" The littlest pointed up at you, so you knelt, too.

"This is [Y/N], my-"

"Hey, Charlie," a tall woman interrupted as she walked into the room. You guessed the two boys belonged to her. "Kids, give them some space." You and Charlie stood, and Charlie abandoned you just briefly to give the lady a hug.

"Aunt Eleanor, good to see you. Where's Joe?"

"He went to the store with your dad and Bo. They should be back any minute now. Who's-?" Eleanor pointed to you and smiled.

"Oh!" Charlie reached back to grab your hand and pull you forward. "This is [Y/N], my-"

"Charlie!"

Charlie spun at his dad's voice just in time to be pulled into a hug.

"Hey, big guy!" Hank continued. "I was hoping I would be back from the store before you got here. And [Y/N]! It's so good to finally meet you in person!"

Hank pulled you into your first family hug. Once the initial shock melted, you laughed and returned the embrace. "Nice to meet you, too, Mr. Cooper."

"Hank, please. Mr. Cooper is in the kitchen."

A young man you recognized as Charlie's brother, Bo, from video calls rounded the corner. "Charlie-hee!" he bellowed.

"Bo! Good to see you, man!" Despite being his "little" brother, Bo towered over him as the two embraced. They turned to you as Bo still hung by an arm around his brother's neck.

"And this must be [Y/N]. Tell me, does this guy still kiss like he's having a seizure?"

You covered your mouth and giggled as Charlie elbowed his brother. "Come on, man, cut it out."

"What? I was just wondering whether or not you outgrew it." Bo laughed then released his brother. Charlie rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment and reclaimed his spot by your side just in time for his grandmother to call everyone to the dining table.

Everyone formed an assembly line to fill their plates and organize around the dining table. The room was filled with a dull roar of multiple conversations. You went along with the flow and got pulled into small talk about life in the big city by Eleanor's husband Joe across from you, when suddenly...

"[Y/N] and I are getting married," Charlie blurted out at a deafening volume. The table silenced except for the clanking of utensils as they dropped to the plates. You wished you could crawl under the table at the sudden attention.

"[Y/N] and I are getting married," he repeated at a more reasonable volume. "I have been trying to tell you all since we got here."

Suddenly, the room broke into a clamoring of congratulations, everyone vying for air space to welcome you to the family. Charlotte came over and hugged you both at the same time. Bo bumped your shoulder with his as a sort of welcoming gesture, an invitation/warning for the same level of ribbing he gives your fiancé.

After dinner, the family retired to the living room for a round of hot cocoa and exchanged presents. You enjoyed watching Charlie interact with his two young cousins as they got excitable over the new toys the two of you picked out for them and found yourself wondering what starting your own family (years from now) would be like.

Once the evening wrapped up and you said your goodbyes, the silence of the car was deafening compared to the dull roar that filled your ears like you had been at a concert for hours. Charlie turned on the car and looked over at you. "I told you they are a lot."

"Yeah, they were a lot. But there was a lot of love, too."

Charlie smiled and nodded before pulling your hand to his lips for a kiss as you drove away from his family home.

<><><><><>

Masterlist

@croatianprincess @bluizh @groovy-lady @pmak2002

[gladiatorcunt]

- MOTHERBOARD BIRDCAGE | XVI.

the machine masturbated and we had to take it or die

cw: kinktober prompt (dubcon) fem reader, takes place at the beginning of dune 1, fem reader, dark!paul, misogyny, allusions to collaring and bondage, implied mind control orgasms, cunnilingus, arranged marriage (reader and paul are the same age), slight degradation/dumbification, reader has an implied attraction to leto, implied overstimulation, teasing, paul talks about reader like she’s a literal meal, dead dove do not eat, unedited

please do not repost, translate, or feed this work to ai

kinktober 2024

The winter sun hangs heavy on Paul Atreides' head like a pale crown.

“You look radiant, my love.”

An exhalation, “Thank you, I am happy it pleases you.”

“I think it will always please me to drink in the sight of you for the rest of our lives, a crucial part of my every meal.”

His father smiles, pleased and amused, a saying that is learned behavior then. Leto Atreides studies your gait, dragging his weighing stare back to your neutral face as they yearn to drift lower, lower, lower.

The dawn marking your second decade of life flies in on wedding bells, the night sleeps restlessly on the Atreides’s ship to Arrakis.

You pace back and forth, now kept in a room in your in-laws stronghold on the sand planet. Your marriage bed is practically all that exists in the beige space, unassuming built in shelves on either side. What is a wife to do but drape herself over the golden sheets and sigh the days away, after all.

Paul has been very polite with you, smiling charmingly against your mouth during your chaste first kiss, keeping his touches brief and only from his fingertips to the small of your back. You would take a step away and you could practically feel his fingers splay out, yearning, the air crackling, but he always let his hands fall to his sides.

You smile at him when you can, in your own way, tense and barely there. You haven’t been married for 24 hours, and your husband is already off doing his duty. You try not to think about it, the reason for the Atreides to stay on Arrakis and your loneliness. Paul is someone you’ve known for as long you’ve been his wife, but you have no one else.

His mother is deeply complicated and his father… Paul told you it’s just better for you to stay away. So you have, wasting the hours away pacing, going over your outfit options with the new handmaids you selected, the rejects from the ones sent to be picked over by your mother in law. The loneliness has become unbearable, Paul visits when he has the time, brief kisses and barely there grasps of your elbow.

You can hardly be blamed for being at your wits end one night, huffing as you roll over in bed after your afternoon nap and sliding one of the pillows between your supple thighs. It’s where Paul rests his head for the few hours you share a bed as most married couples are meant to do, you can still smell the traces of sea vapor and cold tree bark that he left behind.

“Hah….” You softly moan, languidly rocking your hips, missing your clit entirely but you have been on the brink for so long that there is no need for direct stimulation.

Your cunt quickly wets the expensive golden fabric through your undergarments, and you allow yourself to imagine it’s a man’s thigh you’re grinding on. Your husband’s, pale but flushed pink and thickened with sinewy muscle, used to tensing up. You can’t say if you feel a great desire to turn these visions into reality, but the imaginary is safe, and safe is good. You cannot mess up smooshing an ordinary pillow against your weeping cunt.

You are used to arousal being shameful, everyone stuffs their fingers up their holes and goes through trial and error until they hurtle over the edge, and they’ll don their gowns to tell their juniors the horrors of sexual proclivity. You’ve never even fingered yourself, the most you’ve done is shyly slip a digit in and then yanked it out when you felt a dull burn.

If only your teachers and staff of your castle could see you now, dry humping your distant new husband’s pillow with no orgasm in sight. You sigh and sink your head into the remaining nest of pillows, lounging in the lazy pleasure that’s barely pleasure at all. Your eyes flutter shut, which turns out to be the pivotal moment of your marriage.

You feel him before you see him, a lanky hand gingerly slides over your wide hip into the dip, not halting your movements or guiding you, merely touching to touch.

Your eyes shoot open and you try to flinch but Paul hisses something quietly, a wave of calm washes over you but you still look over your shoulder to hesitantly meet his eyes. Paul grants you a small warm smile, rubbing circles into your hip with his thumb.

“I was planning to discuss this with you, but apparently you’ve taken matters into your own hands, my love.” He softly chuckles, bending down to peck the swell of your warm cheek.

His next words are whispered into your pores, his mouth so close that you feel the stitches sewing his skin to yours, “I know this has been a new experience for you, and you barely had time to get used to Caladan before you were whisked away here, but you have to know that I promise to be a loving husband.”

How can you be assured of that? If there is anyone to be wary of in this universe, you’ve been taught that it is one’s husband.

“Yes, well, can you at least…” You awkwardly trail off, pointedly gesturing to the pillow wedged between your thighs, he had not let you move since he had returned.

Paul's face transforms in genuine confusion, brow furrowing and eyes narrowing ever so slightly, then his eyes drift down to the pillow and he exhales an ‘ah’.

His grip tightens, the tips of his fingers form mini half craters in your flesh. “I don’t see the point in that, unless the way you’re clutching onto the thing for dear life causes you pain then it can remain where it is.”

You get swept up in the undercurrent warning. He’s right unfortunately, the pillow is too silken to bring you any discomfort, you are just too prideful and prone to embarrassment. From the glint in his eyes, this will be something he will help you work on until it’s a trait of a past you. You shyly meet his stoney gaze head on as you let your thighs relax, they slide down the pillow and settle on the plush bedding.

Paul leans over with interest, sliding his hands from your hip dips to caress your inner thighs. You automatically tense up and he tuts, fixing you with a cajoling look.

“Come on.” He coos, his fingers travel up your thighs to play with the tufts of hair peeking out from your underclothes. “How are a husband and wife meant to get to know each other if their bodies are uncharted territories? You don’t even speak to me.”

You sigh, relaxing your body so your husband can peruse it as he pleases. Paul leans down to get closer and gets a hold on your underwear, in an instant they’re torn away. You react with an aggravated exclamation, Paul smiles as he leans down to press a kiss to the center of the hair on your mound. Your breath hitches but you say nothing, frozen by the shock of what is supposed to be a perfectly natural moment between a married couple.

Paul drags his nose through your pubic hair, his tongue darts out for small licks every so often. You ball your hands into fists as he moves his mouth towards your swollen bud. When he finds it, he latches on and starts to suckle, smoothing his hands up and down your legs as if you’re nothing more than a frightened bull, a beastly thing that he tames and conquers.

“Refreshing.” He murmurs into your folds, his tongue leaves your clit to lick broad stripes before fucking inside your sloppy hole. “I could do this forever if my wife would let me.”

He would do it even if you kicked and screamed, but that’s neither here nor there. You don’t even need his powers to be open and willing this time, well, open enough. He has an acquired taste, little wives who ultimately bend to their husband’s will but act as if a spiked chain is around their neck.

The cool metal will become as warm as Arrakis’ sun in the blink of an eye.

You dig your nails into your palms, convinced you can barricade yourself against the pleasure through sheer will. Paul Atreides has never been one to succumb to your grievances, you’ll crumble to pieces under his influence, it could be a soft and slow thing if you act properly. He wants hearts to bloom in your irises, sparks of light forming a ring around your pupils, miniature collars.

You flail about for a moment and carve into the sheets with your heels, your skin so smooth you slip and lose your footing. Paul keeps watch from his vantage point between your thighs, lapping up the wetness pushed out by your body in the same way you’ve seen him sip his drinks. Slow, but purposeful, an act of seduction under the disguise of something truly mundane. He curls his tongue and it reminds you of a dance, you’re caught up in the whirlwind.

“I think…” He pants, nearly out of breath and he has not even been in your cunt for five minutes, “Your sweat should be bottled, I would spray it on my pillow and have the sweetest dreams.”

You don’t know what to say to that, Paul’s knack for muttering words that steal the breath from your lungs is another thing you’ve not grown used to.

“You fill me-” lick “-to the depths of my stomach.” lick

“Paul.” gasp, on the cusp of a nip to your inner thigh. “Husband.” gasp, this one is softer, your thigh gets a kiss now. “Let me- I can tend to you instead, you don’t have to do this.”

He laughs into your curls, and the tip of his nose glistens with you. His eyes are half lidded, more animal in heat than man. You’re truly too sweet for words, for the looming threat that is Paul Atreides. Desperate to perform your wifely duties, it’s much more bearable for you to degrade yourself by pleasing your husband than it is to imagine that what would truly please him would be burying his face in your beautiful cunt.

He doesn’t say any of this to you, however, because there are times when Paul prefers you just as on edge as you like to keep yourself. Your fingers twitch and slowly unfurl, but your growing hope that this strange torture will stop is dashed as Paul dives down to suck on your swollen bud. You’re surprised by how sensitive it is, how it twitches and throbs under his tongue’s attention.

Your fingers seek out the bed beneath you, begging for its help, trying to claw through the mattress itself. Paul’s fingers are digging into the meat of your thighs now, like you’re a piece of bread he can tear through to devour your innards. Your inexperience rears its head in a terribly embarrassing way, you don’t know where to look or how to push him away or how to fight against your body’s response. Your mind whispers that you want to card your shaky fingers through his hair, but you don’t, you do not.

If not because you’re determined to maintain the distance you share with Paul, then because he would enjoy it too much. He’s terrible, in a subtly sinister way, but he would drink up your every touch and scrap of affection like a parched tree.

“This cunt, it makes me sick. This hole… you’re so wet, my flower.” The syllables drip from his pink mouth like the drool that pools in your entrance. “You send me over the cliff into madness, ever since the first moment I saw you. My wife in everything but name, the missing vessel of my soul.”

Paul kitten licks your clit, tenderly raking his nails up and down your squirming legs. You act as if you can buck off your incoming orgasm like a wild horse, like your husband eating you out is a serpent wrapped around your sternum. Luckily, it’s in his DNA to tame unruly creatures, bring them to heel under his stern outstretched hand.

You mewl, a soft hearted creature at heart, practically purring, “Please.”

“Please, what? You know I’d be more than happy to give my wife whatever her heart desires. Have you forgotten my vows already? Maybe your brain is leaking out your cunt.” Paul inquires suggestively, he flattens his tongue over your hole and stills, the corners of his mouth hike up when you inevitably rock your hips against his face.

“I… why did you stop?” You don’t say that if he’s so desperate to meld your skin together then why is he ceasing his overbearing actions, but that might come across as disrespect, and Paul seems to enjoy disrespect because he can make you wish you had never been anything but the pet cleaning his feet.

A wife is not disrespectful, especially one that will soon become an even greater royal. You are blessed to have this life, as unwanted as it is, you could be a concubine, one of his father’s perhaps. Time will tell if you wish to belong to a different Atreides, but you are anchored to the present with every useless thrust your hips do.

“That’s alright, if you’ll only let me make you come by wearing yourself out, then I don’t mind. Be my quest, my love.” Paul chuckles, though it’s muffled in your folds.

You make him forget what time it is, what his next schedule will be and who he will have to navigate interacting with. History must be looking kindly on House Atreides once again, because you seem to be heading for a day wasted in bed after he’s done with you. It will be a great help to have a wife whose head is too high up in the clouds to place another cinder block on your already strenuous load.

He guesses Gurney and Duncan are right, being “pussy whipped” does exist. He can’t wait to come to meetings with his wife’s pleasure hanging off his body like the finest jewelry.

You speak again, your tone is irritated and breathless with anticipation, “D-dear. Please, husband, I feel strange, I know I’m doing it wrong. I’m sorry.”

That usually works, right? Husband’s like it when their Wife’s apologize when they believe they’re solely in the wrong. Paul seems to join them in that, nevermind that the only thing wrong you could ever do is place yourself as a separate being from him. Marriage is not for people who are content with being untethered to their lover, it’s for the howling monsters who imbed it at the center of their selves.

“Hm, that’s what I thought. This doesn’t have to be something you force yourself to endure, I can make you feel so good if you allow me.” He whispers and tightens his hold on your thighs, spreading them farther and diving back in for thirds, fourths, fifths, sixths, sevenths.

You moan louder than you thought yourself capable of, and Paul matches you with a deep one of his own that comes from the back of his throat. He slips his tongue back in your hole, his dark eyes keep watch so he can catalog every miniscule change in your expression to comb over like one of his precious digital logs. You are fire made into a humanoid being, searing curves climbing over the golden sheets like a flood of flame, your limbs searching out any reprieve from how irrevocably your lust penetrated your body.

Paul’s eyes flit towards the bundle of restraints in the corner of the room, not hidden from your line of sight, you’ve just stupidly never noticed them. You don’t notice the thought slithering around in your subconscious until it’s brought to the forefront. He opens his jaw as wide as he possibly can and does everything in his power to swallow you whole, thrusting his tongue in you until your previous self pools below your ass and wets his chin.

He would play with your clit like he’d rather take it and fidget with it when political matters get too stressful, but you arch your back as he goes to take his hands away from your thighs and his mind is made up for him. See? You really are shaping up to be an outstanding wife.

He curls his palms around the thickest part of them, pushing them apart until you whine at the slightest hint of a burn. Paul wants to show you that you can be split on more than just his cock.

You hear his voice in your head now, reverberating throughout the halls of your skill. It seems so hollow, like a bird’s, the whooshing sounds of his suggestions rattle your foundation.

A faint bundle of heat flutters in your cunt, from your clit to the precise tongue pistoning in and out of your loosening hole. Paul’s dark stare impales you into place, leaning on your elbows in this once cold marriage bed, all the trappings of luxury.

My beloved wife.

The wind fanning my flames just by existing.

You are so very dear to me, when you slump in defeat, when you laugh, when you think I’m not looking. I always am.

Gorgeous girl with a cunt most of my men would fall on their weapons to weep at your feet in hopes for a taste.

You’re so sleepy, so lax. Oh, I know. You can drift, my flower, I’ll be here, I’ll keep you anchored.

Your maids have been bored, I’ve noticed. They should be happy to change these sheets when I summon them tomorrow, life itself clutched in their hands.

Let go, my love, drench my tongue and my face, I want you to spray it so far your come coats the back of my throat. You never did give me a suitable wedding gift.

Your body assumes its own battle stance, locked up tight right before your spine feels like it’s been snapped by an invisible force. Your orgasm burns its way out of you, but you choke on how cooling it is at the same time. You’re lost to him, too out of it to be able to tell how you adorned your husband. You feel drying wet skin nuzzling between your thighs, you hear sheets being rustled in your mind as Paul blows steady air onto your clit.

Your fingers find their way through his brown almost-tresses as the small licks start again, rekindling.

[m00nkissedlover]

・｡good mornings ☁️

you've ordered: a slice of angel food cake w/ strawberries and cream! enjoy!

"in my rose-tinted dreams, wrinkled silk on my sheets, i don't see nobody but you~"

paul atreides x reader | word count: 681 words

summary: lazy mornings with paul ☁️

warnings: slight reference to sexual activity the night before, mention of aftercare. other than that, none!

note: here's a short, fluffy paul drabble to take your mind off of the horrors (iykyk, yes i live in the us-). get food, get water, i love you! 🫶🏾

sunlight filtered through the large windows of paul's bedroom, illuminating the two of you in a soft, warm glow. the two of you lay in his bed, a tangle of limbs beneath the soft, silk sheets and fluffy duvet. paul had his arm wrapped around your middle from behind, his chest pressed against your back as the two of you still wandered through dreamland.

paul was the first to wake up, slowly stirring awake as he blinked the sleep away from his eyes. he stretched out his body a little, gazing at your sleeping figure and feeling his heart swell with love and affection. you lay there, lips slightly parted as you took slow and steady breaths. your eyelashes casted shadows onto your soft cheeks, a bit of your hair falling in your face.

he was very careful to make sure he didn't wake you as he nestled back into hugging you from behind, skin touching skin. the two of you were left bare under the duvet cover after a rather eventful night of passion and love. glancing over at your neck and shoulder, paul couldn't help himself. he brushed some of your hair away from your neck, breathing in your scent before leaning over and pressing a feather light kiss to the crook of your neck. the hand of the arm around your waist would find your hip, his thumb tracing lazy circles over the smooth skin.

you slowly started to stir, feeling his touches. a soft and sleepy groan left your lips as you squirmed a little, a soft chuckle from paul reaching your ears.

"good morning." paul whispered, pressing a kiss to the sensitive spot right under your ear.

you let out a soft sound between a yelp and a sigh?, your eyes fluttering shut for a few seconds. "hm?" you muttered, still sleepy and delirious.

paul couldn't help but laugh, resting his chin on your shoulder and kissing your cheek. "morning, love." he whispered again, your eyes finally opening.

you felt paul's fingers gently run up and down your arm, his fluffy bed head tickling your neck.

"mornin'" you mumbled, your voice a bit groggy and laced with sleep. you yawned before raising a hand to rub the sleep from your eyes.

paul always thought you looked the cutest when you first woke up, all drowsy and disoriented, mumbling incoherently, your hair all messed up and slight bags under your eyes. yes, he absolutely loved seeing you like this.

you started to turn your body so you could face him, paul pulling back a bit to give you some space. you yawned again and gave him a drowsy smile, your eyes still half-lidded. paul's heart skipped a beat, one of his hands coming up to caress your cheek.

"you're so beautiful in the morning..." he muttered, his eyes full of great affection.

"you say that every morning," you rasped, feeling his free hand settling onto your hip again.

"still doesn't change the fact that it's true." he hummed, pressing your foreheads together. his fingers slowly trailed up to your stomach, tracing lazy patterns as your fingers combed through his dark, curly hair.

that small gap was closed when paul leaned in to brush his lips over yours. you returned the feather light kiss, butterflies forming in your stomach.

"we should probably get up soon." you whispered, pressing another peck to paul's lips.

"five minutes never hurt anyone." he whispered back, making you laugh. you knew five minutes would turn into an hour, but you didn't mind. getting to spend the mornings after with paul was probably your favorite part of you two's nightly sessions of lovemaking. the second round of aftercare was always the best.

"five more minutes." you repeated, leaning over and pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder.

you lived for mornings like this. curled up together, sharing soft kisses and hushed whispers, just lying in each other's embrace and acknowledging each other's presence. it made your heart feel warm and most of all, it made you feel loved. and that's all you've ever wanted. ☁️

© m00nkissedlover, 2024

[ifiguredyoudloveme]

Book Boy

timothée chalamet x female!reader

summary: ever since timothée saw you at the store, he hasn't been able to stop thinking about you. once he finally sees you again walking down the street, he can't help but ask for your number.

warnings/tags: 18+, nsfw, sub!timmy, dom!reader, bondage, p in v, oral (m receiving), cum swallowing, cum makeout (?), dirty talk, use of the word mommy

words: 3,198

a/n: i haven't posted in so long but timmy's look as marty sparked some very ungodly thoughts and i just had to write something. (this is far longer than i intended it to be.)

Timothée wanders into his favourite book store one rainy afternoon, searching for something romantic, and well...sexual. He feels like he's being spied on as he skims through the romance section, looking behind his shoulder as if anyone knows, or cares, what he's searching for.

Upon walking in he was greeted by the store owner – an older, chubby man with a large, grey moustache – and asked whether he needs help finding anything, to which Timothée replied, “Just browsing, thank you,” in a tone far higher pitched than he was going for.

He pulls out a book from the shelf and flips it around, skimming through the blurb on the back. His eyes widen, and he quickly hides it in his jacket. He nearly jumps out of his skin when a girl speaks over his shoulder.

“I've read that one,” she says in a friendly, innocent tone. “Oh, shit. Didn't mean to scare you,” she giggles.

Timothée turns around to face her, the book still hidden in his jacket. “What one?” He asks stupidly.

She giggles again, pointing at his jacket. “The book hidden in your jacket..?” She crosses her arms. “You're not planning on stealing that, are you?”

“Oh, this?” He says, pulling the book out. “Of course not.”

“Good,” she smiles, and turns her attention back to the shelves.

Timothée stands next to her awkwardly for a moment, swaying back and forth on his feet.

“Is it good?” He asks, voice cracking. He fakes a cough into the back of his hand.

She turns back to face him, her eyes looking into his with a glint of something he can't quite place. “I guess it depends what you're into.”

Timothée gulps. “Okay. I'll– I'll get it,” he croaks, before turning and walking back towards the front of the store. He places the book in front of the kind man and he gives Timothée a knowing smile before placing the book into a brown bag. He quickly hands the man some cash and rushes out of the store.

That night, Timothée lays on his bed, stomach down, and reads the book. The first page alone is a sex scene, and he's already humping his mattress. He can't help but imagine the woman in the story is the woman he saw in the bookstore and the man is himself.

The man gripped her breast lightly, so as not to hurt her, and teased at her soft clit with the tip of his tongue.

He imagines her reading this and his hips speed up.

She arched her back from the bed, the warmth from his mouth too much to bear. But only when his finger slid inside of her did her breathing halt and her body convulse, the eruption of orgasm flowing through her and out of her as a moan.

He cums, shaking, his face buried in the pages, the scent of aged paper filling his senses. He wonders if this is the exact copy she borrowed.

Out of it, he throws the book at the wall. The book itself is unarousing, he realises. Far too formal. He'll return it tomorrow.

Later, after cleaning himself up, he walks outside on the balcony of his apartment and lights a cigarette. Leaning on the railing, he watches the bustling street below, still erupting with life despite midnight.

That's when he sees her – in the same outfit, only with a jacket this time, wandering on the other side of the street. He immediately opens his mouth to call out for her but realises he doesn't even know her name.

So, he bolts inside, grabs his own jacket, and rushes out the door, making his way down the windy stairs and finally, into the night. He looks around frantically before spotting her again, turning right at the end of the street. He runs.

Once he's in front of her, walking backwards, he can hardly catch his breath. She looks at him with that same adorable smile.

“Book boy,” she says, pointing at him.

“Yep,” he responds, adjusting his glasses. “I saw you from my apartment and I—”

“Did you read the book?” She interrupts, that same glint in her eyes again.

Timothée gulps. “Uh, yeah. A little.”

She teases her bottom lip with her tongue, then stops walking. They stand still for a moment, facing each other, before she takes a step forward. She's so close to him he can feel her soft breaths against his face.

“Were you thinking about me when you did?”

Timothée's jaw goes slack. He can only nod. She smiles, then steps back. She fiddles through her purse for a pen, the takes Timothée's hand in hers and scribbles her number onto his palm, and under it, her name.

Then, she walks off into the night.

Timothée reaches out, goes to call her name, but decides against it. He turns, smiles, and walks back to his apartment.

In the morning, after writing her number and name from his palm onto a sticky note then drifting off to sleep, he immediately calls her number.

Sitting on the edge of his bed, naked, chewing at his fingernails, he waits for her voice. The call connects after three rings and he almost drops his phone in nervousness.

“Hello?” she says politely.

“Uh, y/n? It’s me…” he’s about to say his name but realises she doesn’t know it, “...book boy.”

“Oh!” she exclaims. “You called.”

“Of course.” He stands and starts to pace around his room, a smile growing on his face. “I was, uh– I was wondering if you’d like to meet for coffee today. At noon.”

“That would be lovely,” she agrees. “I’ll come over to yours.”

“Oh, but I—”

“Shh,” she giggles. “I know where you live – don’t think I didn’t see you on your balcony.”

Timothée clears his throat. “Alright, that…that sounds good. I'm in number 106. However my apartment is quite small and in a mess—”

“So is mine,” she says.

“Okay, good,” he replies, cringing at his response. “So…noon?”

“I'll be there. Bye!”

The call ends and Timothée lets out a deep breath he didn't realise he was holding. He checks the clock on the wall. Eleven a.m., it reads. His heart jumps; he hadn't realised he'd woken up so late.

He rushes into the bathroom and runs the shower before grabbing his toothbrush and squeezing a generous amount of toothpaste onto it. He scrubs his teeth and hops into the shower, the warm water temporarily calming his nerves.

Leaning his head back, the water wets his hair and he scrubs a thick lather of shampoo into it. He smiles as he imagines his hands are hers, massaging his scalp, and he almost starts purring like a cat. He shakes his head and wrinkles his nose, embarrassed by himself, and takes his hands off his head in shame.

Once he's done, he dries his hair vigorously with a towel before sprinting into his closet and fetching his nicest suit. He pulls on his clothes and nearly trips while putting his pants on, then rushes into the bathroom to do something about his hair. It looks ridiculous, all spiked and wet, so he picks up a comb and combs it into a somewhat presentable style.

He places his hands on his hips and stares at himself in the mirror loathingly. The doorbell rings, and he nearly jumps out of his skin.

Breathing deeply, he steps out of the bathroom and walks to the front door. He lifts his hand to the handle, takes a deep breath, and opens the door.

All his nerves go away the moment he sees her, and all he can think about is how beautiful she looks. Her hair is tucked behind her ears with white hair clips, and she wears a beautiful silk light blue dress paired with white gloves and white heels.

“Wow,” is all Timothée can say, and y/n grins widely.

He moves out of the way for her and she steps inside, her heels clicking against the wooden floorboards. She looks around the place as he closes the door.

“It's lovely,” she says. “I expected piles of trash and inches of dust but this…” she runs her hand along his red sofa, “...is gorgeous.”

Timothée scratches his cheek. “Well, thank you, I– it's home,” he smiles. “Coffee?”

“Yes, please,” she says, sitting on the couch and crossing her legs. “I have three sugars with mine, if that’s alright. I have a sweet tooth.”

Timothée nods as he brews the espresso. “So do I,” he says flirtatiously. He has no idea where his sudden confidence has come from. Catching on, she blushes.

After he's made their coffee, he places them on the coffee table and sits beside her. Being so close to her zaps most of his confidence away, and he falls shy again.

She picks up the mug and takes a sip, moaning at the flavour. Timothée gulps. “This is great, thank you,” she smiles, before leaning over and planting a kiss on his cheek. He nearly has a heart attack.

“Are you going to drink yours?”

“No, I don't– I don't like coffee.”

She gives him a funny look and laughs. “So why'd you make yourself one?”

“I'm not sure,” he replies honestly, shrugging his shoulders. She laughs harder, and he laughs along with her.

Once they stop laughing, she places her coffee down and leans back, facing her body towards him.

“I like your glasses,” she says.

Timothée feels insecure at this. He's only ever been made fun of for them.

“Really? You'd be the first,” he says self-deprecatingly.

“What do you mean?” she asks genuinely. She reaches out and places her hand on the side of his face, lightly swiping her thumb under the thin metal. “They're very attractive.”

He bites his lip and looks at his lap. “You think so?”

“I do,” she replies sweetly, leaning back again.

She observes him once again. He feels exposed, as if she knows all of his secrets, as if she can read his mind. If she could, she'd know how desperately he wants to reach over and kiss her, run his hand over her smooth thighs…

…his cock begins to harden.

“You're drooling,” she says.

He chokes on his own spit and coughs into his arm. “Pardon?”

Laughing, she leans her elbow utop the back of the couch and rests her head in the palm of her hand. “You're not very good at hiding it, you know. You wear what you're thinking in your eyes.”

“Do I?” he asks, eyebrows raised.

“Mhm,” she hums with a nod, picking up her mug. She looks into his eyes as she takes a slow sip, then places it down again.

Picking up his own mug, he attempts to repeat her actions but gags the second the lukewarm dirtmilk – as he calls it – hits his tongue. He shakes his head and wrinkles his nose, placing the mug back down. She laughs again, her hand gripping his shoulder.

They sit in a comfortable silence for a moment while she finishes her drink. Timothée can't help but look at her – her gorgeous face, the way the silk of her dress hugs her body, her smooth legs – and undress her with his eyes. He thinks back to the book that now lays on the floor of his bedroom and how, just last night, he was breathing into it in orgasm, thinking of her.

She places her mug down, empty, and as if on queue, says: “Where’s that book?”

Timothée shakes his head, stumbling out of his explicit thoughts. “Hm?”

“The book you bought yesterday. Where is it?”

“Oh, I– shall I get it?”

She nods, so he stands, striding to his room. He retrieves the book from the ground and inspects the mark that throwing it had left on the wall, before returning to the living room.

He hands the book to her quickly, shyly, and sits back down. He watches her as she pulls off her gloves and flips to a very specific page, twenty-three, and hands the book back to him.

Taking it from her curiously, his eyes meet the page and his heart immediately beats at a faster pace. He looks at her with wide eyes. She only smiles, innocent.

“Read it,” she whispers.

So he does.

“‘The woman—” he croaks. “‘The woman sunk down onto his cock. The tight– The tight soft walls of her cunt encased him wholly and he tried, through the ropes tight around his wrists, to reach out and touch. Muffled moans through the gag in his mouth signified something he had tried so desperately to shove away; that he was hers, but she was not his. Lust given into to the shame of God. A forbidden love. The—’”

Timothée's breathing quickens as she crawls over and straddles him, her soft lips against the side of his neck. He holds the book in his right hand and wraps his other around her waist, not taking his eyes off the page.

“‘The bondage rubbed against his skin painfully and he hoped that it left permanent marking, a reminder of this night, forever. Fuck God, he thought. What a horrible thing to think. He should be slapped. Smack! Her hand against his cheek as if she'd read his mind. What a rewarding thing to think.’”

Her lips connect to his and he drops the book. His eyes close. He drinks her in, his hands running up the back of her thighs, her ass, her back, pulling her dress up as he goes. Their lips part for only a moment as he pulls her dress over her head and onto the floor, then their tongues find each other again. She pulls off his jacket and unbuttons his dress shirt, discarding them somewhere.

Before his hands can touch her skin again, she grabs onto his wrists and pins them over his head. She smiles against his mouth then pulls away, her hand falling from his wrists to his belt. Timothée makes sure he doesn't move his arms. She frees the belt and crawls off of his lap then instructs him to face away from her with his hands behind his back. He does so without a second thought, as if by nature.

After tying the belt around his wrists securely she asks him to sit back down, and of course, he does so immediately. It's as if he's in a trance, willing to do anything and everything for a woman he only just met. She could demand he lick the ground that she walks on and he would, happily, oblige.

As she gets on her knees in front of him and begins unbuttoning his pants, he stares at her like an obedient puppy, waiting for a treat. She grips the waistband and pulls them down. In his hurry, he'd forgotten to put any underwear on – she grins up at him, delighted.

A shuddery breath escapes his lungs and his fingers flex in their restraints as she grips the base of his cock and licks at the head, lapping up his sticky wetness. He's fully hard – painfully hard – and the tip of his cock is a deep reddish purple.

“Oh, fuck me,” he groans as she, without warning, swallows him down to the hilt. He leans his head back and his back arches and he wants, desperately, to free his hands and run them through her pretty hair. His forehead, neck, and chest are already glistening with sweat, his abs flexing and rippling as his tip repeatedly hits the back of her warm, wet throat.

The sounds of spit and soft gagging fill the room and he has to bite his bottom lip to stop himself from cumming. Spit dribbles down and coats his balls, pooling under them. He gets close, too close, and impulsively places his foot on her shoulder to nudge her away. She falls softly on her ass and his cock springs free with a pop, slapping lewdly against his stomach.

His muscles relax, and he feels like he can breathe again.

“Was it too much?” she asks, crawling onto the couch beside him, snuggling into his shoulder.

“‘m sorry, y/n,” he says quietly. He almost called her mommy. “I was so close.”

His brain feels mushy. He doesn't know what it is, but he likes it.

She connects her soft lips to his and wraps her hand lightly around his cock, stroking it up and down rhythmically. Their tongues dance together and Timothée moans in both arousal and contentment.

“Are you ready to feel my pussy, baby?” she asks after pulling away from his lips and standing, towering over him. He can only nod, unable to speak.

She reaches behind her back and unhooks her white lace bra, dropping it onto the floor. Her tits are perfect and plush and a line of spit trickles down Timothée's chin. He's actually drooling.

Then, she hooks her thumbs through the waistband of her panties – white and lacey like her bra – and pulls them down, stepping out of them. He stares at her pussy that's covered in a neat blanket of hair and whines, a somehow deeper hunger erupting through him.

“You like what you see?” she asks, smiling, and he nods quickly.

Straddling him again, she grabs his face and kisses him deeply. His cock throbs pathetically between them and she grabs it, sliding his length between the lips of her wet pussy.

He struggles in his restraints. “Please, I need—”

“You need what?”

“Need to feel you, please—”

With that, she sinks down onto his cock, his length filling her up like a hand in a glove, a perfect fit. His eyes roll to the back of his head and he bucks his hips upward without meaning to, letting out a desperate, guttural groan.

She rides him, her hands in his hair and her head thrown back in pleasure, the speed of her hips increasing by the second.

She leans down and kisses his lips repeatedly. “You're so fucking big, baby. So fucking big. Gonna make me cum. Gonna make mommy cum.”

The way she called herself mommy almost makes Timothée faint. His hair sticks to his forehead with sweat and he doubts he can hold on for any longer, his orgasm being drawn closer and closer as her warmth tightens around him. He can almost see stars.

“Fuck, fuck! I'm cumming, I'm–”

She quickly climbs off of him and ends up on her knees again, jerking him off, his tip on her tongue. His vision goes black, his entire body tenses, and he releases, coating her tongue in sticky white mess.

Once he finishes, and before he knows what's happening, she connects their lips, swirling her tongue around his. His own tongue is now covered in his cum as they make out, exchanging a concoction of spit and release.

Their lips disconnect after a moment and she collapses onto his shoulder, their chests rising and falling. His own cum is dripping down his chin. He swallows.

“A forbidden love,” she whispers.

It's only one in the afternoon, and she doesn't even know his name.

[starlightsuffered]

Be Professional (Part One)

Warnings - name calling, hate sex, thigh riding, light choking, denial of orgasm mentioned, disobeying, cocky

Timmy

Pairing - Timothée Chalamet/Fem!Reader

"Working with Timothée has been so awesome," I lied through my teeth.

"She's very talented," Timothée interjected.

"That's so sweet," | replied.

"Wow," the interviewer said. "The chemistry between you two is crazy! I'm so happy you all got along so well."

We nodded pleasantly. I could not wait to be done with this interviewer, who seemed dead set on seeing me and Chalamet as a couple.

I had disliked him from day one on set. I'd overheard him asking the director why an amateur like me had such a large roll in the movie.

I'd walked straight up to him and said,"because l've actually got talent, unlike some people who rely on celebrity connections and good jawlines." He'd looked stunned at the time, but later he came over to me in the food line and said, "So, you think I have a good jawline?"

He'd continued to tease me, l'd continued to loath him. He couldn't act professional to save his life. I suppose he didn't have to, with how popular he was, there was no way he was getting tossed off a set. It made me furious.

"So y/n, this is your first movie. However, your costar Timothée has many parts under his belt, would you care to tell us your favorite?"

"Um," I was nervous. I didn't know any of his movies, all I knew is I wanted to smack the smirk off his face. To anyone but me and the crew, it would seem like an encouraging smile, but we knew better. Timothée and I had been reprimanded time and time again for our "petty squabbles" as the director put it.

"I mean, how can you pick," I said with feigned laughter. "They're all masterpieces."

"Wow, y/n, thank you so much," Timothée said with mock gratitude that the interviewer couldn't clock.

"I think that about wraps up all the time we have for today. It was a pleasure to meet you all."

I was more than happy to leave. I grabbed my purse, and was ready to go back to my trailer.

"Y/N, could I see you in my trailer for a moment?" Timothée asked.

"No thanks," I said, but then that fucking interviewer had to stick her nose into things.

"Oh my goodness! Secret costar gossip in the trailer!" She squealed. "I'm so putting this on the site."

Shit. Now I had to go. There was no way l'm risking my reputation for this. I decided to put on a smile and play along. I took Timothée's out stretched hand and followed him to his trailer.

"So you don't know any of my movies huh?" He crossed his arms and smirked.

"Does that bother your fragile little ego, that not everyone cares about your film history," I chuckled.

"No, but it bothers me that you don't," he said, taking a step closer. I preferred fighting with him at a distance, up close it was undeniable that he was the most beautiful person l'd ever seen.

"You want everyone to have you on their mind 24/7," I scoffed.

"Maybe I do want that from you. What are you going to do about it?" He demanded.

I yanked him to me, crashing my lips against his. At first I told myself it was to shock him, so that l'd finally have the upper hand, but then it started to feel good. His lips were perfectly slotted against mine as he kissed me with a hunger I'd never experienced.

His hand went to my neck, applying gently pressure as he sucked on my lip. I couldn't help but groan and he let out a dark chuckle.

"So speechless now," he cooed.

"Shut the fuck up," I growled, yanking on his hair to get his lips back on mine. I put all my anger and frustration into the kiss. I hoped he felt it. Why in the world was this so hot? Why did it feel like I was being consumed by a fire.

I gasped as his hands went under my top. He grabbed handfuls of my breasts, kneading expertly. He pulled his hands out and began undoing the buttons on my shirt. I was panting with need as he continued. As soon as he had it off he was removing my bra as well, and for some ungodly reason, I was letting him.

He dipped his head, capturing my nipples between his lips. I cried out at the feeling. A large hand came up and closed over my mouth. He knew people would be around, possibly even that interviewer.

"Shit Chalamet, your really know your stuff," I said, begrudgingly giving him a compliment. He popped off my nipple, and began pulling down my pants. I couldn't help but notice that he was still fully clothed. What was his angle? Was he trying to embarrass me? I couldn't help but not care as his fingers went into my panties.

"Well ook what we have here," he gloated as he pulled his fingers out. They were covered in my slick.

"My, my, someone sure is wet, I wonder what that is from?" he tutted. I wanted to smack him.

"Why aren't you naked," I snapped.

"Why would I be naked?" He asked with mock surprise.

"Aren't we going to.. you know?" I suddenly felt very embarrassed.

"Y/N," he said, putting a hand to his heart. "Fucking in my trailer? That wouldn't be very professional," he scolded, using my frequently said phrase.

"What?!" I could have cried from how frustrated I was.

"Maybe, sometime, I'll take you somewhere where it's appropriate to fuck someone's brains out, but for now," he went to get a chair. He sat on it, and patted his thigh.

"You've got to be kidding me."

"I'm very serious, just like you've always wanted me to be."

"And how is this professional," I snarled.

"You're just sitting on a coworkers lap," he shrugged. "After all, we're suuuuuch close friends, right?"

"I hate you," I said as I positioned myself on his thigh.

"I know, that's why this is so fun," he chuckled.

I began to rub myself on his jean clad thigh, needing release. His fingers went to my nipples, and his green orbs were glued to the wet patch I was creating on his pants.

"Could you at least," I tried to get the words out without moaning. "Move your leg?"

"Beg," he demanded, and I stopped moving all together.

"What did you just say to me?"

"Beg me," he said again. I stayed still, there was no way in Hell I'd beg him. When it looked like I was going to stand firm, Timothée reached down. He put pressure on my clit rubbing it fast.

"Holy shit!" I cried, and then the feeling was gone. He'd stopped, knowing how it would feel to lose that contact.

I had tears in my eyes from the denied release. I needed to come so badly that it hurt.

"Please," I whispered.

"Please what?" He smirked.

"Please, help me come," I whimpered.

"Why of course," he obliged, and began bouncing his leg while I rode his thigh. It felt amazing.

"There you go," he crooned. "Look at you, so helpless. You're getting a stain on my pants. Do you know how much those cost?"

"Fucking, entitled, egotistical, prick," | gasped as I continued to ride, he just laughed.

"I'm close," I warned.

"Say my name when you come," he ordered, but I was determined to be infuriating. The bulge in his pants was the only thing that proved to me that this was affecting him at all.

"Chalamet," | gasped as I came undone. He stilled his leg, but I continued to move through my orgasm.

When I finally came down, I was happy to see a scowl on his face. He bent down to grab my clothing, and shoved them in my arms.

"Get dressed. I do NOT like being disobeyed. Some time I'm going to take you to somewhere, and I'll have you screaming my name."

"Sure you will," I said as I got dressed.

[isaacarellanesismyhusband]

okay… okay, i’ll take a break

pair: Timothée Chalamet x reader

requested by @pmak2002

Timothee gets stressed out from moving from one movie to another and eventually he gets super sick and stressed out and reader has to convince him to take a break so she can care for him so he can return to the work he loves once he feels better

masterlist | navigation

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Timothée was running himself ragged. Jumping from one movie set to another, barely stopping to breathe, let alone sleep. You could see the exhaustion etched in his features every time he came home. Dark circles under his eyes, pale skin, and a slight cough that had gotten worse over the past few days.

“Timmy, you need to slow down,” you said softly as he collapsed onto the couch one evening, barely able to keep his eyes open. He waved you off like he always did.

“I’m fine, just tired. Gotta be back on set tomorrow morning,” he muttered, rubbing his forehead.

“No, you’re not fine,” you insisted, kneeling in front of him and placing a hand on his knee. “You’re sick, and you’re burning yourself out. You can’t keep going like this.”

Timothée groaned and leaned back into the couch, closing his eyes. “I don’t have a choice. The schedule’s tight, and they’re counting on me.”

You sighed, trying to think of how to make him see that pushing himself this hard wasn’t going to help anyone. You reached out and pressed your hand against his forehead, frowning at how warm he felt. “You’re burning up. You’re sick, and if you don’t rest, it’s going to get worse.”

He opened his eyes and looked at you, a flicker of guilt crossing his face. “I know, but… I just don’t want to let anyone down.”

“You won’t,” you said firmly. “But you can’t work when you’re this sick, Timmy. Please, take a break. Let me take care of you. Just for a couple of days. Then you’ll feel better, and you can get back to what you love without pushing yourself to the edge.”

He hesitated, but the exhaustion in his eyes told you he knew you were right. After a long pause, he sighed heavily and nodded. “Okay… okay, I’ll take a break.”

You gave him a small, relieved smile and gently pulled him to his feet. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

Over the next few days, you did everything you could to make sure Timothée rested. You made him soup, brought him medicine, and forced him to stay in bed when he tried to get up and do something. Slowly but surely, he started to get better. His cough faded, the fever broke, and his energy started to return.

One morning, as you sat beside him, he reached for your hand. “Thank you,” he said softly, his voice no longer strained with fatigue. “I wouldn’t have stopped if you hadn’t made me.”

You smiled and squeezed his hand. “You don’t have to thank me. I just want you to be okay.”

“I know,” he murmured, brushing a thumb across your knuckles. “I’m lucky to have you.”

“And I’m lucky to have you,” you replied with a gentle smile. “Just promise me you’ll take care of yourself a little more, okay?”

Timothée nodded, giving you a tired but genuine smile. “I promise.”

[cannibalistickitty]

silly lee hc's !!!

౨ৎ lee who buys you funky cheap jewelry from thrift shops,,,

౨ৎ lee who wears silly socks, he loves buying matching pairs for y'all

౨ৎ lee who likes nothing on his pizza!! he likes a classic marinara

౨ৎ lee who's the cutest when he's listening to literally any songs that he likes, he tries to dance but he's not very good at it😭

౨ৎ lee who desperately wants a dog!!! he loves big dogs soso much:(

౨ৎ lee who takes you on late night drives, he just put on an album and then talks with you while driving around

౨ৎ lee who basically worships you, he treats you like a princess because ur his princess!!^_^

[noodleslugworth]

Absolutely NO minors

Headcanon that Willy Wonka likes to be choked

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

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

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

Just Willy and choking ❤️

(By @palettesofrenaissance)

EDIT: we now have a Tumblr Community for adult fans! Contact me at @noodleslugworth for more info and invite

[camatchoum]

Not so dramatic, after all

Willy Wonka x reader

Request : Hi I have a request for a wonkaxreader!! Could the reader really be into theatre like all they ever want to do is perform but once they get an audition and it goes horrible and they are crushed?? @macmonster09

Summary : You have your biggest audition today for a play that you love, but you are incredibly nervous. A certain chocolatier tries to help you with that, but it's doesn't really go well.

Words : 4.0k

Warnings: angst, fluff.

My masterlist

Today is the day. Today, you have THE big audition. The one that is going to change your life forever.

Since you are a little kid, you want to work in theatres. Your grandpa took you to see Romeo and Juliet when you were only five, and from that moment, you knew you wanted this to be your life. He always used to say that he knew Shakespeare. He was one of his best friends. When you were little, you believed him, but as you got older, you knew he was kidding, but you always laughed. You loved your grandpa so much, and you thank him every day for giving you the love of the theatre. You hope that one day he will watch you perform on the biggest stage of the world. You know he is not there anymore, not on earth anyway, but you always thought that he was watching you from the stars.

Today, you have an audition for the new play of your town's theatre : Romeo and Juliet. You were always too afraid to actually go to an audition. Well, you always walk to the theatre but then get back home at the last minute. But when you saw the title, you knew it was a sign from your grandpa. You had to pass the audition this time.

You are on your way to the audition. You are incredibly nervous. You have a strong grip on your bag as you are running. It is snowing outside, so normally you would have walked to be careful. But you were so overwhelmed with stress that you got out of your house late. So now you have to run.

You run inside the Galaries Gourmet, the theatre being on the other side. You curse when you see all the people in the way, and they don't seem to be moving. You try to slip through the crowd, repeating sorry's without caring if the person you push actually heard you. You need to go on the other side. You are moving forward with your goal, the only thing going on in your mind.

It was really the only thing you could think of because you didn't see a cane going right into your chest, causing you to fall with a scream. The man with the cane immediately stops what he is saying with a gasp and goes at your rescue.

"Oh no, I'm so sorry. Miss, are you okay?" The man asks you as you try to stand up again, but you slip and end into his arms. When you look up, you see that this man is probably your age, with curly brown hair beneath is high hat. He also wears a big purple coat. That is an interesting choice of colour. You blink when you see the man's lips move.

"I-I'm sorry what?" You stutter, and you can feel your cheeks burning. You are clearly embarrassed, and on top of that, this man is really good-looking. You are afraid you were passing for a dumb girl, but he only chuckles.

"I asked you if you were okay? I'm sorry I didn't see that you were in the way. I should be more careful with the cane." He says sweetly before he looks at you, and his eyes widen. He immediately let you go, and you can see his cheeks turn a little bit red. "I-I-I'm sorry it was just a re-reflex." He stutters too, thinking he was in the wrong here.

"No, don't worry about it. If you didn't catch me, I would have probably fallen again, so I'm actually glad you did it." You day, causing him to smile. "Thank you..."

"OH, I'm Willy Wonka, chocolatier. Would you like to try some..."

"I'm Y/n. I would love to but I don't have this kind of money." You say sadly.

"Nonsense miss Y/n. This one is free." He hands you a chocolate. You are about to take it when you remember a tiny detail. Your eyes widen.

"Oh my god, I need to go." You take your bag that was still on the floor before you start to run.

"Wait! You forgot to taste my chocolate!" You hear Willy Wonka scream before you see him running right next to you.

"I'm sorry, I really need to go." You don't stop running, Willy, neither.

"Where are you going?"

"I have an important audition today at the theatre, and I'm already late. I'm so nervous I could puke right now."

"I have the best thing to give you for that." Willy says with his eyes full of joy.

"What is it?"

"Can we stop running first. I'm not exactly an athletic guy."

You decide to stop. You aren't an athlete anyway, so that is actually better. You both catch your breath before looking at each other. You are both taking big breaths. This made you both chuckle.

"Ok, so what is it? An advice?" You ask.

"I have much better." He says so excited. He takes his suitcase and opens it. You see a lot of colourful vials that seem to have something special inside each of them. You watch as he starts to mix the content of a few vials before he pushes on a few buttons. His suitcase starts to make a lot of weird noises. You are wondering if this is a good idea. What if he is trying to poison you? Maybe you should escape while he wasn't looking. You still have to go after all, and you don't want to die.

But before you could think about getting away anymore, Willy stands up with a big smile. You think it can reach the stars.

"I present to you the Never Sad Chocolate. I'll find a better name later. A chocolate with a drop of a double rainbow, a point of glitter because glitters make you happy. And just a heart full of Belgian milk chocolate because chocolate alone makes you happy." He says with such excitement while putting the famous chocolate in your hand. "I promise you that you'll couldn't even think of being sad after eating this."

You eye him suspiciously, but his eyes are so full of light that you decide to eat it. You pop the chocolate in your mouth, and it is ultra delicious. You can feel happiness flow inside your veins and full filling your heart. And before you know it, the corners of your lips start to go up. You are smiling so much that it hurts. It's like all your stress washed away.

"Oh my god, that's so good. I feel so good." You say with excitement too. "Thank you so much, Mr Wonka."

"Please, call me Willy. And it was nothing, really. I'm happy you appreciate it."

"Well, I still have to hurry, so I should go now. But thank you so much, I feel so happy!!!!" You beam causing Willy to chuckle. You start to walk in the direction of the theatre.

"Come tell me how it happened!" Willy calls to you.

"Promise!" You scream back.

With your new confidence, you walk with determination to your audition. You are going to break it. When you arrive, you tell your name to the woman at the front desk and then wait for your turn. You aren't feeling anywhere near nervous at the moment. You are just patiently waiting, rehearsing in your head how you are going to act and all.

"Y/n Y/l/n" a woman calls out your name. You stand up and walk to the centre of the stage before looking at the three judges before you. "We are ready to see what you have to show us." The woman says. "Good luck."

You thank her before going to your position. You start to act one of the happy scenes in Romeo and Juliet. You are doing really well. The judges are impressed with the way you act and the way you adapted the role to suit yourself. They think that you are a one of kind artist who could mesmerised the audience. They are all falling for your charms. When you finish the scene, you are proud of yourself. Proud for doing it. You hope your grandpa would be proud of you. You turn to hear what the judges have to say.

"That was the best audition I ever saw in my entire life, Miss Y/l/n. Your smile is so contagious that we couldn't stop smiling." A judge says. You are so happy right now.

"Thank you so much." You answer.

"We would like to see you act a sad scene because this role doesn't only represent the happy side of the story. Whichever you would like. We really want to see the tears and the desperation on your face. Got it?" Another judge says.

"Okay no problem."

You go back in position. You started to think about sad things. Normally, it helps a lot when you want to make tears, but right now, it's like you can't even think of one bad thing in your life. You push this aside. It's okay, you tell yourself. You start to act, trying to put as much sadness in your voice. You try to transfer your desperation to the judges, but all that is escaping your mouth is a joyful voice. The lines are sad, but the way you act, it's like you couldn't even care. You try again and again, and again, before taking your hands, putting them on your cheeks to try to stop smiling. You can't. You just can't. Every time you push your cheeks down, they go up immediately. You can't stop smiling.

The judges are starting to eye you like you are a weirdo. One of them starts to cough a little to stop the awkwardness of the situation.

"I think we are going to stop here, miss Y/l/n." One of the judges says. "I'm sorry, but if you are not capable of acting on a sad scene, then we can not give you the role."

"I agree with him. Your happiness was really beautiful to watch, but this one scene. That was a disaster." The second one says.

"Yeah, try to work on this part, but right now, we can't accept this." The third one finishes.

You are still smiling. Of course you are. You say a small thank you before you grab your bag and run out. As you are walking to the Gallerie Gourmet, you feel your cheeks going down. The tears finally start to fall. Why now?! You don't know what happened. You know how to act sadness, you've done it a lot of times in your room. What you don't know is why you just couldn't stop smiling. Of course, they wouldn't give you the part with the way you acted like you were living in the ocean with a beautiful mermaid tail. It was like you were having a glittery rainbow spilling out of you.

A rainbow... with glitters... a felling of cosiness only brought by chocolate...

I promise you that you can't even think of being sad after eating this.

Willy the freaking chocolatier Wonka.

When the realisation hit you, you arrive inside the Galeries Gourmet. You can see a crowd from where you are and you know exactly who is at the centre of it. You walk angrily to the curly boy before you tap on his shoulder, causing him to turn around.

"Y/n!!! How did it go?" Willy asks with excitement. He knows it was something important to you. But his smile drops when he looks into your eyes. Don't get him wrong, when he met you earlier, he was mesmerised by the beauty of them. But right now, when he looks into these two perfect diamonds, all he can see are puffy red eyes full of tears.

"Not so well if you want to know." You answer him angrily.

"Oh. Why is that? My chocolate didn't work?" He stretches his neck. He is a little uncomfortable with the way you are talking to him. It is like it is his fault that something went wrong.

"This. Is. Your. Fault!" You stab him in his chest with your finger.

"What?! How?!" He exclaims. He doesn't want to be the reason for your pretty face to be angry. Wait, what?

"This is all because of your stupid chocolate! I couldn't even act like I was sad!"

"Oh, so it did work. I was afraid for a moment that I had to review the recipe of this one. So that's great, actually? I told you you couldn't be sad because of it." He says with a smile. You calm down immediately. He is so innocent you don't even know why you are trying to yell at him.

"Yeah, well, think for a moment. If I can't act sadness, how can I get a role where you have to be sad from time to time?" You take your bag before leaving in the direction of your house.

When he sees you leave, that's when it hits him. Willy didn't understand at first how the fact that his chocolate worked was the problem. But now he does. He feels so bad for ruining your audition. It must have been something really important to you from the way you are crying. When people begin to ask him for help to buy his chocolates, he is brought back but not really either. He is not this joyful man anymore. He is just a ghost. He can't stop thinking about you. Not that it changes really because when you left for your audition, you were all his mind could think of. He couldn't even think of chocolate, and THAT is new. He doesn't know how he is feeling with you, but he does know that he wants to see a smile on your face. He wants to be the one to put a smile on your face, not be the reason why you are so sad.

He decides from that moment that he is going to be the one who fixes everything. He first goes to the theater, then he goes in the direction he sees you leave. Yes, he left his travel shop like that, but not before he heard Noodle yelling at him to come back so she must know that he left and that she has to take care of it. He wants to run so that he has a better chance to catch you, but he stops at the fountain when he sees a curdle up figure. It is you. You are probably crying. He approaches quietly before sitting down next to you.

"What do you want?" You sob, breaking his heart.

"I want to say how sorry I am. I understand now how it is my fault that your audition didn't go well." You don't look up at him. "What's in your hand?" He asks when he sees you fidgeting with something.

"It's.. it's something from my grandpa." You hand it to him. He takes it.

"A ticket?"

"Yeah. Romeo and Juliet. It's the first play I ever saw. My grandpa took me with him, and I instantly fell in love with the theatre world. I passed the audition today for the same play to make my grandpa proud." You sob again. You take the ticket back from his hands. "I guess he will not be proud of me after what happened."

"That's nonsense. I'm sure he will be proud of you at the end of the day."

"He will not. Don't you understand? This audition was my chance to do what I love for a living. It was my only opportunity to show people the beauty of theatre while doing the thing I love the most. It was my dream. My whole life is over now."

"My mom used to say that a dream is the start of great ideas. You can achieve anything if it starts with a dream." He says sweetly, a tiny smile on his face. He missed her so much.

"That's beautiful. She is very wise."

"Yeah, she was."

"I'm sorry. My grandpa used to say that he would watch me from the start when I broke the dramatic world." You chuckles sadly. This brought Willy back from the nostalgic place in his head. He smiles and stands up abruptly. You look up at him curiously.

"And you are going to break it today." He gives you his hand. "Come with me, I have a surprise for you."

"What do you mean?"

"Just trust me, please." You give him a look. "I know, the last time you trusted me, I ruined everything. But this time I promise you are going to love it." You ponder for a moment before you take his hand.

You both start to walk in the opposite way from your house, returning back to the Galeries Gourmet and the theatre. You feel your cheeks burning when you remember that his hand is still in yours. But you don't say anything in fear that he will take it back. Not so long after you arrive at the theatre and before going inside, Willy moves so that he is in front of you. From that moment, you can observe his green eyes. They are really pretty.

"What are we doing here?" You ask.

"I may or may not have convinced the judges to give you another chance." He answers with a giddy smile.

"You are kidding, right?" You begin to smile too. "They let you do that?"

"No. At first, no." He zones out a little. Like he was thinking how he was crushed when they said no to his request. "They didn't believe me. But, I gave them each the same chocolate that I gave you, and when they saw the effects from it, they decided that you deserved another chance."

"Oh my god. Thank you, thank you, thank you." You say with excitement and hug him. You can't stop smiling, and you are glad it's not from his chocolate this time.

"As much as I like this, we really need to go inside. I told them we would be back in five, and it's already been like twenty minutes." He really doesn't want to let you go. Having you in his arms brings him a new feeling that he already felt like it is intoxicating. But if he doesn't let you go right now, you will still be sad. He doesn't want that.

"Oh my god! Why didn't you tell me earlier?!" You scream with joy before you take his hand and go inside.

When you are inside, you fast walk until you are in front of the judges again. You both excuse yourselves for the wait. You give your bag to Willy before going on the stage while he goes sit on a red velvet seat behind the judges.

"So miss Y/l/n, here we go again." One of the judges starts to say with a smile. "We were all really impressed with your acting earlier. The happiness part, obviously."

"What he means is that we are very eager to watch you again." A second judge says. "Since Mr Wonka explained to us what happened, we want to see more of you."

"Thank you for this new chance. I appreciate it greatly." You say before you go into your world.

You prepare yourself, but the stress starts to eat you again. You open your eyes to see Willy giving you thumbs-up. You smile be he can see that you ate still nervous so he points to the ceiling. You are confused, but look anyway. What you see is a fake sky full of starts. The stars. Your grandpa. You look back at Willy with tears in your eyes. You aren't filling sadness but with happiness. Your grandpa is with you right now, taking all your stress with him.

And so you start to act the sad scene. You are fully crying but not to the point where nobody can hear what you are saying. To Willy's eyes, you are perfect. He is so enhanced with the way you move, the way you act, the way your lips move. If someone were to punch him in the face right now, he wouldn't even do something about it. He wouldn't move his eyes from your figure. He doesn't even know when it stops until he hears the judges applause. He immediately stands up and claps hard his hands, too. It's so hard that one of the judges coughs a little to make him stop. He excuses himself in embarrassment, but when he sees you chuckle, his smile doesn't go down. But right now he wants to hear the resulst. He feels like he can't contain his nervousness. He really wants you to get the part.

"I can say Miss Y/l/n that this is one of the best acting I ever saw. We really could feel the desperation and all the emotions."

"I think we can all agree that you are very talented and we can't pass that. We can't take the risk of having such talent getting away from the scenes."

"Miss Y/l/n, we have the pleasure to tell you that you got the part."

You are exploiting with joy. You start to cry happy tears again. You try to thank the judges, but nobody can understand what you are saying. And clearly, nobody cares. They all have an idea of how you must feel right now. You freaking got the main part in a Romeo and Juliet play!

You get off the stage to shake hands with the judges, thanking them again before you go to Willy. You both walk to the door, and right when you are outside, Willy takes you in his arms, spinning you around.

He can't contain his happiness and you neither. He finally puts you down but doesn't let you go out of his arms.

"I'm so proud of you! You were so perfect. You are so talented." He says with a big smile.

"Thank you. I couldn't have done it without you."

"You do know I'm the one that ruined it, right?" He says, and you both chuckles.

"Maybe at first. But you got out of your way to give me another chance. Nobody would have done that for me." You say, and he blushes slightly.

"When you'll become famous, I hope you'll remember me."

"I don't think I'll ever forget you." His heart stops for a moment.

"You'll come perform at my shop?" He looks into your sparkly eyes.

"Of course, it will be my favourite stage to perform on with the best public."

"I don't think I want to let you go."

"Then don't."

You take him back into your arms, not wanting to let go of him either. You want him to be in your life forever.

And that's when Willy knows that you are not getting away anytime soon. And he can't wait to pass all this time with you. He couldn't be happier. He wants you to be in his life forever.

--------

And that's it guys. Hope you enjoyed. I love the movie so much it is now one of my happy place I think.

[beaswifts]

mismatched - regulus black x gryffindor!reader

A/N: this is my first ever story so be prepared 💀💀

Warnings: none (i think!!)

Summary: Regulus and Y/N have been enemies ever since Regulus purposely tripped Y/N. They have been pranking eachother non-stop since that day. But what happens when they catch feelings for eachother? Will the slytherin boy and gryffindor girl confess on time? Or will it be too late?

(if anyone reads this i'll consider making a part II)

''I'm going to kill you Regulus Black.'' I said furiously while looking at him. He was siting down, grinning like an idiot. Regulus had done a prank on me.

He changed our tie colours, mine to green and his to red. ''Everyone kept eyeing me in class you know!'' I said to the boy who was suprisingly still grinning.

''Do you want your tie back?'' he said rather calmly, taking the red tie off. ''you're unbelievable.'' I said as I took my tie and gave him his. ''I hope you don't think this is over Black. I would watch my back if I were you.'' I said before walking back to the gryffindor table.

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

The next day I was eyeing the door, waiting for Regulus to come out since he suprissingly wasn't sitting at the slytherin table yet. ''What's up with her?'' Marlene asked Lily. ''Y/N has pulled a prank on Black.'' Lily answered. ''Prank? Have you been hanging around the marauders?'' Mary asked jokingly. ''Regulus pulled a prank on me yesterday. Hes just getting his revenge.'' I said with a grin.

Regulus then walked into the hall, with fiery red hair. Regulus then walked towards me, with an angry look on his face. ''Good morning Regulus. You're in the gryffindor spirit as I can see.'' I said with the same calm tone that Regulus used yesterday.

''Change it back.'' He said emotionless. ''Change what back?'' I said innocently. He rolled his eyes. ''By the way, your hair looks beautiful today, what products did you use?'' I said sarcastically. ''You're not funny Y/L/N.'' he said seriously.

''Fine i'll change it back.'' I said, grabbing my wand out of my pocket. ''But only if you go to hogsmeade with me this weekend.'' I added with a playfull smile. ''And why would I go to hogsmeade with you?'' he said, amused. ''You don't have to.'' I shrugged. ''Have fun with your red hair, Black.'' I added before putting my wand back into my pocket. ''Wait! Fine. I'll go to hogsmeade with you.'' he said annoyed. ''Great.'' I said with a smirk before changing his hair back.

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

The days before hogsmeade flew by. I was getting ready in my shared dorm. Lily, Mary and Marlene were going to hogsmeade together to have a girls day.

''I'm still mad you bailed on us to go on a date with Regulus Black.'' Marlene said jokingly. ''You'll live.'' I answered with a laugh. We all got ready and went to breakfast. After we ate breakfast Regulus came to the gryffindor table.

''Are you ready to go?'' He asked me. ''I thought you'd bail on me.'' I said sarcastically. ''I don't bail.'' he answered, matching my tone. I laughed and followed him out.

''What's your favourite colour?'' I asked Regulus on our walk to hogsmeade. ''Guess.'' he said playfully, ''Green?'' I said with a smirk. ''How'd you know?'' He asked with a fake shocked expression. ''Oh shut up!'' I said with a smile.

When we arrived at hogsmeade i immediately walked to the three broomsticks, Regulus following not far behind. ''You do know we have all day right?'' Regulus said after finally catching up with me. ''Come on.'' I said as I grabbed his hand and walk into the shop, pulling him in with me.

we sat down and ordered two butterbeer. ''Are you already regretting your choice of coming to hogsmeade with me?'' I smiled at him. ''I already regretted it the moment I said yes.'' he said jokingly.

Our drinks arived shortly after. We drank our butterbeers and talked a lot. After leaving the shop and going to many others we decided to go back to hogwarts.

''So Regulus, promise you won't trip me over again?'' I asked playfully, holding out my pinky. ''I guess.'' He answered with a grin, connecting our pinkies.

[liseytopia]

heyyy, just askin for a friend... can u make hc for timothée chalamet about moving in with him?

hi babeee<3 hope your day's been amazing! :3

𝗺𝗼𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝗻 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗰𝗮𝗻𝗼𝗻𝘀

— 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘩é𝘦 𝘤 .ᐟ

★ after you two had been dating for about two years, timothée suggested you moving into his house!

꩜ he did so while still being very subtle and willing to accept you saying no

★ of course you had said yes, you loved him more than anything and would love to be living in the same space as him!!

꩜ most definitely helped you unpack all of your things before you could tell him not to

★ SPOILED you with housewarming gifts n took you on shopping sprees to buy decor for the bedroom

꩜ if you were consistent on social media, you posted daily instagram stories on how the move-in process was going, obviously receiving tons of attention from your fans

★ he always made sure that you were comfortable living in the home with him, doing anything he needed to in order to make sure you were living your royalty life<3333

꩜ i could see him being a dog person n give your puppy the absolute world, but if you were a kitty parent, he would be happy to provide the best home for his baby!!

★ always left you little sticky notes when you woke up late n he was out. just small messages letting you know he was out doing something..

— you woke up and checked the time; a little past 10:30am. as you slowly arose from the blankets and sheets sprawled across the bed, morning light poured into the room outside. as you walked slowly down the stairs, a small, yellow slip of paper caught your eye from across the room on the kitchen island. you traced your steps to the counter, eyes scanning the words written in your boyfriend's handwriting, 'at the filming site, be home by 3' followed by a hand written heart.

꩜ threw some house parties with you (and clean up most of it afterwards, gentleman duties)

★ movie nights 24/7!!

꩜ trying different recipes to cook together, having fun regardless of whether or not the dish turns out delicious or burnt to a crisp</3

— the smell of a variety of spices filled the kitchen as you scrambled to the stove, laughing. "oh my gosh, timothée!" you yelled, inspecting the overcooked meat on the pan, stepping on spilled ingredients on your way over. "this isn't edible, babe," you looked back at him, who was watching with a hand on his hip. "looks just fine to me," he commented, eliciting a laugh from the both of you.

★ no matter what happens in the house, he's always and forever happy that you can be with him!!

© liseytopia 2024 : do not copy, translate, or steal my work.

masterlist

[roxygen22]

can i request any beautiful boy writing and thank you love your writing

Aww - thanks, anon! I can't believe I haven't written for Nic yet, so thanks for the nudge!

Context: Nic has been sober for a while and is holding down a steady job in the city, where he meets the reader.

<><><><><>

Bus Stop

"I have a crush on a stranger," you blurted out at dinner with your BFF. She stared at you like you had lost your mind. Maybe you had.

"Okaaaaay. Tell me about said...stranger," she replied slowly, skeptically.

"I take the same bus every day heading home from the office. Same bus. Same route. Same time. Every weekday. This cute guy - dark brown curls and cheekbones that could cut glass - always gets on two stops later and sits across from me. Every day except Wednesdays. Sometimes, if we happen to lock eyes when I look up, he'll nod and offer a closed-lipped smile. The looks have started to...linger. I've noticed that I have started to look forward to it."

At some point while narrating your story, your focus drifted off into the distance. When your eyes returned to your friend, she was grinning at you like a cheshire cat.

"Oof, you've got it bad."

"I know....," you groaned and dramatically dropped your forehead to your hands.

"What's the big deal? Ask him out." She shrugged nonchalantly.

You stared at her wide-eyed, jaw slack. "How?" You asked incredulously.

She laughed. "Start by asking his name. The rest should take care of itself."

<><><><><>

The following Monday was a federal holiday, so you wouldn't see the beautiful mystery boy again until Tuesday. The last hour of work crawled by at a torturous pace. At closing, you grabbed your coat and bolted out the door, determined to catch the bus on time. It dependably arrived at your stop like clockwork.

You sat in your usual spot, knee bouncing from nerves and excitement. Two stops later, a slew of people stepped onboard. With each unfamiliar face, you grew more and more disappointed until finally, the object of your affection appeared. He took his normal position across the way and down a few seats. He always looked so nice and put together in his button-down shirt and slacks.

You were eager to talk to him but didn't want to come off as a stalker, so you waited a couple of stops before scooting over to sit directly in front of him. Your movement caught his attention, prompting him to look up at you.

"Hi," you squeaked and froze as you locked eyes.

"Hi," he replied slowly, both confused and amused. He flashed a smile that frazzled you further.

"I- uh, I've seen you here almost every day for months. So this isn't like talking to a stranger. I, uh, don't usually make it a habit of talking to strangers. I've been wanting to meet you." You paused and caught your breath. "I'm [Y/N]." You stuck out your right hand to shake. Smooth, real smooth.

"Hi, [Y/N]." You felt electricity run through your fingertips as he took your hand in his. "I'm Nic."

"Nic," you breathed, holding his hand probably a little longer than a customary handshake. You weren't sure what to do next, except make a note that your BFF gives terrible advice.

He cleared his throat. "I- I've uh, noticed you, too. On the bus every day, I mean."

All you could do was blush.

"Getting off work for the day?" Nic asked as you settled back into your seat, nodding toward the laptop bag at your side.

"Yep, the daily grind. The best part is the bus ride home."

It was his turn to blush. He ducked his head down sheepishly. You were dismayed to look up and see your stop was next.

"This is my stop coming up. The day crept by while I waited to finally talk to you, but the ride blazed by once I did." You sadly half-smiled as you looked into his jade-hued eyes, while also admiring your own newly found confidence.

"Oh." You detected a hint of disappointment in Nic's voice. "If...hopefully this doesn't sound creepy...if you'd like, I can get off here, too, and walk with you. My stop is just the next one down," he offered.

Your heart beat rapidly - slightly wary since he was still effectively a stranger, but mostly exhilarated by the prospect of having more time with him. Your words failed, so you just nodded.

When the bus stopped, you both stood and walked toward the front. Nic stepped off first, then turned and offered his hand to help you down.

"Thanks," you responded, blushing at the gentlemanly gesture.

"Where to?" he asked as he shoved his hands in his coat pockets.

You froze as rationality hit you like a ton of bricks, finally realizing that you would be leading this guy, still essentially a stranger, to your apartment. No matter how much you liked him, that wasn't a smart move.

"Well, I...I," you stammered nervously. "I barely know you, so I'm not going to show you where I live. Not yet, no offense."

"None taken," Nic replied, holding his hands up in surrender.

"But I want to get to know you, and I don't want that to stop here. Want to duck in somewhere and grab a drink?"

"I- I don't drink." His brow furrowed, and his eyes cast downward slightly. "B-but I do eat!" he added. "Hungry? My treat."

You smiled and nodded, pointing at the diner across the street. "How about there? They make a mean cheeseburger and milkshake."

Nic grinned. "Works for me."

<><><><><>

Part 2

Masterlist

@croatianprincess @bluizh @jindongdongie @groovy-lady @pmak2002

[imnotoverlyobsessive]

Return to the Water

Chapter One: Like Blood in the Water

AO3 one two three four five six seven eight nine

We barely met, and still I cross the street to your door.— Vanessa Carlton, Hands on Me

Humans were dangerous. Human men were the most dangerous of them all.

Lea knew that. And they scared her, but, well… humans were fascinating, the men in particular.

Especially one specific man. She didn’t want to get any closer to him—or any other human, really—other than watching him on his boat from her place behind a rock.

It wasn’t just his legs that fascinated her (although for a mermaid such as herself, they were very interesting). It was everything about him. When he was on the boat, his chest was often bare, and she could see how flat it was, so unlike her own chest. His form was long and slender, also unlike her own body. He drank often, slender fingers wrapped around a bottle, and he seemed to enjoy inhaling on a small white stick, exhaling smoke. He had a mate, she rather thought, for he frequently grabbed at a girl with black hair and skin that was almost orange. That was fine; she just liked to observe him, watch his dark hair curl over his brow, hear his musical laugh. 

She watched him laugh and drink and smoke, her curls swirling around her like blood in the water.

In the early hours of the morning, before the sun had risen, he was alone on the deck, watching the waves and dancing along to music she couldn’t hear very well. 

Suddenly, out of nowhere, he turned around abruptly, but he was too close to the edge of the boat and couldn’t seem to keep his balance. He toppled overboard, hitting his head as he hurtled towards the dark water and hit it with a splash.

Lea’s breath caught, and she waited, watching to see if he’d come back up.

He didn’t.

He’ll die, she realized. No one else is here to help him. He will die.

She dove beneath the waves, her sapphire blue tail propelling her towards where the human was sinking deeper and deeper into the water.

How long could humans go without air? She didn’t know, but she didn’t want to risk it. Upon reaching him, she found he was infinitely more beautiful up close, even in the darkness of the water. 

Not taking the time to examine his features, she grabbed his arms and pulled him towards her. His hair swirled around his face as she leaned in to press her lips to his, exhaling into his mouth.

Within seconds, he took a deep, gulping breath, though he didn’t awaken.

She couldn’t get him back on his boat, but hopefully his mate would find him where she dragged him ashore.

Timothée came to slowly, the sound of the waves exacerbating the pounding in his head. Forcing himself up onto his hands, he examined the beach he was on. What had happened? Where was he? Where was Kylie? God, she’d be pissed if she woke up and he wasn’t in bed with her.

And then—

And then his eyes landed on a girl near the tide. She was gasping, wheezing, clearly trying to turn herself back around to face the ocean again. He was pretty sure he’d fallen into the water; had she saved him? Shit, he should thank her. 

Wait, was that a tail? Did this girl have a fucking tail? Weird costume, but okay.

He couldn’t see her face, concealed as it was with red curls that dripped onto the wet sand.

“Hey, are— are you alright?” he asked, his voice hoarse from the saltwater. The girl’s head snapped up, dark brown eyes widening in horror. “You saved me, right?” He stumbled in his effort to stand. “Thank you. I dunno what would’ve happened if you hadn’t.” The girl—she was awfully pretty, actually, even with so little of her visible since she was propped up on her elbows that way—did nothing but look at him silently, so he added, “That’s a hell of a costume, by the way. The tail looks like it could be real.”

She looked panicked then, pushing on the sand in an apparent attempt to maneuver herself back towards the water.

“It’s okay,” he reassured her gently. “We should probably take the tail off so you can get to a doctor or something. Here, let me help—“

But when he stepped forward, his hand outstretched towards her, she bared her teeth in a hiss, and her tail flicked like a cat’s, almost.

He wondered how she managed that (and also why she’d hissed at him, because what the fuck?), but didn’t question it further. She’d saved him, so even if she was fairly weird, he needed to help her, too. “It’s okay,” he said again. “I’ll help. I won’t hurt you.”

She hissed again, pushing against the sand more frantically the closer he got to her. And then, when he finally brushed his fingertips against the skin of her bare shoulder, she collapsed back into the sand with a whimper.

Biiiiig thanks to my beta @lilmaymayy

@ellamaianderson @shika1200 @blackqueenstarseed1 @gatoenlaciudad @esmaada @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @softhecreator @timolaurence @timmymyluv @oddlyenoughiamweird @leecrunchybones @s-we-e-t-t-ea @almostg @leespparker @bubblebuttwade @glizzymcguirex @starberry-cake @camille-1019 @lixzey @shycreationdreamland @gossamer19

To be added, please ask 💗

[m00nkissedlover]

・｡cat's first snow ❄️

you've ordered: cookies and cream ice cream! enjoy!

"twenty-four to twenty-five, bae. just stay with me." (partly inspired by "24 to 25" by stray kids)

animagus! regulus black x reader | word count: 1,492 words

summary: it snows at hogwarts! but, guess who hates the cold? ❄️ (silly little drabble)

warnings: a bit of cursing (lighthearted)! not really warnings, but: reader's favorite season is winter, regulus takes the animagus form of a cat.

note: i swear, i was giggling and kicking my feet writing this 🤭 yes, i'm reusing marauders/ skittles characters. again, i'm still getting caught up on marauders/ harry potter stuff in general. this fic is based on this post i made.

the courtyard grounds of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry were blanketed in a pillowy white layer of snow. excitement emanated through the corridors and hallways of the school as students and faculty alike talked of taking pleasure in the wondrous winter display. basically, everyone was ready for classes to end so they could go out and play in the snow.

well...not everyone.

you see, your boyfriend, regulus black: he hated the cold. hated with a capital H. ever since he was a child, the slytherin was never fond of the chilly weather of fall and winter, always wrapped to the nines in layers of sweaters and jackets. not even a single wisp of cold air could touch him without him kicking up a fuss.

obviously, this was a problem since you lived for the cold weather of winter. getting to splurge on cute, fluffy sweaters, tins of flavored hot chocolate mix, and jars of various teas made your heart pound with joy. and of course, playing in the snow was just as fun.

"boys versus girls snowball fight in ten minutes!" evan yelled, throwing his scarf around his neck as he, barty, and james made a mad dash down the hallway.

"losers have to shove snow down their shirts!" sirus chimed in, he and remus following after the others.

"they're so immature." pandora grumbled, rolling her eyes as she watched her brother run down the hallway like an idiot.

"i know right....but, we're winning the fight, right?" marlene asked, nudging dorcas in her side.

"oh definitely." dorcas responded, lily giving them a thumbs up before looking around.

"have any of you seen y/n? i could've sworn they were just with us." lily asked, the girls looking around in confusion.

just where were you?

"reg, please? it's not even that bad, i swear!" oh, there you were, currently trying to persuade regulus to come outside with you guys.

you knew it was a futile effort. he'd never agree.

"i don't care, i said i'm not coming." the stubborn slytherin refused, tucking himself deeper into the blankets he had piled around him.

"you're being ridiculous."

"and what's so ridiculous about not wanting to freeze to death?" he quipped in a rather dramatic tone that made you bite back a laugh.

"fine, i'll just go out myself. and have fun with the others..." you said, glancing over at regulus to see if your words had affected him.

"alright, have fun."

you frowned, getting up and buttoning up your jacket. "but even though i'll be with them, i'll still be a little...lonely. if only my boyfriend would come and keep me company...." nothing.

"y/n, i know what you're doing." he said, not even looking up from his book.

"fuck you, regulus black." you groaned.

"maybe after your snow day." he smiled to himself, knowing he got under your skin as he heard the door slam shut.

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"look at him, all warm and cozy, while we're all freezing our asses off." evan huffed. you were all peering in through the window of the common room, watching a familiar black cat enjoying the comfort of the fireplace.

"you thinking what i'm thinking?" barty whispered to you, a sly grin on his pierced lips.

"absolutely." you nodded, giving him the same grin as the two of you slipped away from the group. you waited in the corridor, peeking through one of the windows.

barty quietly stepped into the room, the black cat now stretching out on the couch. the crouch boy carefully tiptoed over to the couch, leaning over it and giving regulus a smile. "hey reg...don't hate me too much after this."

that cat equivalent of a scream was heard as barty swiftly scooped up the poor feline, shoving him into his coat. you had to try your best not to burst into a fit of laughter, your hand slapped over your mouth and body shaking. you watched as regulus hissed and reached out with clawed paws, trying to scratch at barty, who was scrambling out the door and over to you.

"damn, he put up a fight." barty huffed, handing you the obviously unhappy cat.

"thanks, crouchy!" you smiled, now shoving regulus into your coat. he let out a meow of protest as you ran down the hall and out the large double doors.

you could feel regulus jerk in your arms as the cold air washed over his fur. you pulled him out of your coat, playfully swinging him in your arms. then he saw it: the pile of snow you were about to fling him into.

"3....2.....1!" you yelled, tossing him into the pillowy white snow. a startled "mrow!" left the black cat's throat as he landed into it with a soft thud. he poked his head out, the snow on his head practically melting with how seething he was.

"oh come on, reg. have some fun! look-? wait, where's sirus?" your question was answered as you saw padfoot running over to the group and slamming into the pile of snow.

laughter filled the air as padfoot popped his head out and shook out his snow covered fur that resulted in regulus getting covered in snow once again. padfoot playfully nudged the angry cat, licking over his fur. you knelt down and gently scooped regulus back up into your coat, planting a soft kiss onto his head, right between his ears. the look on his face said "i hate you" but in a "you're lucky i love you" way.

after hours of snowball fights, snow angels, and building snowmen, the sun was finally beginning to set on your wintertime activities. you all made your way back inside, regulus snuggly tucked into your coat and poking his head through your scarf. when you two arrived at his dorm, he hopped out of your arms and scurried into his closet. a few moments later, regulus walked out, wrapped in a blanket and shivering rather dramatically.

"don't ever take me out in the cold again." he said through chittering teeth.

"but, wasn't that fun? at least you were warmer in your cat form, no?" you teased, walking over to him and cupping his face in your hands.

"cold!" he yelped, jumping back from the frosty touch of your fingers. a smirk formed on your face as you looked at your hands, then back at your boyfriend.

"y/n, don't-" you stepped closer to him, his eyes darting around the room.

"y/n- AH!" you immediately charged at him, chasing him around the room as he desperately tried to avoid your freezing cold hands.

"get over here!" you giggled, cornering him against his bed. you moved to straddle him, your thighs on either side of his waist.

"wait, y/n, please!" the poor boy pleaded, trying not to laugh at the determined look in your eyes.

"i can't hear you!" you teased, quickly slipping your hands underneath the blanket and pressing them to his sides.

"GAH!" the yelp that left his throat had you laughing till your throat was sore, regulus grabbing your wrists to get you off of him.

"ah! please, have mercy!" regulus mumbled weakly, a shiver running through his whole body as you leaned closer to him, that ridiculous smirk still on your face.

"want me to help you warm up?" you whispered, your warm breath wafting over his lips that twitched in response.

"i guess..." regulus mumbled, trying to fight the smile forming on his lips.

you smiled at his attempt to seem upset, leaning over and softly kissing his pouty lips. an audible "mmm" rumbled through his chest as he slowly forgot about the icy touch of your hands that were creeping up his bare sides and focused on the warmth emanating from your body and the kiss.

as you tilted your head to deepen the kiss, you felt regulus sneak his hands underneath your shirt, pressing his semi-cold hands to your skin. you yelped softly into the kiss, pulling away to scold him.

"mhm, how do you like them apples?" the dark haired male quipped, earning himself a playful pinching of his sides.

"how about we both get changed into more comfortable, warmer clothes and we can cuddle up together in the common room, hm? i'll even make you that tea you like so much." regulus couldn't pass up that offer.

"i'll think about it." that ultimately meant yes, your lips now pressing to his nose before letting him go.

the rest of the night was spent in the common room, you and the others chatting the night away and laughing over steaming mugs of hot chocolate and freshly brewed tea. regulus was practically glued to your hip, curled up under a blanket with you and letting you rest your head on his shoulder.

even though he didn't like the cold, regulus always felt all warm and fuzzy inside seeing just how happy you were whenever winter rolled around. ❄️

© m00nkissedlover, 2024

[hemmingsleclerc]

''Is it obvious?'' | Timothée Chalamet

timothée chalamet x fem!reader

Social Media AU!!

ynln

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

ynln miss shooting w these people!!!

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

username fav cast ever 🥹🥹

username give us more bts pics!!!

zendaya my girlllll 😍💗

tomholland13 🙌😎

tchalamet

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

tchalamet DUNE BTS 🤟🏻

username since when yn follows timmy omg

username for a while now!!!

username YES KINGGG🫦🫦

username does anyone know if zendaya and timmy are dating?

username Idk but some fans say she has something with tom🤷🏻‍♀️

enews

Liked by 240,489 others

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

username WHAT HOW WHEN!?

username WHO IS SHEEEEE 👹👹👹

username I think I know that sweater

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

username he looks so happy😭💕

ynln posted a story!

caption:💗💗

seen by 29,593,593

tchalamet has posted a story

caption: rainy days with the best company🙌❤️

seen by: 27,583,017

yndaily

Liked by tomholland13, paulinechalamet and 184,952 others

yndaily NO WAY YN AND TIMOTHÉE KISSING TODAY IN NY

username WHAT !?

username NO.WAY

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

ynln

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

ynln I picked the right one ❤️

tagged: tchalamet

tchalamet MY GIRL!!!! ❤️💃💃💋🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻

zendaya 🥺💕

tomholland congrats mates!

blakelively so so happy for you two!!

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

liked by ynln and tchalamet

comments on this post are limited

[isaacarellanesismyhusband]

you’re my favorite people

pair: Timothée Chalamet x reader

requested by @pmak2002

Timothee and reader have a baby together and one night the baby gets sick and Tim does too. Reader has to take care of both of them all night and all day. By the end of the day she needs to rest with both sickies after taking care of both of them.

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Y/N had just settled into bed after a long day of work when she heard the soft whimper from the baby monitor. She sighed, glancing at the clock. It was just past midnight. She carefully got out of bed, trying not to wake Timothée, who was sprawled across the sheets, completely out.

Entering the nursery, she found their baby girl, Lily, lying in her crib, her tiny face scrunched up in discomfort. Y/N rushed to her side, gently lifting her into her arms. “Hey, sweet girl. What’s wrong?” she whispered, rocking her slightly.

Lily let out a small cough, and Y/N’s heart sank. “Oh no, baby. Let’s get you comfortable.” She checked Lily’s forehead and felt the warmth radiating from it. She hurried to get a cool cloth and some medicine before settling back in the rocking chair.

As she was soothing Lily, she heard Timothée stir. “Y/N?” he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. She turned to see him rubbing his eyes, looking both adorable and exhausted.

“Lily’s not feeling well,” she replied, trying to keep her voice steady. “She has a little fever.”

Timothée blinked a few times before sitting up, his hair a mess. “I can help—” He stopped mid-sentence, a sudden cough interrupting him. Y/N’s heart sank again.

“You don’t look so good either, Tim.”

“I think I might be getting sick,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair. “What do you need me to do?”

Y/N smiled softly, despite the worry bubbling inside her. “Just stay here with us. I’ll handle everything.”

After a long night of rocking and comforting Lily, Y/N finally got her to settle down, but Timothée’s coughs grew worse. She took a deep breath, knowing the day ahead would be challenging.

As the sun rose, Y/N made her way to the kitchen. She prepared some warm soup, hoping it would help both Timothée and Lily feel better. After feeding Lily, who was still feeling groggy, she returned to Timothée, who was now propped up against the pillows, looking pale.

“Hey,” she said, handing him a bowl. “Eat this. You both need your strength.”

Timothée managed a small smile. “You’re the best, you know that?”

Y/N couldn’t help but chuckle, even though she felt exhausted. “I’m just trying to keep you both from turning into zombies.”

After a long day of caring for her two sickies, with countless cuddles, medicine doses, and a few tears from Lily, Y/N finally collapsed onto the couch. She pulled both Timothée and Lily close to her, feeling the warmth of their bodies against hers.

“You’re my favorite people,” she whispered, looking down at Lily’s tiny face nestled against her chest and Timothée’s head resting on her shoulder.

“Even when we’re sick?” Timothée murmured, his eyes half-closed.

“Even when you’re sick,” she replied softly, a smile tugging at her lips. “Now let’s just rest, okay?”