#timothée chamalet x reader

[crescenthistory]

hi! i have this really cute idea for regulus x fem! reader. so reader is a animagus and it’s winter time so sometimes she’ll shift into a their animal form, preferably a cat, and goes seek out warmth. but reader is also besties with remus and knows he’s a werewolf, his body temperature runs a lot warmer then anyone else so she goes to room to cuddle. when that happens, regulus immediately knows they reader is with remus and, begrudgingly, goes to gryffindor to steal reader back.

when he gets there, sirius is pouring and complains to reggie that “your girlfriend is stealing my boyfriend” and regulus snaps back by saying “well your boyfriend is stealing my girlfriend” and reader and remus are amused but their bickering but don’t care.

anon. anon. i am giving you the BIGGEST kiss, you don't even know. this is perhaps the best idea i've seen in a while and so i love you. i will be thinking about this throughout all of winter, thank you.

Words: 3k

Warnings: not proofread, fem!reader, references to previous black brothers angst, disgusting amounts of fluff, best friends can cuddle platonically regardless of gender i will fight you on this, background rosekiller and wolfstar, childhood best friend!remus, implied gryffindor!reader, sirius pretends to be jealous but is not

Note: read more about cat!animagus!reader's shenanigans with regulus, wolfstar and james in Sweet Like Honey; Karma is a Cat & Padfoot vs. Whiskers

When Regulus accepted Sirius’ attempt to mend their relationship, he had expected to get his big brother back in full and no more. The person who understands him best, the boy he needed to lean on – it was all he wanted to get out of it. Perhaps he expected to have to grown tolerant of his brother’s friends, but that was something he dreaded, if he at all thought of.

What Regulus had not expected was to be introduced to and fall head over heels in love with you.

Remus’ childhood best friend, the more reserved one of the bunch that he had always seen floating around with them, but whose voice he had never had to roll his eyes at, thus never interacted with. It bewildered him now how he once upon a time barely thought of you, regarded you.

Now he knew you were delightful, and Regulus was positively smitten.

It had been exactly what Regulus had never thought he would get – an easy love. Like your friends, you were open and honest and loyal to the bone, and it spilled over like honey into your relationships with those around you. Once you caught a glance of his clearly lovestruck eyes, you melted, and the puddle was caught delicately in his hands.

Since then, that is where he has held you. In the palms of his hands, close to his heart. He learned more than he perhaps wanted to know about himself during the process of opening up to you, and you showed him a patience he still is not entirely certain he deserves. But you gave him your time, your moments, your touches and your lips, and he received and received without complaint.

When the two most important people in Regulus’ life – one a fervent, natural devotion, another a sassy, passionate rivalry – were in the same hazardous circle of loud-mouthed Gryffindor friends, he eventually had to capitulate that he could no longer just tolerate them. They were family.

God, what love has cost him.

Regulus walked into his dorm room where you have spent more days than not for the past few months, and sighed defeatedly when all he finds there is Barty laying on top of Evan in some odd position that cannot possibly be comfortable.

“Hello to you too, Black. Thrilling to see you.” Barty’s voice was laced with sarcasm, but there was no menace there as of yet.

“Yeah, yeah,” Regulus grumbled as he threw his bookbag onto his bed and sat down. “You seen Y/N lately?”

“You mean since you were all snuggled up this morning? Nah.”

Regulus rolled his eyes painfully hard at his oldest friend, murmuring a soft sod off before tossing whatever was closest – his pyjama t-shirt – in Barty’s general direction, missing by a good metre. He is a seeker and not a chaser for a reason.

“What of it, Reg?” Evan mumbled, but it was distorted by Barty’s elbow being more or less shoved into his mouth. He could never sit still.

“Just figured she’d be here, ‘s all. She finished class before me.” Regulus falls down onto his bed, curls spilling onto the emerald sheets as he stares at the ceiling, picturing you there and then immediately kicking himself for being that down bad. Then reminding himself with the therapy-speech Sirius has been teaching him, love is a strength not a weakness, it’s good to feel your feelings. Yada yada. "It's been a long day."

“Maybe she got tired of your sorry ass.” Barty laughed at his own joke only to be smacked by Evan’s finally-freed hand.

“Or yours, you sod.”

“Nah, Treasure absolutely adores me.” Barty propped himself up to flash you both a grin. “See, unlike you, I’m fun.”

“Interesting word to substitute insufferable with.” Evan said, leaning his face up from underneath Barty, as if to intimidate him.

“You love me,” Barty drawled before kissing the blond soundly.

“Would you guys please stop flirting?” Regulus’ voice was closer to a groan than anything else. He pressed the backs of his hands to his eyes, seeing stars and thinking of you. Stupid poetic feelings.

“Just because you can’t keep track of your girl doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy ourselves.” Barty pointed an accusatory finger at Regulus. “I would classify that demand as rude.”

“Bite me.”

“Only if your girlfriend says yes.” This time it was Evan’s turn of tuning into Regulus’ torture.

“And she would.” Barty winks at him.

This time it’s a pillow Regulus throws at them, and it lands perfectly, smack in the middle of Barty’s face.

“Oi!” He calls as he throws it back. “Either you quit it, or you throw me your jumper, it’s freezing in here.”

“You’re literally in bed, Barty.” Regulus looks at him, unamused. “Just–”

He trails off, gaze falling from Barty to the wall behind him as he pieces the puzzle together and realisation dawns on his face. The other boys seem to have caught on as they both cock their heads curiously at him. 

“Of course,” Regulus whispers, first in marvel and then it morphs into something between exasperation and disgust. “Of course.” At last, he gets a determined look on his face, slapping his palms on his knees as he sits up from bed and grabs his jumper to go.

“Excuse you, what just happened?” Barty says, increasingly louder throughout his sentence as he realises Regulus is headed for the door, thick wool jumper tucked under his arm. “Hey!”

Regulus throws the boys a look over his shoulder, smirking at them and shaking his head before shutting the door and walking off. He barely catches Evan’s “shush, you baby, I’ll warm ya” before he is out of earshot.

A man with a purpose and half a plan stalks off, beginning the treacherous journey from the Slytherin dungeons to the Gryffindor dormitories.

What is the single thing Regulus knows can keep you from him when you’re otherwise attached at the hip? The cold.

What is the one person you go to for anything and everything, especially dealing with the cold? A certain ragged boy with a wolfish smile that he knows is to be found only behind the portrait of an increasingly annoying woman.

“Password?” The Fat Lady asked, quirking a brow ridiculously high as she regards Regulus with a mutual disgust.

“Catulus leonis.” Regulus does not bother holding back the eyeroll at the ridiculous passphrase.

She looks at him a moment or five longer than she needs, almost as if considering not letting him in despite his answer being perfectly correct, before she finally swings open the door wordlessly.

Regulus mutters a harsh thank you, Pureblood upbringing having knocked some politeness into him he is just not able to forego, no matter how severe his beef – as Sirius says – with the woman is.

When he finally approaches the offending dorm, the door opens fast enough to knock some wind across his face, and he is met with a set of black curls and a superfluous frown that both match his own.

“Regulus. Thank Merlin.”

“Good to see you too, Siri. How'd you know it was me?”

"Recognised your footsteps. Now, c'mon."

Regulus pushes in past his brother and his eyes immediately find Remus Lupin’s bed. To the unaware, it would just look like the scrawny boy was innocently laying on his bed, head propped against a mountain of pillows and reading another one of his paperbacks.

However, Regulus knew better and could see the perfect girlfriend-shaped lump underneath Remus’ jumper, shielded by his arms as he held his book over his stomach.

Or, at least shaped like this rather specific form of his girlfriend.

“Hello, amour, I’ve been looking for you.” Regulus’ voice is addressed to the bump on Remus’ chest, but he looks up at him with a quirked brow and a smug smile tugging on the corner of his lips.

“Didn’t know we were on a pet name-basis, Reg. Good to know.” 

“Absolutely not.” Sirius and Regulus chorus at the exact same time, and Regulus fights back the wince at how painfully similar they are in this moment.

“Reggie,” Sirius finally whines. “Your girlfriend’s been stealing my boyfriend for the past two hours. Do something!”

Despite having a very similar sentiment settled in his own chest, Regulus gives his brother a pull yourself together look as he comes up to stand beside him, near the occupied bed. “I’m fairly certain your boyfriend has stolen my girlfriend equally as much,” he tuts.

“Whatever, just do something.” Sirius waves his hand towards Remus’ still very relaxed state with something a bit too close to a pout forming on his face.

“There’s no need to be jealous, Pads, the poor girl’s just cold,” Remus chides, with a teasing glint in his eye that clearly shows he knows his boyfriend is being dramatic for the bit and not actually upset. "Gotta help 'er out."

“‘M not jealous. I’m needy.” Sirius’ deadpan stare is not affected by Remus’ laughter nor Regulus’ barely-contained snort.

“Glad you admit it,” Regulus says slyly, patting Sirius on his shoulder twice, who immediately shrugs his hand off with a scowl.

“Like you’re any better, you slithered all the way up from the snake pit to fetch her. At least I’m open about it.”

Before Regulus has the chance to retort, Remus puts his book down in his lap and reaches out a hand for Sirius, which he immediately takes. “I told you you could come lay in the bed with us, love,” Remus murmurs and swipes his thumb over the back of Sirius’ hand.

If he did not feel the same way, Regulus would have given Sirius hell for how he seemed to absolutely soften in the sunlight of his boy. “Yeah, I know, Moons, I’m just being theatrical.”

Remus laughs once more, and this time his chest rumbling results in a distinct prrrt! coming from the inside of his jumper. Up through the collar, cheek smashed against Remus’, comes the tentative head of beautiful grey-and-white fur and slow-blinking yellow eyes, still riddled with sleep. 

“Good morning, amour,” Regulus coos, ignoring Sirius’ snort as he drops down to squat beside Remus’ bed so his face is lined up with yours.

You pur, stretching beneath the fabric, a single paw escaping beside your head through the collar as you roll over onto your back. Your eyes remained trained on Regulus, and though he knows cats can’t actually smile, he swears you were smiling at him.

“Sorry to wake you, princess,” Sirius drawls as he looks down at you from where he is leaning on the bedpost beside Remus. “But have you seeped up enough warmth for me to get my boyfriend back yet?”

You make a faux hissing sound before ducking your head down, so it’s just barely hidden by the collar.

Remus laughs heartily, setting his book completely away this time so his hand can come up to rest on your cat-form, petting you through his jumper. “It’s alright kitten, take your time.”

The exposed paw lightly hits Remus’ cheek in retaliation, and this time it is Sirius and Regulus’ turn to laugh at his expense. “Ow! I share my warmth with you and this is what I get in return?”

From the movement beneath the fabric, Regulus assumes you’re nuzzling your head against his chest in apology.

“Amour, I brought your favourite jumper of mine and promise to make you so much hot cocoa if I can steal you back. We can be in your dorm room instead of mine, it’s warmer in there, right?” A smile remains consistent on Regulus’ face as he talks to you.

Sirius pats him on the back, murmuring something about you’re so whipped that he doesn’t bother to pay attention to. 

More movement beneath the fabric, and then suddenly your ears are poking out of the neckline again – because why would you make it easy for yourself and use the big exit, when you can squeeze your way through a tight opening? You’re a cat after all.

Remus seems to be thinking the same as he laughs while you attempt to climb out beside his head, soft fur brushing against his skin and making up for the occasional claw you use for traction. 

Regulus attempts to bite back the coos as he sees more and more of you, recognising your movements as sluggish with sleep, no doubt coaxed into it by finally being comfortable.

“Thanks for today, see you again tomorrow, same time?” Remus teases, head turned towards you as you headbutt him lovingly, finally fully escaped from his jumper and standing on his shoulder. He nuzzles you back and scratches your head in goodbye.

Another prrrt! escapes you in greeting as you saunter your way across Remus and plop onto the small strip of mattress on his side where Regulus’ hands are open and ready to receive you. 

“Hi, sweetie,” he whispers as you allow him to scoop you up into his arms while he’s still squatting beside the bed. He holds you like an infant, tight to his body and securely supported. You immediately begin to purr loudly, nuzzling your head even further into his neck and shoulder.

Regulus does not bother to hold back the slight giggle as your caresses tickle him. 

“Good gods, are you two sappy,” Sirius groans, but when Regulus looks up, there is a wide grin on his face. A slightly teasing one admittedly, but a grin nonetheless.

Then, Regulus recognises where Sirius is grinning at him from – properly cuddled up besides Remus on the opposite side of the bed, arms beneath his jumper, soaking up the leftover warmth from you.

“Wait– how did you get there so fast?” Regulus’ voice is almost incredulous, stopping his greeting of you – earning him a harrumphing meow – to narrow his eyes at his brother. “I didn’t even notice you move from beside me.”

“What can I say; I am a dedicated man.” Sirius nuzzles into Remus’ cheek, not much unlike how you were mere seconds ago, albeit his involved a tad many more kisses.

“You’re weird, that’s what you are,” Regulus laughs as he stands up with you in his arms.

You turn around to look up at him with those big, slitted eyes of yours. When you extend your neck further towards his face, Regulus lifts you higher so you can give him the cat-kisses you so evidently wanted, his lips curling at your touch.

Sirius lifts a brow at the two of you. “Yeah. I’m the weird one.” 

Regulus scoffs at him, but when you continue to caress your furry cheeks against his lips and chin, it is difficult for any menace to remain serious.

“Thank you for your deviant supernatural warmth keeping my girlfriend alive, Lupin, but I’d like to steal her away from you now.” 

“By all means, Black, you’ve already stolen her from me once,” Remus harrumphs, pretending to be some scorned faux older brother but his eyes betray his facade; he is happy for you.

Regulus chooses to ignore it nonetheless.

“Brother.” He nods at Sirius. “Soon to be brother-in-law.” He nods at Remus. “We bid you goodnight.”

“Try not to undo all of Moony’s hard work by freezing her right back up with your freakishly cold feet!” Sirius calls after him as he heads towards the door. He then promptly gives out a soft yelp that indicates Remus corrected him in some physical way.

“Goodnight love, goodnight Reg,” Remus calls instead.

“Yeah, bye, doll!” Sirius adds, whispering more to himself, “he’s mine again now.”

You give out a tired meow that is so cute it makes Regulus’ heart clench with endearment. You cuddle properly up into the crook of his neck as he carries you out, softly closing the door behind him with a smile.

He shifts you in his grip so he can look down at you more carefully. “You are so unbelievably predictable. And even cuter than that again, which is saying something,” he murmurs to you and you respond with quiet meows.

He looks at you curiously. “Are you going to remain in cat form the whole night?”

Your tail twitches teasingly, your only other response is a quiet prrt as you close your eyes into the warmth of his neck again. He laughs, covering your feline body with his hands as he carries you, to keep the warmth in.

He sneaks into your dorm – thankfully often unoccupied as Marlene is with Dorcas and Mary is with Pandora – and settles you down onto your plush mattress and pillows. He undresses and gets ready for bed, while you’re resting your head on the pillow, observing him, but just before getting under the covers, he slips on his jumper.

“It’s so soft I could cry, Reggie,” you had whispered to him when you cuddled up to him when he wore it around you for the first time. “I fear I can never let you go now.”

Regulus slides under the blankets with a knowing smile, opening the hem, allowing you to creep under, chest against chest with your head poking out of the collar to rest at the bottom of his neck. 

“I'm no werewolf, but I’ll keep you warm with my love, amour,” he whispered to you in the dark, one hand combing through your fur protectively underneath his own jumper.

He swears, he could hear the little cat snort against his skin.

Regulus fell desperately deeper in love.

[lixzey]

forever yours.

one two

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But now you were a homewrecker, a slut. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I'm okay, don't worry.” 

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

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

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

“It's just....it's silly, honestly.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I love you more, baby. But….” 

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

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

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

“Baby….” 

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

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

Timothée chuckled. “I know Hollywood.”

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

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

“You really want to read it?”

“Yes, I do.”��

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

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

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

timotheestan: die bitch

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

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

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

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

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

– user1: count me in! 

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

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

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

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

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

"But…but...”

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

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

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

“I don't deserve you.” 

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

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

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

Your boyfriend, your Timothée, yours. 

@helens3amstuff @gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @lovemelikecrazyiloveyoucrazy @tchalamss @tchalamss @ashlynnmalfoy @crazycat-ladys-blog @michakune @mxltifxnd0m @spencerr3idd @dangelnleif @sthkate @ferrjulie @imnotoverlyobsessive @mel-vaz @elsagreeer @lovely-maryj @meowmeowmau @bobthe-turmpetman29 @saintcosette

[theghostinyourwalls]

I wanna write so many things

[gh0stsp1d3r]

Ooo can I please request a Wonka x fem!reader where she’s his wife and she gets trapped in the laundry mat as well and Willy is really upset and feeling like an awful husband because they don’t have a lot of money and now are also stuck captive🥺 Y/n reassuring him that they’ll get through this and that she’s just happy that they’re together 🥺 They’ve been together for years, and Y/n has been by his side through all of the adventures with getting all his chocolate ingredients and making chocolate, and she’ll always stay by her SWEET husband’s side 🥹

Also I LOVE YOU

oh m gee I love this idea AND I LOVE u!! my reqs r open for wonka now (;

𝒯𝓇𝒶𝓅𝓅ℯ𝒹

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

“Willy.” You groaned out when your head hit the bottom of the chute. He said your name, looking at you and quickly grabbing your hand.

You both then looked in front of you guys, at the others. They introduced themselves, but he wasn't having any of it. He got up and you both quickly tried to find an exit.

"There's a dog over there-" someone said, but it was too late when you realized, and the dog barked, so you backed away.

He was frustrated with himself- In his mind, it was his fault. He felt like a terrible husband when he looked at your face full of confusion. You were trapped.

You both listened and watched as they explained what you both would be doing- for God knows how long. You noticed his unusual behavior and quietness. And at the end of the day, you stood in his room with him.

"Willy, what’s wrong?”you interrupted his thoughts.

"I'm sorry. I'm... so sorry," he said, his voice barely audible.

“It's not your fault, willy.”

“It is. I should've known something was wrong."

“You shouldn't blame yourself, Willy. You couldn't have read it. You couldn’t have known.”

He sighed and sat down on the bed. You sat down next to him, and he turned to you, taking your hand in his.

"All I've ever wanted since I married you was to make you happy. You've been with me every step of the way. I love you, so much. And now, we're stuck in the basement of a hag all because I wasn't careful. You are the best thing to ever happen in my life. You deserve better.”

You laughed at the last sentence. "I'm happy. I'm happy anywhere I am as long as it's with you. I love you, and I promise you we'll get through this. When we get out of here, we'll start the best chocolate business anyone's ever seen." you said, he looked at you with a small smile on his face as you talked.

His eyes were full of adoration, with a twinkle of hope as he listened to your words. He leaned in and closed his eyes, hands moving to cup your face.

"I love you." he said once more, his words a promise of a better future.

[lex-the-flex]

Drinking the Water of Life

Paul Atreides x reader

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

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

But he loved you with all his heart.

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

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

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

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

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

"Paul, what is it?" You ask.

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

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

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

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

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

*****

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

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

"It's time, Y/N."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

taglist ~

@dreamliners

@visionsofsweettea

@xplore-the-unknwn

@kaleidoscope1967eyes

@shions-new-blog-of-stuff

[tini5]

In Paris, With You...

Pairing : Drew Starkey x Reader

Summary : What starts as a playful tease from your best friend, Timothée about a crush quickly turns into an unforgettable night. Being invited to the Loewe fashion show in Paris, leads you to get tangled in your sheets with Drew.

Themes : Fluff/Smut

Word Count : 4346

Note : I am apologizing in advance bc it's my first time writing a fic that long, along with first attempt at writing smut and for drew in general!!! I tried my best, even tho i think i wrote more about timmys and taylors relationship i hope you enjoy!! Not proofreaded!!

"I wish you would get invited to Loewe’s fashion show in Paris,” Timothée said, his lips curling into a playful smile as he picked at a piece of sushi on his plate. The familiar hum of the restaurant around you made the moment feel even more personal, like the world outside was a distant dream, a comfortable quiet between you, only interrupted by the clinking of plates as the waiter brought over a fresh round of sushi. 

Your place—our place, you thought—was a small, hidden sushi restaurant in New York, a cozy spot where you two came to unwind, laugh, and share stories you couldn’t share with anyone else. It was a place you and Timothée had claimed as your own since your careers first took off. A lot has changed since then. Starring in Luca Guadagnino’s movie “Challengers” and seeing your career take off at just 22, was truly amazing.  

He leaned in with a mischievous glint in his eyes, narrowing them at you like he was about to reveal a grand secret. “That way, you could meet your lover boy,” he teased, adding a dramatic hand movements with his chopsticks.

You rolled your eyes, but there was no hiding the flush creeping up your neck. “You want me to go to Loewe’s show just because of Drew starkey? I don’t even like him like that.”

Timmy raised an eyebrow, the smirk widening. “Lies, lies, lies,” he sang, his voice dripping with mock accusation. You hated how well he knew you—sometimes better than you knew yourself.

“Whatever,” you muttered, stabbing at your own sushi defensively as you put down your chopsticks. “Do you know who’s the brand ambassador of Loewe?”

The shift in Timothée’s expression was instant, his face scrunching up in a mix of guilt and annoyance, as if he knew exactly where this conversation was heading. He sighed dramatically, but before he could stop you…-

“The most gorgeous woman you fumbled because of you know who – the one who shall not be named,” you said, letting the word her hang in the air, dripping with emphasis.

There was no need to explain further. He knew exactly who you meant. You watched as his shoulders sagged slightly, but the smirk stayed on his face, though now it was more resigned than mischievous.

“Low blow,” he muttered, and you both burst into laughter, the memory of his ill-fated relationship hanging between you like a shared joke.

Who knew that Timothée’s big mouth could sense the future? But here you were, sitting in a car, watching the skyline of Paris blur past as you headed toward Loewe’s fashion show. It was almost too surreal, the memory of that sushi restaurant conversation lingering in the back of your mind.

You glanced over at Timmy, who was typing something on his phone, his thumb moving in rapid, practiced motions. He looked up for a second and grinned. "See? I told you. Here we are, ready for your lover boy," he teased, leaning back in his seat, eyes glinting with mischief.

You couldn’t stop the eye roll that followed. "I swear, you have an obsession with that phrase. But we don't even know if he'll be there."

"You hope he’ll be there," Timmy quipped, nudging your shoulder playfullly.

You tried to suppress a smile, but it was useless. Yes, you hoped. Drew Starkey had become a quiet fixation in your mind—there was something about him that you couldn’t shake off. Maybe it was his blue eyes, his charisma, his –

Your hands smoothed over the fabric of your dress, custom-made by Loewe, every stitch and detail meticulously crafted to perfection. Jonathan Anderson had made sure it reflected not only the brand’s style but also you—soft yet bold, striking but elegant. You looked stunning, and you knew it. 

The car ride felt both too long and too short, your mind spinning with what-ifs. Timmy, noticing your quiet, serious for once, put his phone away and turned to face you. "Hey," he said gently. "We can ditch it if you want. No fashion show and no boy is worth you eating your nerves over."

You smiled softly at him. That was the thing about Timothée—he knew when to be playful, and he knew when to be serious. He knew you. "I know," you said, your voice quiet but steady. "But I’ll be fine. Besides, you’d be miserable if you missed the after party later.”

Timmy shrugged with a grin. "Yeah, you’re probably right. But seriously, if you want to go, we’ll go. If you want to leave, we’ll leave."

You appreciated that more than you could say, but instead of responding, you looked out the window. The car slowed to a stop, and the reality of the situation hit you. The cameras, the people, the flashing lights—it was all waiting just outside.

"Ready?" Timmy asked, holding out his hand like a knight in shining armor.

You took a deep breath and nodded, slipping your hand into his. "As ready as I'll ever be."

The fashion show itself was a whirlwind. Lights, camera flashes, the hum of conversation blending with the soft music in the background. But amidst the glamour, you were determined to keep your distance from Drew. Every time you caught a glimpse of his tall frame, you did your best to blend into the crowd and focus on the runway.

Timothée, couldn’t resist teasing you about Drew, his playful remarks making it even harder to stay composed. Despite your heart fluttering every time you heard his soft laugh, you managed to keep your cool, or at least you hoped you did.

The show itself was a visual feast, with stunning outfits by Loewe that left everyone in awe. Timothée was in his element, charming everyone he spoke to, effortlessly gliding through the crowd. Yet, you could tell he was also trying hard to avoid running into Taylor Russell. 

You couldn’t miss how his eyes flickered toward her now and then, a flash of something in his expression that only you could read. But you gave him space, knowing that whatever was going on between them was its own delicate web.

You exchanged polite smiles and laughed at jokes, did your best to keep up but your thoughts always circled back to one thing: Drew Starkey.

You both succeeded in your mission during the show. But as the show came to a close and the after-party beckoned, the sense of triumph was short-lived. 

The after-party was a different beast altogether. And there, at the heart of it, was Drew Starkey, mingling with his entourage and catching your eye from time to time. Despite your best efforts, you felt the electric pull of his gaze, the gravity of his presence impossible to ignore.

Timmy noticed, of course. "We can leave, you know, get a take out" he offered again as you both stepped into the car. But you shook your head, determined now. “Then stop worrying. He is not going to eat you.” Teased Timmy. 

Then it happened. As you sat at the table with Timothee, you saw Taylor Russell make her way through crowd. 

You quickly turned to Timothée, a note of urgency in your voice. “Timmy, don’t panic, but she’s coming over.”

Timothée’s eyes widened slightly as he turned to look at Taylor. His usual nonchalance faded into a look of mild panic. “You’re kidding,” he muttered, trying to keep his cool. “Why does she have to pick now to come over?”

And before you knew… - “Hello” – Tension shifted as Taylor greeted you with her ever the sweetest voice. 

“I’m going to grab a drink. I’ll catch up with you later.” you said, your voice carrying a light, reassuring tone. You shot him a quick look, raising an eyebrow. "I’ll kill you if you screw it up," you mouthed playfully, earning a quick smirk from him before you excused yourself to give them some privacy.

Making your way to the bar, you tried not to let your nerves overwhelm you. Just a drink, you thought. Just a quick drink, then I can blend into the background.

“One Cosmopolitan, please,” you told the bartender, just as a familiar voice from beside you made your heart skip a beat.

“It’s on me.”

You turned, and there he was—Drew Starkey, leaning against the bar with a whiskey in hand, looking as effortlessly cool as ever.

Your pulse quickened at the sound of Drew’s voice. He stood next to you, casually leaning on the bar like he belonged there—like he belonged everywhere. His tailored jacket hung off his broad shoulders as though it was designed for him alone. His eyes, that piercing blue you couldn’t forget, caught yours as he smiled—a lazy, confident grin that made your stomach do a flip.

“It’s on me,” he repeated, a little softer, his voice low enough to feel intimate despite the crowd around you.

Your heart stuttered, and for a split second, you forgot how to respond. All those times you’d fantasized about running into Drew Starkey in moments like this and now-  He was right there, buying you a drink, and you felt like a teenager all over again.

“Thank you” you finally managed, forcing the word out without sounding too flustered. But your face betrayed you, the warmth creeping up your neck and settling in your cheeks. You prayed the dim lighting would hide the blush.

The bartender slid your drink in front of you, and you lifted it to your lips, hoping the cool liquid would calm your nerves. But Drew was watching you—really watching you—and that made it impossible to relax. His eyes never left yours, and there was something about his gaze that made you feel both exposed and flattered at the same time.

“You look stunning, by the way,” Drew added, his voice velvety smooth, the compliment slipping out so easily it nearly disarmed you.

You blinked, trying to play it cool, but the way he said it made your heart race. "Thanks," you said again, "You’re not so bad yourself."

Drew chuckled, a deep sound that seemed to ripple through the air between you. His presence was intoxicating, almost as much as the drink in your hand. “I’ve been told,” he joked, his smile widening just enough to show a hint of mischief. Your lips tugged into a grin despite yourself. 

“So," he said, leaning in a little closer, his elbow brushing lightly against your arm as if testing your boundaries, "how are you enjoying Paris?”

A warm smile spread across your face, and you took a moment to gather your thoughts. “Paris is... well, it’s like coming home in a way,” you began, your voice tinged with affection. “Even though I grew up in the States, there’s something about this city that just feels incredibly familiar and comforting.”

You took a sip of your cosmopolitan, letting the flavors mingle with your emotions. “It’s the little things, you know? The way the light changes on the Seine, the scent of freshly baked pastries through the streets, It all feels so...Parisian. It’s like stepping into a world that’s both new and deeply personal at the same time.”

Drew’s smile widened, his expression softening, a genuine appreciation in his eyes. “I can see how much this city means to you. It sounds like you’re really embracing the magic of Paris.”

You nodded, a playful smile tugging at your lips“So the Queer, huh?” you asked, your tone light and teasing. Drew’s chuckle was light and warm, making you smile even more. “So the Challengers, huh?”

You both laughed, the easy banter between you making the moment feel effortless and natural. 

“So, how was working with Luca? I know how he gets sometimes.” 

His eyes lit up at the mention of Luca’s name, and you couldn’t help but smile warmly. “Luca is incredible. He’s not just a director; he’s like a creative force of nature. it’s like he has this unique ability to bring out the best in everyone he works with.”

You leaned in slightly, enjoying the conversation. “Oh, absolutely. Luca has this way of making you feel like you’re part of something truly special. I’ve learned so much from him. He’s like a father figure to me.”

Drew’s gaze was warm and appreciative, “Its sweet how full of love you are.”

You felt your cheeks warm at his compliment, and you couldn’t help but smile. “Oh, is that so? But enough about Luca. What about you, Drew? What’s your creative magic like?”

Drew’s smile widened, a playful glint in his eyes. “My magic? Well, I’d say it’s more about finding the right moments to create something special. And right now, I think the real magic is happening here.” He gestured between the two of you with a teasing grin.

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “And what makes you say that?”

Drew leaned in a little closer, his voice dropping to a more intimate tone. “Well, I have to say, talking to you is a highlight of my night. You’ve got this incredible energy that’s hard to resist. And I’m not just talking about your career.”

A soft laugh escaped you, and you could feel the flirtatious tension between you growing. “Is that so? I must admit,you’ve got a way of making me feel special.”

Drew’s eyes met yours with a look that was both sincere and playful. “I’m glad to hear that. It’s not every day I get to chat with someone as fascinating and pretty as you”

You felt a flutter in your stomach at his words. “Well, I’m glad I could make an impression” 

Drew’s smile grew, his gaze held yours, But before either of you could continue, the moment shattered.

“Drew? What took you so long?”

Odessa’s voice sliced through the comfortable haze you and Drew had created, and the tension in the air shifted immediately. 

You didn’t have to turn around to know it was her—the sharpness in her tone was unmistakable. Drew’s shoulders stiffened slightly, and though his smile didn’t completely fade, it wasn’t as easygoing as before.

Odessa was stunning, of course—there was no denying that But there was something about her presence that felt... strange. Maybe it was the way she looked at you, her eyes flicking up and down, sizing you up in a single sweep. 

Her expression betraying a hint of impatience. “I was just about ready to head out. Are you not coming?”

Drew turned to her, his face a mixture of apology and concern. “Oh, right. I just got caught up in a conversation here. I’ll be right out in a moment, go wait outside okay?”

Odessa’s eyes flicked to you with a mixture of curiosity and something sharper—perhaps jealousy. She gave you a curt nod. “Nice to meet you.”

You offered a polite smile, trying to keep the interaction friendly despite the underlying tension. “Nice to meet you too, Odessa.”

Drew’s gaze returned to you, and there was a softness in his eyes that made your heart flutter. “I really enjoyed talking with you. I’m sorry –

You nodded, feeling a mix of disappointment and understanding. “It’s okay. I hope you both have a good night.”

Drew’s smile was tinged with regret as he leaned in slightly, his voice low and sincere. “I’ll text you.”

With a final, lingering glance, Drew turned and walked away ,leaving you with a swirl of emotions. You watched him disappear into the crowd before taking a deep breath, trying to calm the fluttering in your chest.

You downed the rest of your cosmopolitan in one go, hoping the drink would steady your nerves. Pulling out your phone, you quickly texted Timothée, letting him know you were heading out.

As you made your way to the Uber pickup area, you could feel the mix of excitement building inside you. Just as you settled into the backseat of the car, your phone buzzed with a new message.

It was from Drew. 

Drew: I couldn’t stop thinking about our conversation. I’d love to continue it… 

You: 44.

You: It’s my hotel room number. 

You: Don’t make me wait. 

The Uber ride back to your hotel was a blur. Your heart hadn’t stopped pounding. 

You leaned your head against the window, watching the lights of Paris blur past as the adrenaline surged through your veins. 

Stepping out of the car and you hurried your way up to your hotel room. Part of you wondered what you were getting yourself into, but the other part—the part that had been down bad for Drew Starkey since the moment you saw him—couldn’t resist the temptation.

And then, finally, not too long after you entered your room, a soft knock was heared.  You froze for a moment, staring at the door, before gathering yourself and opening it.

Drew’s eyes were dark, intense, but his smile was soft, disarming. He stepped inside, the door closing quietly behind him, and suddenly the air between you felt charged, thick with anticipation.

“You really sent me your room number,” he said, voice low, teasing, as he leaned against the wall, watching you with that same amused glint in his eyes.

You shrugged, trying to keep it light, though your heart was racing a mile a minute. “I figured you’d appreciate the direct approach.”

Drew laughed softly, stepping closer, his gaze flicking over you like he was taking in every little detail. “I do,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a near whisper as he reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I really do.”

The touch of his fingers on your skin sent a shiver through you, and before you knew it, you were standing impossibly close, the space between you shrinking with every breath.

“Do you know how hard it was to not look at you all night?” he asked, his voice warm against your skin, his lips just inches away from yours. “You were all I could think about.”

Your breath hitched as his words settled over you, your heart pounding louder in your ears. You looked up at him, eyes wide, and for a moment, all the nervous energy melted away.

“I noticed,” you whispered, barely able to keep the teasing out of your voice.

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your cheek, his breath warm against your ear. “Good.”

Before you could respond, his lips found yours, soft but deliberate, like he had been waiting for this moment as long as you had. The kiss was slow at first, testing the waters, but when you kissed him back, everything else melted away. It was just you and Drew, the rest of the world fading into the background as his hands slid around your waist, pulling you closer.

Time seemed to blur as the kiss deepened, your hands instinctively finding their way to the back of his neck, pulling him closer. When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless, your lips tingling from the intensity of it all.

Drew leaned his forehead against yours, his breath ragged, his hands still holding you close. "I've wanted to do that for a while," he admitted, his voice low, almost a confession.

You looked up at him, your heart swelling at the vulnerability in his words. "So have I."

Without thinking, you closed the distance between you, your lips crashing into his in a kiss that was nothing like the first—a kiss filled with longing and heat. Drew responded instantly, his hands sliding around your waist, pulling you tightly against him. His lips moved over yours with urgency, as if he’d been waiting for this moment for far too long.

You moaned softly into his mouth, and that seemed to be all the encouragement he needed. He backed you toward the bed, his lips never leaving yours, his hands roaming over your body, sending sparks of desire everywhere they touched. You stumbled slightly, your legs hitting the edge of the bed, and you pulled him down with you, the both of you collapsing onto the mattress in a tangled heap of limbs.

Drew’s body hovered over yours, his eyes locked on yours with an intensity that made your breath catch. His hands, now more confident, slid up the sides of your body, teasing the hem of your shirt before pulling it up and over your head in one smooth motion. The cool air against your skin contrasted sharply with the heat radiating off his body, and you felt a rush of anticipation as his gaze darkened, his lips quirking up in appreciation.

“You’re stunning,” he whispered, his voice thick with desire.

Your breath hitched as his lips found your neck, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your skin. You arched into him, the sensation of his mouth on you sending a wave of pleasure coursing through your body. He worked his way lower, his fingers deftly unclasping your bra and tossing it aside before his lips closed around your nipple, his tongue flicking against the sensitive skin.

A soft moan escaped your lips, and Drew groaned in response, the sound vibrating against your skin. He moved with purpose now, his hands sliding down your sides, tugging at your pants until they were nothing but a heap on the floor. Every touch, every kiss, felt like fire, like he was branding you with his desire.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he whispered against your skin, his voice low and rough, sending a shiver through you.

You reached up, pulling him closer, your lips crashing into his once more. The kiss was frantic now, filled with need and desperation. 

Before you knew it, Drew had shed his own clothes, his body pressed against yours, skin on skin, the heat between you almost unbearable. His hands roamed over your body, exploring every curve, every dip, like he was trying to memorize the feel of you. And when he finally slid his hand between your thighs, teasing you, you gasped, your body arching into him, silently begging for more.

“Drew,” you breathed, your voice barely a whisper, laced with need.

He smirked against your lips, his fingers dipping lower, sliding inside you with a slow, deliberate motion that had you seeing stars. You clung to him, your nails digging into his back as he worked you, his thumb circling your sensitive spot, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

“God, you feel so good,” he groaned, his voice strained with restraint. “I don’t think I’ll be able to stop…”

“Then don’t”, Your breath came in ragged gasps, your body trembling beneath him, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable level. And just when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, he pulled his fingers away, leaving you aching and desperate for more.

You let out a frustrated whimper, but Drew silenced you with a heated kiss, his body pressing down against yours as he positioned himself between your thighs. The moment stretched out, the anticipation crackling in the air, before he finally pushed inside you, filling you completely. You gasped, your head falling back against the pillows as the sensation overwhelmed you.

Drew groaned low in his throat, his hands gripping your hips as he began to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate at first, teasing you, making you crave more. Your hands slid up his back, your nails digging into his skin as you urged him to go faster, your body meeting his with every thrust.

The pleasure built quickly, each movement sending waves of ecstasy coursing through you. Drew’s pace quickened, his breathing ragged in your ear as he drove you both closer and closer to the edge. Your body was a live wire, every nerve ending on fire as he pushed you higher, the pressure building inside you until it was almost unbearable.

“Drew,” you gasped, your voice trembling with need.

He responded with a deep groan, his thrusts becoming more erratic, more desperate as he chased his own release. And then, with one final, powerful thrust, you shattered, pleasure crashing over you like a tidal wave, your body trembling beneath him as you cried out his name.

Drew followed soon after, his body tensing above you as he found his own release, a deep groan of satisfaction rumbling in his chest. He collapsed beside you, both of you panting, your bodies slick with sweat, still reeling from the intensity of it all.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the room filled only with the sound of your ragged breathing. Then Drew turned to you, a lazy, satisfied smile playing on his lips as he reached out, pulling you against his chest.

“I think I’m gonna need your room number more often,” he murmured, his voice thick with exhaustion and contentment.

You laughed softly, your body still buzzing from the aftermath of everything that had just happened. “I think I can arrange that.”

With that, you curled up against him, your head resting on his chest, your heart still racing as you drifted off into a deep, dreamless sleep, the feeling of Drew’s arms wrapped around you the last thing you remembered. 

And just like that, as you drifted into sleep, one thought lingered:

"Sometimes, love isn’t about chasing a fairy tale or clinging to the past. It’s about embracing the unexpected, even if it’s wrapped in a Loewe suit and a pair of smoldering eyes that see right through you."

TMZ_TV : Last night’s Loewe show was nothing short of spectacular! From jaw-dropping designs to unforgettable moments, the runway was on fire. 🔥

🌟 Y/N L/N stunned in a custom Loewe creation by Jonathan Anderson, embodying elegance and innovation. Meanwhile, Drew Starkey’s sleek Loewe suit had everyone talking.

👀 The real buzz? The chemistry between them at the afterparty! The night was filled with high fashion and even higher drama. 💫

Swipe to see the highlights and catch up on the latest fashion gossip! 💃🕺

────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ───────

I am very nervous!! Hope you liked it and i did not disappoint you...

[choerypetal]

Little Accidents / Paul Atreides

Summary: Paul's obliviousness was soon shattered when frequent visits to the nursing room revealed the true essence of love at first sight.

Ps: This is a short fluff I had in mind, but I hope you enjoy and also english isn't my first language so bare with minimal errors, (once upload i always make sure to update now my works, if there is any errors) Enjoy! XOXO

As the heir of the Atreides' House, Paul effortlessly following in his father's esteemed footsteps. He possesses an acute sense of ownership, ensuring he's well aware of everything under his purview. Whether it's news of your battle injuries or workplace mishaps, Paul is always the first to know, abandoning any prior engagements to rush to your aid. While you're being tended to, his concern is palpable; his eyes scan for any signs of harm as he utters all while using the voice. ‘Where?’ This gesture of worry has become familiar, a reassurance you've grown accustomed to, especially when your visits to the infirmary often serve as an excuse to steal moments with him. ‘Dropped a weapon on my foot,’ you explain with a hint of ruefulness, ‘guess my impatience got the better of me, inadvertently knocking out one of the armories. Pity.’

Indeed, quite a pity. Paul couldn't help but notice your composure, devoid of any telltale signs of injury. It either seemed that the nurse had efficiently tended to you before his arrival—a stroke of luck, perhaps. However, Paul wasn't fooled; this wasn't the first time you'd urgently summoned him to the infirmary. Today, he harbored suspicions that you might finally reveal the true reason behind your frequent visits. “If you'd prefer I refrain from using the Voice," he remarked, a hint of seriousness in his tone, "you'll need to be more forthcoming than simply labeling it an accident, my dear."

However, you eventually reassured the head nurse, explaining that it was merely a minor issue requiring attention. Your heart fluttered with a mixture of nerves and affection as Paul insisted on tending to your wounds himself, rather than delegating the task to anyone else. As the room cleared, leaving just the two of you alone, Paul attempted to devise a plausible excuse while discreetly observing your work. This added another layer of challenge for him, yet he remained determined to keep a watchful eye on you. “Now tell,” A pregnant pause was felt soon as he sat next to you. “How I am suppose to know, that there is probably more reason than just a visit at the nursery?” 

You find yourself drawn in by his innocence, but observing Paul working alongside his father and their associates, it becomes evident that innocence was not his defining trait anymore. In fact, there's a possibility he understands more than he lets on. Maybe he's even willing to engage in the game you're playing. You nonchalantly dismiss any concerns, offering the excuse that you're just adding a bit of spice to the situation. However, Paul's reaction suggests that perhaps it's not the right moment to discuss such matters, especially anything related to the Spice itself.

Paul tilted his head, almost taking offense at your attempt at humor. Despite his awareness of your desire to spend more time alone with him, he understood that convincing him to stay a little longer each time wasn't as simple as it seemed. Even if his attempts at pampering you, like tending to invisible wounds that morphed into cuddle sessions, were charming, he recognized that your discussions about the 'Spice' were more about politics than relaxation. Poor thing– that was all he knew about out. This realization led to a soft chuckle from you, followed by an apology for bringing up the topic. However, Paul dismissed your apology, urging you not to discuss such matters, especially around him, as he couldn't help but wonder why you frequented the nursing room more often than before. “Now tell me, or I might just become as impatient as you’ll be when demanding kisses..”

His voice trailed off, almost seductive when Paul was right about to expose this little game of yours. Instantly you could feel his lip curve slightly into a smirk as he saw your expression, your eyes winding in shock, trying your very best to obliged. That you were the one who meant to shock Paul out of his work for some time but, perhaps you were indeed right about your wonders. That in fact, Paul knew that the exact reasons why you obliged yourself to the nursing room more often than ever. Only to find out, it was to spend more time with him. But Paul being himself, being the type of guy that he is, did not to confess his wrong at first or to be completely oblivious. After all– he is the duke’s son. 

"So, let me get this straight," Paul Atreides began, his tone tinged with a mixture of disbelief and introspection. "I, Paul Atreides, am so easily ensnared by your little charade? It's rather disheartening, truth be told." There was a hint of a pout on his lips as he contemplated your adeptness at expressing your desires, though he couldn't entirely fault you for it. With the constant demands of dealing with the Harkonnens and managing CHOAM affairs, finding time for you had become more challenging than he and you had anticipated. 

Unlike his parents, whose marriage was purely political, Paul had chosen a different path, one where your presence held a significance beyond mere political alliances. For him, building a future within the confines of the Atreides' House with you by his side was a deeply personal and cherished desire. Material wealth could wait; what mattered most was the connection he shared with you. With a sigh, he reached out to gently caress your cheek, a silent acknowledgment of your correctness all along. Perhaps it was time to prioritize his own happiness, even if it meant putting paperwork aside momentarily. "Maybe you're onto something," he admitted, his voice softening. "Perhaps you’re right, perhaps it's time for me to take a break from the endless bureaucracy and spend some quality time together. After all, even I need to unwind–."

Paul's words carried a weight of remorse rarely heard, especially within the esteemed Atreides family. As he neared the end of his sentence, you leaned in swiftly, feeling the soft brush of his lips against yours in a lingering kiss. The longing shared between you both was palpable, though circumstances often made indulgence impractical, intensifying the desire even more. When Paul finally pulled away, he gently nibbled at your lower lip, a playful chuckle escaping him at the sudden surge of hunger between the two of you. There was an undeniable yearning to touch, caress, and love you. "Perhaps I'll request a day off," he murmured, his voice laced with a hint of promise. “Perhaps you will.” You both end up chuckling as he cups your face, his eyes gazing from your eyes to your lips. Paul confessed once more,

“And perhaps, we don't always have to use the excuse of happy accidents, so I can exile from paperwork every now and then.” 

[ginnysgraffiti]

jealousy, unprotected sex, violence, anger, cursing, fingering, fainting, 18+

&. PAUL ATREIDES x yn

could you blame yourself?

no, not really.

not the way you claimed it, at least.

you always placed so much trust and respect in the visions that paul witnessed in his dreams, for they usually concerned the holy war or future events not clear to his complete awareness yet.

however, you never expected something like this.

you couldn't say exactly if it was due to the fact that you and paul had established an increasingly stronger connection and intimacy, but you were sure that it was definitely because of other factors.

paul and his intuitions had been (disturbingly) accurate for weeks, and your boyfriend was even able to see your sexual needs in his visions.

you liked it, yes. it turned you on like hell, and you knew it had the exact effect on him.

you recognized paul's gaze when he had visions of that kind, you glimpsed it through his hungry eyes and you experienced it when his strong hands destroyed your body.

you lived with a certain constant tension, but your inner self knew that you just wanted that moment to come.

"shut that fuck up! take my cock like the slut you are!!" paul's hand slapped your butt, causing a bitter tear to fall from your face.

this excited him greatly and with his other arm he twisted your legs around his waist, making you arch your back to welcome his wet and warm dick as deeply as you could.

you didn't know if it was your fault, but paul was so furious he would have swallowed you alive.

"look at me in my eyes, damn it! or do you want me to call him, uh? to call your beloved feyd rautha and make him fuck you like i do!?"

"paul-"

yet another thrust of his hips brought your hip bones to clash painfully with each other.

you left a loud and pleading moan but his quick fingers choked you in time and reduced it to a pathetic strangled scream.

"who's the one who touches herself while feyd's name slips down her tongue?! her damn fucking tongue! uh?!"

"p-...paul it was just y-y...your vision-"

deadly move.

the bed creaked and for a moment you imagined the springs surrendering to its bloody rhythm.

your boyfriend grabbed your hair mercilessly, almost detaching them from the roots, while his cock was destroying your inner walls beyond limit.

you were crying, but you were just choking on your own moans and sobs, like a sinful child.

it was just a vision, in fact...but now he was going so rough and raw that crying more made you feel real slut.

your sight was still granted to you, even if your retinas were caged in tears as hot as spice.

you could see him, see your boyfriend taking your pussy with a heavenly expression on your face, perhaps the one you wore in his dirty visions.

his mouth was wide open with pleasure and his eyes closed with excitement. he moved his hips for his own burning pleasure, making you aching, sore and wet all in.

"i don't know what would turn me on more, maybe you really deserve to end up in his maniacal arms! you would regret it of course, but it would be too late to go back!!"

you wished somebody could hear you for your own sake.

the wet and sticky tip of his cock was roaming roughly inside you, but the initial pleasure had reduced you to an unbearable burning sensation. you could feel your chest confiding with every sob, but his hands would travel again, landing on your throat already full of purple, almost black bruises.

"you're so soaked, you little whore. you don't even deserve it, on my sheets!!" he groaned, his own anger causing every vein to pump on the smooth skin of his neck, making him there red with anger every time the jugular pumped before your eyes.

he grunted like an animal too proud for the zoo. he wanted to destroy you until you couldn't stand up anymore.

humiliation.

you could feel his tip reaching the deepest places. you knew that paul didn't care about protections in these extreme cases (even if it was the first time he was so out of it), thus implying that he would even risk pregnancy to satisfy his dick to the point of nausea.

"you hold on too well-"

you held the sheets for dear life when you felt him pushing away but replacing his sex with one of his agile fingers between your sores.

you gasped as he pecked at all the soft spots of yours. he knew too damn well you were too vulnerable and breakable when it came to his experienced hands.

at the same time you knew how much effort would be required of him to make you suffer precisely, hoping he would get tired.

"so fucking sensitive-"

he inserted another finger, moving at an exorbitant speed. you could feel your wetness even reaching his wrist.

ashamed again.

"p-paul-...i beg-"

he entered you using his thumb to reach your clit.

you moaned as he lapped at your walls, sliding his sizzling tongue into the heat.

he raised his lips sucking greedily, sliding two fingers in once more.

his grunts made everything wetter.

your body came moaning and shaking, your eyes rolling back.

you whimpered as you felt his cock filling you up, preventing you from coming any further.

"p-...paul, you know you're...the only one i love! a vision doesn't mean anything! i-...i- had always loved you, you're the boy of my life, the one who always had all his trust posted about me. so i ask you praying...believe me..."

your boyfriend moved one inch, hitting your weakest and most stimulated point.

you could feel a slight gag rising in your sore and dry throat as the last bit of lucidity left your body in a deep sleep.

(...)

when you wake up a strong pang pierced your forehead, making the room square and moving around you.

paul was curled up on you, not completely resting on you so that his weight didn't give you even more trouble regaining consciousness.

his white and puffy cheek was resting on your bare breasts, a hint of saliva at the sides of his red and swollen mouth.

you couldn't move so you didn't even try, until you felt something holding you back.

paul was lightly sleeping thanks to a bene gesserit relaxation technique, you could now sense that he was completely alert and attentive to your needs.

his delicate hand was hugging your wrist, listening to your heartbeat since you had probably passed out.

he was making sure you were able to breathe normally.

you assumed he had been in that position since the moment you fainted.

you knew that in the end, he loved you more than anything on that planet.

you were his duchess already.

[starlightsuffered]

The Smart Rosier

Warnings- smut, unprotected sex, slut shaming, name calling and trash talk during sex, oral (male receiving), dom male, spitting in mouth, teasing, mentions of alcohol, publish sex, mentions of masturbation, mentions of drugs, calling male Master, begging, dry humping, rough sex, choking, hair pulling, mouth fucking, desperate, fucking in front of a mirror

Pairing - Regulus Black/Fem!Reader Rosier

I knocked back a firewhisky. Evan looked at me in admiration.

"You didn't even make a face," he said in awe. He had, had too much of the plant that someone had snuck from the Herbology Green House.

"Yeah, it's almost like I like to party," I chuckled. Every weekend my cousin seemed to forget I was the queen of partying. He was such a lightweight.

"By the way," Evan said. "I need to give you your weekly reminder."

"I'm so fucking sick of this," I snapped, grabbing another shot.

"I can't trust you, you've run through half of Slytherin house," he snapped.

"Slut shaming much," I said, downing the alcohol.

"Not shaming, just begging. Please don't fuck my best friend," he said.

"Why do you give a shit," I hedged. To be honest, Regulus Black was the finest Slytherin in the whole house. I'd had a crush on him for ages.

"You're gonna make him obsessed with you. He'll never want to talk to me again," he complained.

"You whine too much," I snapped, as I stood up to dance. I went to the dance floor. I was moving my hips, and feeling myself. Suddenly, I felt hands on my waist.

"Hello?" I asked, in a sultry tone. I turned to see him. Regulus Black.

"I don't often see you at these parties," I said with a smirk.

"Maybe I saw something that caught my eye," he purred. He was gorgeous. Emerald robes, black curls, a sexy smirk. How was I meant to resist? It was impossible.

"You know, my cousin says to stay away from you," I said.

"Do you wanna listen to Rosier?"

"I'm a Rosier too you know," | chuckled.

"Yes, but you're the smart one," he said.

"Well, all I know is, I wanna feel you," I said, as I pressed a hand against his chest. "Whatever you'll give me, I want it."

"Come to the bathroom with me," he ordered. I was more than happy to oblige.

"You tease me all the time," he growled at me, when he got me alone.

"Hmmm, does it bother you? Do I bother Regulus Black when I wear tiny skirts? Do I bother the Slytherin Quidditch Captain when I dance? Do I bother the Head Boy when I lick my lips slowly at dinner? So important. A Black, even a pure blood, yet I have you whipped."

He was taking deep breathes, as though he could hardly handle what I said.

"You should be taught a lesson," he snarled.

"By all means," I bowed. "Teach me."

I was slammed against the door roughly. He was giving me a hard bruising kiss. His hand was on my jaw, holding it open. He spat into my mouth, and I took it gladly. His hand moved down to my throat as he ground his clothed length against me. I moaned.

"You're such a slut aren't you, I bet you think of me all the time and you touch yourself," he snapped.

"How did you know," I said after he released my throat.

"Running through the whole year, but never me huh?"

"Saving the best for last," I replied.

"Clothes off," he demanded. I swished my wand and I was naked before him. I could see his hardness through his robes.

"What a pretty little cock whore," he smirked. "All your good for is to be used."

I nodded, and fell to my knees. I could tell he liked my willing nature."From now on, your mine, you're not going to touch anyone else, understood?"

"Yes master," | agreed, and I heard him moan at the name.

"I rather like that coming from you," he said as he waved his wand so that he was also naked. His cock stood at attention, veiny and long, I was salivating. I took him into my mouth.

"Eager," he ground out as I bobbed my head. He was gripping the sink, hissing in pleasure. My tongue circled the head of his cock expertly. His hand grabbed my hair hard, so that tears pricked my eyes. He was thrusting into my mouth now. Suddenly, he stopped.

"Get up," he demanded. He whirled me around, so now I was gripping the sink.

"Look at you," he said. I looked in the green studded mirror. My mascara was running from the tears in my eyes, saliva dripped down my chin, my hair was in tangles from his hands.

"Suck a good slut," he said, hands running down my form from behind. They reached my heat and he chuckled.

"You're dripping darling," he said before beginning to put pressure on my clit.

"Please, Regulus," | begged. His fingers danced around the sensitive bundle of nerves. He was absolutely infuriating, but I would wait it out. Anything to have him fully at some point.

Just then I felt the tip of his cock at my entrance. He was still teasing! Pushing his tip in, only to remove it. Tears of desperation stung in my eyes.

"Apologize," he whispered in my ear before kissing my neck. "Apologize for all the things you've put me through."

"I'm so, oh Regulus, I'm so sorry. Please forgive me," | blubbered.

"Now I wanna hear you beg," he said cruelly.

"Please Regulus, I want your cock. I want you to fill me, Regulus, Master, please," I pleaded.

"More," he said, and grabbed one of my tits roughly, kneading the flesh.

"Please Regulus, impale me with your cock. I wanna be full. I want you inside me. I can't live if you don't fuck me right now. I'd die to have your cock in me. Please!"

"Alright darling," he said, and finally pushed into me. I screamed in pleasure, and Regulus didn't seem interested in quieting me.

"The whole party is going to know how good I make you feel," he laughed as he began to thrust in and out.

"You're so big, ah," I was white knuckling the sink as he slammed into me. I couldn't believe the spots he was hitting. I felt like I was on a whole other plane of existence.

"Has anyone else ever fucked you this good?" He demanded as he kept up his ungodly speed.

"Never," was all I could get out. He began to massage my nipples, bringing me even more thrills of sensation.

"Fuck, Regulus, you're a God!" I whimpered as he thrust into me.

"That's right I am," he said and his hand went up to my neck, and put pressure on it.

"Watch yourself darling, watch yourself come undone."

His words nearly had my eyes rolling back into my head, but I did as he commanded. He was a dark figure behind me, an expression of pure lust on his face. His hand dropped from my neck to my clit and I was shaking.

My orgasm washed over me, and I lost all control, screaming his name and seeing white. I was vaguely aware of him cursing and cumming inside me. When I came down, his cum was dripping down my thighs.

"That was so good," I panted, legs wobbly. We used our wands to clean up and walked out. Evan was waiting for me, arms crossed, a furious expression on his face.

"Sorry cousin," I said patting his cheek. "Your best friend has a great cock."

[svnaaaaaa]

thanks!

wow, was all i could say. i would like to say thank you for the support of my lando one shot. it was beyond my expectations. i wish it has the same reactions with my timmy's series though.

nevertheless, i am happy with both outcomes and it will inspires me to write more and more because i do enjoy writing it.

so thanks again for the support of both my timmy and lando writings.

[crescenthistory]

hi pookie!! it was actually my birthday a few days ago and i was wondering if maybe you could write a regulus x reader fic where it's reader's birthday? (prompt b.12) if not, that's totally fine! take ur time bub :))

~🍓

i'm usually not a birthday fic kinda gal, but i'll make an exception for you my love<33 i hope you had a super birthday the other day, sending you big bday hugs!

Words: 1.3k

Warnings: not proofread, fem!reader, slightly suggestive (implied aftercare), kissing, toothrotting fluff, wolfstar reference, implied black family trauma (super brief)

Your chest is still slightly damp beneath Regulus' t-shirt that he gave you about twenty minutes ago, but your breath is coming at slow, regular intervals again. The dorm around you is wonderfully empty, Barty and Evan banished for the night, which they only reluctantly agreed to when you gave them a “it’s my birthday tomorrow and I want to wake up with my boyfriend” pout. It feels private, intimate, in a way you relish in.

Here, curled up against Regulus’ chest with your fingers tracing constellations between the moles on his fair skin, is the first comfort you have felt all week. The kind that sinks into the bone and warms you through winter. His sheets are warm too where they are draped across your forms, and you feel increasingly like one singular being, heartbeats synced.

His lips are tracing faint butterfly kisses across your hairline and forehead, absentmindedly, as if it’s second nature to him by now. Maybe it is.

This is all you needed.

“What are you thinking about, amour?” His breath fans across your face as he murmurs against your skin.

“You.” The word is spoken around curved lips and you feel his begin to match yours as he hums contently into your hair. “How nice this is.”

“It’s been a hectic week for you, hasn’t it?” he says, voice laced with empathy and understanding.

You just hum in response, burying your face deeper into his shoulder. You begin kissing at the skin you find there, light and soft in comparison to the passionate ones you shared earlier. It feels right to have both, like your heart is being completed.

“So good. You’re so good,” he whispers adoringly, and while you don’t know if he is referring to your handling of said week or something else, you’re fairly certain you’ll accept any and all praise slipping from his lips.

You tilt your head up to look at his eyes and find them already gazing at you. Regulus’ hand comes up to brush over the side of your face, from your temple to your cheekbone and jaw. “Yeah?” you ask through a smile. 

He breathes out something akin to a laugh and whispers back, “Yeah. The best.”

Stretching your neck only slightly, you lean up to give him a soft and delectably slow kiss, savouring the feeling of his lips between yours. He reciprocates in full, humming against you when you support some of your weight with a hand on his chest. You feel his heartbeat beneath it and burrow your fingertips deeper, as if in search of it.

“Do you have anything specific you want to do tomorrow?” Regulus muses when you separate and you begin pressing kisses along his jaw and cheek instead.

“Nothing at all. Not leaving this room.” While your heart means it, your mind is a more logical being and thus doesn’t, so your words come out with a slight laugh, a joke at how stupidly good it would have been.

“Hiding out from the world with me?” A cheeky grin before he captures your lips with his again briefly. “Sounds like the best birthday ever.”

Supporting your own weight isn’t ideal when you’re still a tad worn out, so you lay down with your head on his shoulder again and he runs his hand comfortingly up and down your arm when he feels it shaking. You keep your eyes on his though, head tilted up with a look that contains more worry than Regulus cares for.

“I still have to do quite a bit of reading for my History of Magic project,” you say in the same tone as someone would use to convey their life sentence in prison. “So I’m going to have to hole up in the library for quite a while tomorrow, birthday be damned.”

Regulus cannot fight the tsk-ing sound that escapes him as he frowns in sympathy. “I’m no expert on the perfect birthday, but I’m quite certain that’s not in the recipe.”

“I know,” you groan, burying your head into his flesh. “I know, but I have to.”

“You have to do no such thing, pretty girl.” He kisses the top of your head to coax you back out from hiding. “Don’t think about the project tomorrow, I’ll help you get back into it the day after.”

“Absolutely not,” you try, but you recognise the look in his eyes as one you are rarely able to defeat. “Reggie, baby, you have enough on my plate.”

“Yet the most important thing on it is you.” He says it almost fiercely, passionately, but when you lift a smug brow at him at his unintended double meaning, he jokingly swats at you. “Don’t sully my declaration of love, you heathen. I’m saying I’ve got you.”

You kiss him part in apology and part selfishly because his lips jutted out enticingly when he pretend pouted. “I know, and I love you for it, but you can’t help me with that big of a project baby, you just can’t.”

“There is no such rule in the boyfriend handbook,” Regulus says solemnly, as if reciting scripture. In theory, he technically is because when Regulus first opened up to Sirius about his anxiety of ruining things with you, the older boy made the ugliest homebound book titled How To Be A Good Boyfriend When Your Parents Fucked You Up Real Bad.

When Regulus questioned Sirius’ expertise on the matter, he said Remus made it based on all the missteps Sirius already had made in their relationship.

“Maybe not,” you reply. “But you forget the first rule: a girlfriend’s word is always more important than any silly rule in any stupid handbook.”

Regulus rolls you over onto your back so he can attack your neck with kisses, likely because he had no actual argument against that. “Querulous girl,” he made out between kisses but your laughter drowned him out.

When he came back up to hover his face above yours, bicep flexing beside your head as he held himself up, his hair was somehow even more messed up than before and oh so pretty. His eyes too, filled to the brim with love and humour, softening as he saw the clear flash of admiration across your own face.

“Let me spoil you,” he whispers, kissing your cheeks, your eyes, your forehead, your nose. “You deserve it, amour. You deserve everything.” 

You thought you heard a small “I don’t deserve you” muttered when he kissed your head, but you couldn’t be certain. Nonetheless you brought his face into your hands to press a resounding kiss to his lips to shut down any such stupid thoughts.

“I love you, you know.” Your smile was blinding, but Regulus looked good in the light.

“I know,” he whispers back. “I love you. And I am not letting you sit in the library on your birthday, no matter how many cute dates we’ve had there. Tomorrow is about you – nothing matters but you.”

Tears almost well in your eyes, but you blink them away. Your voice is still watery when you whisper a soft, “Okay.”

“Okay?” A grin starts to form over his previously soft smile. He gives you no time to respond before his lips sweep down to catch yours once more.

He captures your bottom lip between his two, swiping his tongue slowly across and breathing a soft sigh into your mouth as you allow him access. Leaning more of his weight on you, he continues to deepen the kiss, feeling you completely, as he has so many times before and as he will again.

You aren’t certain when it was you fell asleep, time floating around you like soap bubbles, irrelevant but beautiful in its presence nonetheless. What you do know, is that when you fall asleep it is with your body held close to his. And that when you woke up, it was to soft kisses across your face and a “happy birthday, amour” whispered in your ear.

[holly-the-trash-writer]

An honest mistake on TV leads to you and Timothée going back and forth on Instagram

Timothèe Chalamet x Famous!Reader

Face Claim Jenna Ortega

A/n I love social media AUs.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

alllthingsy/n

Liked by y/nnnnnn and 1,734 others

allthingsy/n In Y/n's autocomplete interview she said her biggest celeb crush is Timothee Chalamet. Like. Gurl same. 😍

View all 643 comments

rosiecheeks She was so cute in that interview 🥹

y/nqueen I feel like I know so much more about her now

holllyaddams She's just like ussssss

timotheeee I'd die for him ngl

y/nlife Why do I ship it?

celebgossip

Liked by tchalametttt and 32,827 others

celebgossip Timothée Chalamet on The Late Late Show admits he doesn't know who Y/n L/n is. When asked about her recent admittance that he is her celeb crush, the Little Women actor replied with "Who dat?" A little bit awkward for Miss L/n.

View all 1,834 comments

hannahbee He said it and laughed, he wasnt being rude???? Ppl make shit from nothing

rihannaisbae Please. She does two movies and thinks she's the shit.

ryanslife Exactly. Who tf is she?

y/nnn Star of the Number 1 show on Netflix rn?????? Stop clowning 🤡

bibaby He better be playin 💀😭

sarahwicks he be lying for the clout stg

itsgiving She's at home crying rn

Texts Between Zendaya and Timothée

yourinstagram

Liked by zendaya, florencepugh and 11,245,175 others

yourinstagram Do you know me now? @.elle

View all 83,384 comments

elle 🩷🩷

arianagrande ❤️‍🔥

melissabarrera That's my sister 🥹😍

Liked by yourinstagram

jack_quaid I think you'll find I'M the scream queen

yourinstagram You the ✨️drama✨️ queen

scream21fan She really said do you know me now 👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾 we stann

y/nismother Not her calling out Timmy 💀

y/nstann I'm SCREAMING

timmyfan @.tchalamet @.tchalamet

britney.bitch 🩷Barbie🩷Era🩷

randomguy32 @.tchalamet

Texts Between Florence Pugh and Timothée

tchalamet

Liked by yourinstagram, florencepugh and 5,328,754 others

tchalamet Hi Barbie👋🏻🩷

View all 5,734 comments

user194 Guysssssss is this beefing or is this flirting?!

user92 This is flirting 💯

user724 Have they even met each other? He said he doesn't know Y/n???

elle 🩷🩷

user23 @.elle ships it

florencepugh A King 😍

Liked by tchalamet

tomholland2013 Real men wear pink

Liked by tchalamet

user847 No such thing as coincidence

user1748 This is a response to Y/n we ALL know it!!!!

user01 Y/n's in the likes!! 🚨🚨

user9374 @.yourinstagram @.yourinstagram

Posted on tchalamet IG story 1min Ago.

melissaandy/n

Liked by user91843 and 1,837 others

melissaandy/n I'm losing my MIND. Melissa posted this on her story a week after Timothee Chalamet posted him standing in front of Y/n's Wednesday poster. WHATS HAPPENING?!?!

View all 827 comments

user8273 I don't get it???

user61535 Dune is Timothees movie

user8273 Yeah but what's happening???

user16 Basically. Y/n said Timothee was her celeb crush. When Tim got asked about her he said Who dat. Y/n posted her Elle cover and said Do you know me now? And THEN Tim posted two pics of him in pink suits saying Hi Barbie (Y/ns Elle shoot was in pink) AND THEN Tim took a pic of him in front of a Wednesday poster saying Ever feel like the universe is tryna tell you something? Me either. And now we're here. No one knows if they beefing or joking

user177 Previously on.... 🤣🤣🤣

user8883 I'm soooo here for this

user0374 I can't put my damn phone down

user1273 No but seriously... are they beefing or no?

user1736 Nahhh. This is pure banter

user8174 agreed.

user8827 Totally. They're making a big joke out of it

[theghostinyourwalls]

More blood please

[gh0stsp1d3r]

I’ve just seen Wonka AND IT WAS GREAT HONESTLY and if you’re taking requests I have an idea

So in the 2005 version, Wonka’s father is a dentist, right? Well, what if, in the 2023 version, he starts to crush on y/n, who is the daughter of a dentist? He tries to get her attention with chocolate flowers and such, but she doesn’t eat candy so none of his tricks work on her. He’s kinda obsessive but in a cute way, like he won’t give up until she notices him.

𝒩ℴ𝓉 𝒶 𝒻𝒶𝓃

A/N- , this is genius kinda changed it up a lil hope you don’t mind );

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬t

The second you saw the man at the gallery while strolling outside, you stopped with a quirked eyebrow.

This was the chocolate a lot of your patients had started eating, causing a ton of cavities. Maybe you’ll just stop by and see what everyone’s talking about.

You walked into the gallery, and towards the colorful exterior. You entered with a heavy sigh, okay, it looked better than you expected.

“Hello, Ma’am. Welcome to Wonkas, Would you like to try our new-“

“No thanks.” You looked at the man talking, he was dressed in a top hat with little curls peaking underneath, an interesting coat, and a cane.

“Alright. Let me know if there’s anything you need.” He said with a wide smile. And Willy didn’t show it, but the second you stepped in he was in awe.

You were beautiful. And in his opinion, the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen. He was attractive in your eyes, but you pushed those thoughts down.

“Actually, do you happen to know where the owner is..?”

“You’re looking at him.”

“Oh..! I just wanted to.. ask some questions, if that’s alright.” You started.

“Ask away!" he said excitedly.

"May I ask what you put in your chocolates...? I'm a dentist, and I was just curious as to what everyone is getting cavities over."

He nodded, "Well, depends on what we're talking about. I got giraffes milk in all of them, then cocoa beans. Then my hover-chocs have hoverfly eggs." he rambled on.

You looked at the man, confused and interested.

"That's interesting... You're a strange man, Mr. Wonka." You said with a small laugh.

"Willy."

"I'm sorry?"

"Sorry, Willys my first name." He laughed, not being used to being called his last name.

"Right, of course. I'm Y/N."

"Pleased to meet you. Do you work at the office down the road?"

You nodded and smiled, and by the time you bid your farewell, he was already head over heels.

He had ran into you the next day as well, he called it an odd coincidence. He suddenly pulled a chocolate flower out from his hat, you smiled as he tried to hand it to you.

"Sorry, Willy. I don't eat chocolate." you shrugged. His eyes widened, and he tucked it away.

"Don't like chocolate?" He said, feigning offense as he held a hand on his heart.

“Just not a fan.”

He sighed. He'll steal your heart one way or another.

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

A couple days later, the receptionist calls you on your break. You head up to see a basket, a small teddy bear and chocolates stuffed in them.

You had a good idea of who it came from.

You smiled slightly at it, the receptionist began to tease but you rolled your eyes and laughed, taking it back to the break room.

You opened up the letter he left, a smile on your face as you read.

"Y/n, I know you're not a fan of chocolate or sweets or whatever, but I am hoping these will change your mind. These are zero-sugar, dark chocolate bars I made just for you, I tried to make them taste better than some other healthy ones. Let me know how they are." he had written down, with a small smiley face after that.

You smiled at the thoughtfulness of it, taking it out the wrapper and eating it. It was delicious, you'll give him that.

[iamgonnagetyouback]

𝟷𝚔 || 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐒

♡ ︎ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: You couldn't handle the fame that came with dating Timothée.

♡ ︎ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: Angst with happy ending, Mean comments on social media, hurt/comfort

♡ ︎ꜱʜɪᴘ: Timothée Chalamet x reader

You never signed up for this. The flashing cameras, the invasive questions, the harsh headlines—you didn’t want any of it. You were just an ordinary person who had fallen in love with someone extraordinary.

But now, all of that was shattered.

The pictures had been plastered all over the internet overnight. You and Timothée, walking together in what you thought was a quiet, private moment. He was holding your hand, laughing at something you said, and the warmth between you was evident in every frame. Except now, it was a spectacle for the world to dissect.

"Timothée's Secret Girlfriend Exposed!" "Who Is She? Is She Just a Fling?" "Is Timothée Chalamet Hiding His New Love?"

Your phone was blowing up with notifications from friends, family, and strangers alike. The comments on social media were brutal. People were either attacking your looks, your past, or questioning why someone like him would ever be with someone like you.

And Timothée was silent. No statements, no comments. Nothing.

That night, you sat on the edge of your bed, staring at your phone, reading the cruel words again and again. You knew he wasn’t ignoring you, but it still stung.

Why wasn’t he saying anything? Why wasn’t he protecting you?

Your heart clenched as you texted him:

"I can’t do this anymore. It’s too much. I’m sorry, Timmy."

It wasn’t long before your doorbell rang.

When you opened the door, there he was. Timothée, in the same clothes you’d last seen him in, out of breath like he had run all the way here. His eyes were wild with concern, pain flickering behind them as they scanned your face.

“You’re breaking up with me? Just like that?” His voice cracked slightly, but he was trying to hold it together.

Your throat tightened. “I’m sorry. I can’t handle this, Timmy. It’s too much. The hate, the rumors, the… everything. I’m not built for this world of yours.”

Tears welled in his eyes as he stepped closer. "You think I care about that? About them? You mean everything to me, and I’ve been trying to figure out how to protect you from all this. I just… I didn’t know how. I didn’t want to make it worse."

You backed up, overwhelmed by your emotions, shaking your head. “It’s not about what you want. It’s about what I can handle, and I can’t handle being ripped apart by people who don’t even know me. Every time I go online, I see people saying I don’t deserve you, that I’m just some random girl. And you—you haven’t even said anything.”

He swallowed hard, his voice hoarse. “I didn’t want to make a statement because I thought it would just drag you further into the spotlight. But you’re right, I should’ve said something. I was selfish, I was scared of losing you, and in trying to protect you, I hurt you.”

Your chest tightened as the tears began to fall. “It’s too late, Timmy.”

“No, please, don’t say that,” he whispered, stepping forward to take your hands in his. His grip was warm and pleading. “I’m going to fix this. I’ll do whatever it takes. I’ll tell the world about us, tell them how much you mean to me. I’ll stand up for you.”

“I don’t want to be famous, Timmy. I just want to be with you.”

He nodded frantically, his hands shaking as he held you. “Then we’ll do it quietly. We’ll move away if we have to. I don’t care what it takes, just please don’t leave me. I can’t lose you.”

You looked into his eyes, the love there breaking through the walls you’d been trying so hard to put up. “I’m scared.”

“I am too,” he admitted, his voice trembling. “But I promise, I’ll never let you face this alone again. You’re not just some girl to me. You’re everything.”

His words shattered the last of your defenses. You collapsed into his arms, sobbing into his chest as he held you tight, whispering over and over, "I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry."

The next morning, Timothée made a statement on Instagram.

"To those asking, yes, I'm in love. She's not a celebrity, and that doesn’t make her any less important. She's my world, and I will not stand by while she's attacked and torn down by people who don’t know her. We are happy, and that’s all that matters."

As you read it, you felt a weight lift. It wasn’t going to be easy, but at least you weren’t facing it alone anymore.

And that made all the difference.

thank you so much for the request @idkchosseyou !!

[roxygen22]

FAMILY BUSINESS

"My Little Cocoa Bean" Series

Willy was absolutely smitten by his "little cocoa bean," Benjamin. You called him Ben for short, but Willy affectionately called him Bean. He stayed home from the factory for a bit to help you recover and bond with the baby. He made the most of his limited time off doting on you both. Unless Ben was feeding, he was in Willy's arms. He was truly a devoted, loving father and husband.

Willy went back to work when Ben was about three weeks old. It was an adjustment to be alone with the baby all day, but it made Willy's returns in the evening all the more sweeter. After about six months, he came home with an idea.

"Now that he is a little older and more sturdy, why don't I take Bean with me to work one or two days a week so that you can have some time to yourself?" Willy not-so-secretly struggled going back to work, often lamenting how much he missed you both, but he knew he had to provide for his family.

"Oh my. I love the concept, but how are you going to handle business or have your hands free to make chocolate?" you asked as it took both of your hands to keep Ben from launching himself out of your lap to get to his papa.

"Easy!" Willy exclaimed as he scooped up the baby. "I saw Lottie today, and she had little Georgie tied to her chest with a wrap. Then it clicked - I could do that, too! Besides, babies are good for business! He's so cute, he'll draw a crowd," he mused as he squished his nose against Ben's chubby cheek, then turned to you with a pouty lip.

"I guess we could give it a try. Maybe start with a half day?" you said, excited about the potential but nervous about its execution. You loved your husband, but you were not sure he fully understood what he was in for. You did, however, always admire his determination to get what he wanted in life, even if he resorted to playing on your sympathies with a pout.

"Great! I already went by the store to get fabric to make a sling." You shook your head fondly and went about your evening routine.

Thanks to his mamma's teachings, Willy was handy with a needle and thread. A couple of nights later, his contraption was ready for testing at home. Ben was quite cozy snuggled up on his father's chest, gently babbling while Willy washed the dishes after dinner. Everything was going swimmingly. "Tomorrow would be a good day to try this out for real," he said. "I don't have any business meetings, so I'll just be splitting my time between the stores and the factory."

"Ok," you said tentatively. "I'll get his bag ready and write down his daytime schedule." The next morning, you loaded Willy down with everything he would need - extra clothes for both father and son, burp cloths, bottles, diapering supplies, etc. "So he'll need to eat again in a couple of hours. That will probably be when he needs another diaper change. And he'll need to go down for a na..."

Willy put a hand on your arm to interrupt you, rubbing up and down to calm your nerves. "I've got this. Okay? I want you to focus on enjoying your alone time." Admittedly, you were looking forward to a chance to curl up with a good book without intertuption for a few hours.

"Alright, Bean, ready for some adventure?" The baby cooed and raspberried spit all over Willy's hand. "I'll take that as a yes. Allons-y! Wave bye to mamma!"

"Bye bye, my boys. Have a good day!" You stood at the front door and waved them off.

<><><><>

Willy stopped first at his flagship store in the Galeries Gourmet to ensure things were in order. Mrs. Pennington, a regular customer always in the company of her granddaughter, spotted the chocolatier. "Well, hello there, Mrs. Pennington, Miss Hannah," he greeted and tipped his hat at the ladies. "Are you finding everything okay?"

"Indeed, Mr. Wonka. Thank you," the grandmother smiled. "And who is this handsome little one?" Ben babbled and cooed.

"This is my son, Bean. I mean, Benjamin," Willy replied with a proud smile.

"Oh, how lovely. Learning the family business early, eh?"

"As my mamma said, 'It's not the chocolate that matters. It's the people you share it with.'"

"I remember when my children were that little. Soak it up, Mr. Wonka. It doesn't last long." She patted the baby on the cheek and then continued her shopping. Willy turned around to wipe away a tear and kiss his son on the head.

Ben seemed to enjoy interacting with customers, smiling at their baby talk and staring around the store with wide eyes. But after a couple of hours, he started to fuss. The cashier was on break, so Willy was working the register, bouncing the baby in an attempt to silence his whimpers until he could break away to make a bottle. "Would you like your change spendable or edible?" He practically had to shout at the customers to be heard over Ben's fussing. Luckily the cashier came back before fussing became screaming.

"Okay, Bean, give me just a second and we'll silence those tummy grumbles," he said as he made his way to the stockroom. He deftly prepped a bottle and freed the baby from the sling. Very soon, Ben was reclining in Willy's arms and greedily sucking down a bottle. "See, I told your mamma I've got this."

<><><><>

Once Ben was fed and changed, Willy packed up the diaper bag and set out for the factory. Lulled by his father's swaying, Ben stayed asleep for a good while even after being transferred into the bassinet Willy had set up in his office. Inventing and chocolate making weren't exactly quiet endeavors, so Willy caught up on a bit of bookkeeping instead.

Ben eventually started stirring, alerting Willy with his soft coos. "Hi, sleepy head. Are you ready to go make some chocolate?" Willy set him back in the sling and made his way to the Idea Lab. Feeling refreshed from his nap, the little one was very alert, so Willy thought it would be fun to make this an interactive experience.

"Alright, Bean, I need to come up with something new, and you're going to help me," Willy announced while holding up two jars. "Which jar should I start with?" Of course, Ben's attention was grabbed by the brighest color of the two. "Ooh, essence of rainbow. Good call. What next?" he asked, continuing to hold up two jars at a time for the baby to choose from until he gathered enough.

Willy added the ingredients to his travel factory, which he still used for small batch experiments. Ben stared in wonder as the brightly colored liquids flowing down the spiral tube and giggled at the production noises. Willy was busy pressing buttons and pulling levers when the first chocolates came out of the machine and didn't pay close enough attention to Ben's stray hands. Willy looked down to see the baby's tiny hand grabbing and mashing melted chocolate into the fabric of the sling, his hair, and both of their shirts.

"Well, now I understand why your mother sent spare clothes for both of us." He wiped chocolate off his son's cheek with a finger and licked it. "Tastes good, though! I need to write that concoction down."

<><><><>

You were sitting on the couch with your book when Willy came home at lunchtime. Both boys and even their spare clothes were covered in chocolate. You had to stifle a giggle as you tried to figure out how to best grab the sticky baby without getting covered yourself.

Willy gave you a tired look but also huffed a quiet laugh. "I may have overestimated my ability to keep things under control. I don't know how you get anything done, my sweet. I always knew you were amazing, but you must have superhuman powers."

"Perhaps," you winked as you stripped Ben out of his clothes and started rinsing him off in the sink. "Are you sure you still want to make this a regular occurrence?"

"I would do it again in a heartbeat. But not before I have a bath."

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

MASTERLIST