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strawberriescherrieskiwi · 9 months

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His Muse

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Description: Willy had a setback and feeling defeat, luckily he can come home to his Flossy who always knows how to cheer him up. He couldn’t have asked for a better muse.

A/N: So no one asked this, but I saw the trailer and had to write this. It’s started sad but it has a happy ending. And can I just saw how excited I am for this film and Willy looks so happy, insane and I can’t want to see more of him. Also this is set in London in the 20s roughly.

Warning: Fluff, Angst, Smut, frantic and manic Wonka, slight talk of misogyny. pregnant reader.

Willy sighed as he walked down the street. His hat was tucked under his arm and his head was angled towards the ground. He didn’t like being defeated, being so bumped out, and hopeless, but that was exactly how he was feeling right now.

He has been denied again on a loan to open his own chocolate shop. He worked hard on this batch of chocolate and the bakers just laughed at him without even tasting it. How was he supposed to open his shop if they refused to take his product? He needed a shop to sell candy, but couldn’t get a shop without selling candy, but it was illegal to sell candy without a shop.

It was enough to make his head spin and not in a good way. He gnawed on his bottom lip until the pain and too much. Maybe it was time for him to give up on his pointless goal. Maybe he would get a normal job, he could be like his father and be a dentist, it would help his family.

At the thought of his family, he felt his eyes fill with tears. He would come home to his love a disappoint again. He never understood how she could stand by him when he offered no help to the family.

His sweet love, his candy cane, his chocolate delight, his muse. He sniffled as his home came into view. If you could call it that. It was a tiny home with barely enough room for a bedroom, bathroom, tiny kitchen, and a little basement area he’s been using as a workshop.

He wiped his eyes as he opened the front door of the home. “Flossy, I’m home,” he said with less excitement than you are used to.

You were standing at the stove making soup. You both have been eating a lot of soup these days but you never complained. You always smiled and said that soup was your favorite food, next to his sweets.

Willy made his way over to you, putting his hat on the rack along with his coat before wrapping his arms around your waist. He squeezed you softly and pressed a kiss to the back of your head.

“Rough day?” You asked softly. Your voice was like angels singing to Willy. He would listen to you and never tire of it. He often joked he wishes he could bottle up your voice and add it to his recipes to make his candy even sweeter.

“Rough day,” he repeated sadly.

Turning down the stove, you turned to face your husband. You’ve seen just about every side of Willy. His angry side, his happy side, his frantic and mad side, but you never seen him like this. Defeated with sad hidden green eyes. They normally shined like emeralds and danced with ideas, love, and wonder; But now they were dull, lifeless, and full of fear.

You cuffed his face. “My sweet Willy, what’s wrong my love?” You said.

He leaned into your touch, clothing his eyes briefly before they opened again. Willy grabbed your hands and kissed your left palm then your right. Determination filled his eyes as he looked back at you, but he still smiled sadly.

“I have been thinking,” he started walking away from you to set at one of the two mix-match chairs at your table.

“Oh,” you said wiping your hands on your apron and turning back to the soup, adding a bit more seasoning.

“Yes, I think we should turn the basement into the baby’s room. The babe can not stay in our room with us or at least not forever. I know the house is small so that is the best decision.”

Your furrowed your brows and glanced at him over your shoulder. “I don’t think the babe should be sleeping in your workshop.”

“Ah, but it won’t be my workshop. It will just be the babe's room. Maybe I can go tomorrow and see about getting some paint to paint a little mural for our little gumdrop.”

“Willy what about your work? Where will you do that?”

“In an office of course. I will get a job like a normal husband and work in an office. And after saving we can move to a better place.”

You sighed, turning to face your husband. Your hand fell to your small bump. You were barely showing with you been just over 3 months along. You walked to your husband, staring to kneel in front of him when he gave a shout and quickly got up and ushered you into his seat and he kneeled in front of you.

You smiled at his antics, patting his curls lovingly. He beamed up at you at your affection. A bit of light came back to his eyes, but still, the dark cloud lingered. Your smile turned sad. “Willy my love, if I want a normal husband, I would have married one of the men my father wanted me to,” you started, cupping his face.

“Why didn’t you? You could have had a better life?” he asked, he begin fiddling with the bottom of your apron.

“Because-” you turned his face towards yours. “-having a life with more money does not mean having a better life. I am happy with you, I love you, Willy Wonka.”

“I’m a failure,” he said, dropping his head to your lap. “I am a failure as a husband, as a businessman, as a chocolatier, I will be a failure as a father as well.” His tears fell heavily from his eyes.

“You are not a failure in any sense of the world, my love. You are brilliant, wonderful, and the kindest man I know. You had a setback. You are only a failure if you give up.”

“I must. I must. Our family needs more than what little I am able to earn. You have already lost two jobs because of me,” he sobbed into your legs.

Your first job once you married was at a local candy shop. With Willy actively trying to pursue the same business, your former boss, Arthur Slugworth, thought it was best you leave the shop.

Last month you lost your job waitressing when your boss learned of your pregnancy, stating it was for your own good to be home, nesting, and waiting for the birth. “Willy. I did not lose my job because of you. I lost my job because of other people’s issues. I have been having fun doing work with Mrs. Jonerson, learning the ends and out of the seamstress business. You know I always wanted to make clothes.”

He sniffled and nodded, turning his wet face toward you. “You made my lucky coat. I love it. It seems like home and made with love from my Flossy.”

You smiled back at him, wiping under his eyes. “Yes made with all the love in the world from your Flossy. Your Flossy who believes in you. Who knows you will have the biggest chocolate factory one day and your ideas and candy will reach all over the world.”

“It is a child’s dream.”

“It is your dream,” you stated. Not going to let him give up on the thing that makes him happiest.

“And what about your dream? You didn’t want this for your life. You deserve the world,” he said, hopelessly as he dramatically threw himself off of your legs and onto the floor.

He was spread out on the floor like a starfish and you giggled softly as you got on the floor and sat in his lap. His hands came up to grab your hips, but other than that, he didn’t move. “My world is you, my little dramatic chocolatier, our baby, and our lives. I want nothing more than that.”

Willy's eyes blinked at you in confusion, but wonder and love was creeping back into his gaze. “You must have a dream, you like designing is that not your dream?”

“When we met. We talked about dreams. How everything good in this world started with a dream. You said your mother used to tell you that and I thought it was perfect. I said my dream was to make clothes to make people happy, to fill them with love. I wanted my clothes to mean something to someone. Well, you wear my clothes, our child will wear my clothes, that is enough for me. My world will wear my clothes and love them, there is nothing more filling than that.”

Willy sat up slowly, pulling you tighter against him. “So your dream is to make clothes for our family?”

“Yes, or it used to be. Your dream is to make the world happy. To spread love and cheer through making your candy. And I love that dream, it has become my dream as well. My dream is for you to have your dream. Dreams are important. Do not give up.”

Willy cupped your face and kissed you deeply. “I love love love you, My Flossy. My sweet sweet Candy Floss,” he said, kissing all over your face frantically. “You are right? I can not give up. Giving up is not an option.” He kissed you once more, exploring your mouth with excitement.

He stood up with you in his arms. You quickly wrapped your arms around his neck and legs around his waist. He placed you on the counter and begin taking your clothes off your body. “Giving up is not the Wonka way. We will change the world with chocolate. With your clothing and my creation, we will add whimsy to the world.”

“There is the Willy, I know and love,” you said, pulling his clothes off and running your hands along his skin, loving being so close to him.

He shivered and grabbed your hips pulling you close as he sunk into you all at once. You winced slightly. “Willy. You are quite big remember to go slow,” you laughed, slapping his shoulder.

He blushed leaning down to capture your lips in an apology kiss. “I am sorry, Flossy. I just get so excited to be inside of you. I tend to lose my head.”

You kiss back, digging your fingers into his curls. “It is okay, I like your excitement, I love your cock and I love you,” you said, moaning as he pulled back out and then slammed back into you.

“Chocolate pudding you feel amazing,” he groaned, pistoling his hips quicker, spreading your legs wider so he could get deeper inside of you. “I want to live right here, between your legs.”

“Yeah? I would be so sore and drunk on your cock, my love,” you said, rocking against him. The things in the cabinet above your head started to shake and you were slightly worried something would fall on you, but also you were rather get hit than ask him to stop. “Please, Willy,” you begged.

“You beg, you know you never have to beg from your husband. All I am and have is yours,” he said, kissing along your neck, sucking in marks. “Shall I make a candy that feels like this? Feelings like being so deep inside of you. Like we are one?”

“I don’t think the public would be a fan of such a sexual chocolate flavor or feeling,” you moaned tugging his hair.

He whimpered at the pull of his hair, his cock throbbed and you knew he was close. “I suppose you are right, but maybe I can make a batch for just us,” he mused, biting into your neck as he lost his rhythm and cum painted your insides.

“Razzles, Flossy,” he moaned.

Willy’s hand came between your bodies stroking along your clit with his long and skillful fingers. You tightened around his cock and pulled harder on his hair as you came, fireworks dancing between your eyes.

Willy kissed your shoulders, moving to your breasts, and then back up to your lips. You kissed him back tiredly. He wrapped his arm around your waist and carried you to the bedroom and laid you down.

He left to get a washing cloth and cleaned you softly. “An orgasm feeling chocolate is a no-go as well?” He asked, putting a nightdress on you.

You laughed shaking your head as you fixed the dress once it was on you. “No, I don’t think so. Well, unless it is the feelings but not inducing one.”

His eyes lit up. “You are a genius my flossy,” he said, kissing you quickly. Then he leaned down and kiss your stomach. “And you, my gumdrop, will be sweet as sugar like your mother.”

“And father,” you added, smiling softly, getting up from the bed. “The soup is probably cold,” you said with a slight pout.

“It is alright,” he smiled, kissing your pout.

“But it was your favorite and you had a bad day.”

“And you have made it much better. I feel rejuvenated. I feel alive. I have so many ideas, I must go work on,” he said, bouncing up and out of the room.

You followed after him, though you walked, but couldn’t help but be happy to see him back to his old self. “Do not work too hard, Mr. Wonka. Your wife would like to have dinner with you when it is warm.”

“Working too hard is in my blood, but I’ll be back to eat with my sweetest of sweets,” he said, bouncing back to your side. He grabbed your waist, dipping you and kissing you until your vision blurred from lack of oxygen.

When he left you up, he spun you a few times and you fell into his chest. “Willy you will be the death of me,” you said, shaking your head and patting his curls as you untangled yourself from him and went to the stove.

“Nonsense. Never. I would never dream of being the death of the one that breathes life into me,” he wrapped himself around you, but you swatted him away.

“Work Willy, work,” you reminded him laughing.

“Another round is out of the question them?” He asked, his hands moving to pull your dress up.

You laughed. “Another round can wait. You, my genius chocolatier need to work, and I need to warm the soup and my privates need a break.”

“Ah, right again. I will work and give you a break, but,” He pressed himself against you and whispered in your ear. “Tonight you will have no break. Tomorrow you’ll be sore. Maybe I’ll work on a candy to relieve pain for my sweet,”

You flushed. “Willy Wonka, enough,” you said, trying to slow down your racing heart.

He chuckled, pressing another kiss to your cheek. “I do love seeing you like this, I will hurry back to return to you.”

“Do not rush. It seems I will need all the respite I can get.”

His laughter echoed around your small home as he opened the door to the basement and disappeared inside.

30 minutes later you poured the soup into two bowls, toasted some bread, and made your way down the ladder to get into Willy’s shop. You were silent as you walked, but it wouldn’t have made a difference as he was buzzing around the room with his notepad writing down things, mumbling to himself, and grabbing ingredients.

You watched him for a few minutes before shaking your head and setting the bowls down on one of the tables and making your way over to him, grabbing his hand as he buzzed by. He stopped at once blinking at you as if unsure if he was seeing you or not.

You couldn’t help but laugh, it was the same look he gave you in the morning as he was coming out of dreamland. “Darling are you back with me,” you said, patting his curls.

His eyes roamed over your face for a few seconds before he smiled softly and goofily his eyes glowing with wonder. “There is the woman I love most. My forever muse, the love of my life,” he said wrapping his arms around your waist picking you up and spinning you both. “After our talk, I’ve come up with 16 new ideas and I know they won’t be able to ignore me anymore,” He said with wide eyes.

You allowed him to spin you around before, tapping his shoulder. “You’re making me dizzy, Willy,” you said and he quickly set you on your feet.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, smothering you in kisses but you just shook your head and kissed his nose.

“I am excited to hear all your new ideas,” you said, grabbing his hand and pulling him over to the small table.

“And taste them right? You are my favorite taste tester,” he added.

You didn’t point out that you were his only one. “Of course, I haven’t had a bad piece of candy from you ever. I am always eager to try me,” you said, setting the bowl down in front of him.

He crossed his legs and pulled the bowl into his lap. “And that is why I could never be more grateful to you. For putting up with my antics.”

“Your antics are my favorite part of you, Willy. There is never a dull moment in this house,” you said.

Willy grinned widely at your comment. “I am glad. Life is more enjoyable with excitement, don’t you agree?”

You nodded grabbing your own bowl of soup. “Yes, I agree. Now tell me about these ideas.”

Taglist.

@gatoenlaciudad

@iloveneilperry

@valencia-rou

@s-we-e-t-t-ea

@robertpattins0nswh0re

#timothée chalamet #timothee chalamet imagine #timothee chalamet imagines #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee x reader #wonka #willy wonka fics #willy wonka x reader #timothee chalamet smut

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bonesandchalamet · 10 months

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slumber party - t.chalamet

masterlist

requested: y - “Hii, could you make one about Timothée and reader having a toddler,and just pure fluff please 🫶🏻”

pairings: dad!timothee chalamet x mom!reader

warnings: fluff + child has been given a name + established relationship

a/n: this is short I’m sorry love!

silence never fills the walls of your New York apartment anymore— at least not since aurora, your daughter, was born.

her presence has been a blessing, there’s no doubt to that, but when the silence exists it’s deafening. which is why you’re concerned at six am when the pitter-patter of little feet against the hardwood floor is nonexistent. she’s only four, you think to yourself, there’s no way she’s learned to sleep in yet.

Timothee, your husband, is dead asleep beside you. he couldn’t of heard a tornado hit with the way he sleeps, and you don’t blame him. work and production of the upcoming films he was in were beginning to start, and sleep was lacking with not only a toddler, but work.

so yes, he had his reasons to sleep in, but aurora didn’t.

you heave out a worried sigh, throwing the blankets off your body, exposing you to the cool air of the room. you slip on your slippers and trudge down the hall towards her bedroom. the homemade sign of her name Timothee made hangs loose on the door, the stickers her and Pauline stuck to the wood were fading, but stuck like glue. you push open the door carefully, to see her blinds are pushed open already, and she’s dressed herself.

“aurora,” your groggy voice jolts her head from the book in her lap, it’s timothees copy of dune that she stole because it reminder her of him. he spent months in the desert thinking of you two, and she spent months pretending the fat book in her lap was readable.

“mommy, is daddy awake?” she slips off the bed, book falling open onto the ground, she brushes past you headed straight for your bedroom door that’s closed. she doesn’t give you a second to reply, the man in the cozy bedroom is all she cares about and you don’t blame her. his presence was absent due to filming, any chance she got cozying up with him was a win in her book

you don’t have in your heart to warn her that he’s sleep. she’s already pushed open the door and by the time you slip into the dark room, she’s made herself comfortable in his arms. he’s barely awake, but when he felt her finger poke his chest, he unconsciously lifted his arms up.

you slip back under the sheets, turning in bed to look at the two. their mouths part the same way, their strains of curly brown hair fall over their faces in the exact same way.

you watch his eyes flutter open for a brief minute, he takes a look down at her, and then at you. your eyes are shut once again, forehead touching auroras, the two of you are sound asleep, and he doesn’t hesitate to sink further into the mattress and let sleep wash over him.

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babyflorencee · 4 months

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Worries and apologies

Timothée Chalamet x fem!Reader

I slammed the passenger door of my fiancé's car shut as I stormed inside mine and Timothée’s house, not caring enough to wait for him to get out of the car. I walked into our bedroom, crawling into bed, and pulling the blanket up to my neck, my back facing the door.

I sat there taking in everything that had happened earlier that day, growing more upset as I replayed Timothée screaming at me in front of our family and friends over and over again in my head.

Timothée and I had planned on going to dinner with our close friends and family as a way of spending our 3 year anniversary, but it didn't go as any of us expected. We ended up getting into an argument before we could even leave the restaurant.

I laid in the dark as tears started to form in my eyes as I tried to sink further into the mattress, wishing that I could just disappear.

I eventually decided that I was going to stay at a hotel for a few days, since I figured Timothée wouldn't want to see me. I grabbed the telephone that was on the side table, dialing a hotel's number as I waited for them to pick up. Once they did, they informed me that there would be an available spot in an hour. They said that they just needed to get it cleaned and that they would call back when it was ready. So I made a reservation before I got up from my bed, walking into my closet, grabbing my pajamas and a couple of outfits before stuffing them into a small bag. I went back into bed, waiting for the phone to ring, when I heard the bedroom door opening and then slamming shut. I jumped a little at the noise as I pulled the blanket up more, hoping that he wouldn't try to talk to me. However, my hopefulness soon disappeared as I felt the bed dip.

I pulled the blanket further up my body, as I tried to pretend that he wasn't there. Which worked up until I felt his arms wrapping around my waist, pulling me closer to him until my back hit his chest, pressing a kiss to my shoulder. I sat there, not moving, waiting for him to talk. It didn't take long before I heard him speaking in a calming tone, slightly whispering. He almost never spoke that way with me unless he knew I was unhappy with him. He thinks that if he lowers his volume, it will make up for raising his voice at me, but it doesn't.

"Y/n, I'm sorry for earlier. I shouldn't have raised my voice at you. It won't happen again, I promise." He said, pressing a kiss on my neck with every word he spoke.

I knew that what he was telling me was the truth, but I couldn't help but feel like it wasn't. So I stayed put. I felt him holding onto me tighter as I started to feel bad. I was about to roll over when I heard the phone starting to ring, "hello, who is this?" I heard Timothée say, as I closed my eyes, hoping that it wasn't the hotel.

"Oh uh no I would like to cancel that reservation." He said in a serious tone.

I looked up seeing him with an unreadable look on his face, soon enough he put the phone down as he turned to the side to face me, "You were going to leave?" He asked me, moving a strand of hair away from my eyes.

I didn't know what to say. How could I tell the man I am about to marry that I was thinking of leaving him for a few days? So I just nodded my head.

"Please don't ever leave me, I'm so sorry." Timothée said, his voice breaking, before engulfing me into a tight hug.

"I won't, I’m sorry, I forgive you," I whispered in his ear, wrapping my arms around his neck, playing with the tips of his hair.

"Promise?" He asked, keeping his head into my neck, not wanting to look at me.

"I promise," I said, pressing a kiss on the top of his head as I pulled his body closer to mine, my heart melting when he wrapped his arms around me.

#timothee x reader #timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet imagines #timothee chalamet fanfic #timothee chalamet one shots #Timothèe chalamet fanfic #Timothee hal chalamet #Timothée chalamet imagines #Timothée chalamet x reader #timothee chalamet x reader

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lola-la-cava · 11 months

Text

Met ‘23

Timothée Chalamet x Reader

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

“Y-yeah, don’t even worry about it. Who needs air?. Just… keep going” I say as they continue to tighten the corset. I grip my waist, sucking up as much air as I can.

All of a sudden, I hear a familiar voice tsk. The women helping me with my dress backs up, causing the piece of clothing to loosen.

“Did she put you up to this?”, he asked the woman. She nodded.

“Traitor!”

He laughs at my quip and comes up to kiss my cheek. “You look beautiful”

Timothée looks me up and down, examining the dress and taking my hand to twirl me. “You don’t look half bad yourself.” I giggle.

The curly haired boy gasped, “Half bad? Come on! Give me a little more credit!”

“Ah fine! You look gorgeous!” I praise, getting my body close to his to pull him in for a needed kiss.

“Ah, ah, ah. I’m not done yet! Couldn’t keep your hands to yourself, huh, lover boy?” my make-up artist comes to pull us apart and retouching my lipstick.

“How could I?” he stared at me with a love sick stare that I didn’t quite notice at the time.

Timothée hears a quick snap!from the camera. He whips his head around to see one of the photographers catch the perfect moment.

“Whoops” the guy shrugged.

“You people are sickening!” my assistant screamed from the other side of the room.

Timothée answers back, “Jealous much, Meg?”

“Ha. ha.” she teased. “I happen to enjoy being all alone, thank you very much”

I playfully roll my eyes at her antics. “Yeah, sureee”

“Aaalright, Y/N you’re set!” She pats my cheek as I look at her with grateful eyes.

Timothée’s arms wrap around my front once again as soon as she let go. His head resting on my shoulder, kissing my neck

“I just hope lover boy here doesn’t ruin your make-up”

“No promises” he giggles as he playfully placed wet kisses on the side of my head.

“I swear, you will never hear the end from me if you do” she warns him.

“Now, get on out there. Tons of people are expecting you”

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

Ah, the calm before the storm.

Well, as calm as it can get. Which was not very.

They stood in the line before getting their pictures taken. Celebrities in extravagant clothing surrounded them. Some familiar faces present that Y/N took note to say hello to later on.

Y/N smoothed over her dress and brought her hand up to fix her hair again. Timothée noticing this, he interrupted her movement and took her hand. He squeezed it three times before kissing it.

I love you.

She took her hand back and grabbed her phone from a discreet pocket on the dress.

She scrolled aimlessly through social media, trying to get feeling of impending doom of my mind.

Her eye catches a random headline from an entertainment news update account. It read:

‘Timothée Chalamet and Kylie Jenner hard launching their relationship at tonight’s Met Gala? Y/N Y/L/N left in the dust?’

She lets out an obnoxious scoff. Timmy hearing it, he looks at her screen, reading the obviously made-up headline.

“God, they’re still on that?”

He notices his partner’s silence. “Come on. You’re not really bothered by this, are you?”

She opened her mouth to say something. No words came out. She merely shrugged.

He gripped her shoulders and pulled her in for a bear hug. Timothée rested his head on hers as she got close to his chest, hearing the comforting beat of his heart that never failed to comfort her.

The couple stayed like that. “Trust me, mon coeur. I wouldn’t have this any other way. I’m perfect where I am and who I’m with”

“Shit, I actually might cry. I never know what to say when you say this sappy shit”, Y/N chuckles as she puts her hand up to mess with his styled hair.

Feeling her hand creeping his back, Timmy pulls away and bows. “I aim to please you. It’s my sole purpose in life”

A smile instantly appeared on her face and butterflies in her stomach. Nothing had definitely changed from when they first started going out. Same sparks, same chemistry, same tension. Whatever you wanna call it. It was there. They had it.

She tugged on his hand, pulling him in for one more kiss. Y/N looked at him, looking over the features she admired so much that she practically memorized them. Her gaze lands on his lips.

Some of her lipstick and gloss had transferred to his lips. She quickly tried to get the makeup off. “Shit, wait hold on. You have some-“

He smacks her hand away. “No, no. Keep it.” He rubbed his lips together getting the substance to cover all ground.

“Y/N Y/L/N and Timothée Chalamet? They’re ready for you.”

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

“Right now, I’m here with everyone’s favourite couple, Timothée Chalamet and Y/N Y/L/N” Emma, the interviewer, spoke with enthusiasm.

We’d just finished the carpet and were almost home free. Camera flashes blinded my vision as I tried not to close my eyes throughout the whole thing. Screams of my name were heard throughout the venue. Meddlesome questions and controlling demands to pose a certain way were yelled. To which, I didn’t respond to. Why should I? I maintained my balance by holding onto Timothée. You’d think after a few years, you’d get used to the bordering aggressive personalities you have to deal with every single day.

It turns out not really.

“How does it feel to be back? I mean, you guys have gone before, but how does it feel to be here as the quote-unquote, it couple?”

Me and Timmy both give awkward chuckles as we heard the last two words.

“Uh- I really don’t know about that last part, but it just feels great to share such a meaningful moment with him. I’ve personally dreamed of attending since I first saw it as a kid and to be invited for the second time… It’s just… yea”, I answer, not being able to expound on the statement.

Emma hums and gains back the mic.

“So, rumors have been swirling about the internet that actually said othewise. Do you have anything to say about that?” She points the microphone at Timothée this time, definitely hinting at the Kylie rumors.

He seems taken aback by the question, not knowing what to say and the only thing I’m able to do was squeeze his hand. Three times.

I love you.

Emma realizes this with a regretful look on her face. She leans toward both of us as she moves the mic away.

“It’s totally fine if you guys aren’t comfortable. We could just mov-“

He takes the mic, she gives him a grateful small smile.

“No, I uh, me and Y/N have actually seen a handful of tweets about this and I just wanna set the record straight and say we are very much still together”, he nods as he hands the microphone back to her.

“I think I’m right by saying that this has definitely relieved viewrs at home and me.” We laugh genuinely at her quip.

I imagine people on Twitter have stopped adding fuel to the fire after what he said and can have a better goodnight’s sleep later in the evening.

“And that’s our time. I’ll see you lovebirds inside! Have a great time together!”

We both shook her hand and left with an indebted expression for keeping it mellow (for the most part) after such a nerve-wracking red carpet.

“Very professional with that answer, Chalamet”, I hook my arms with his and leaned on his shoulder.

“Of course, ‘gotta remind everyone you’re still my girl”, he says with a smug smirk.

I laugh, “Your girl? I suppose that means you’re my boy?”

He playfully rolls his eyes. “Come on! As if you didn’t know that from the beginning”

“Ohhh, I know. I just wanted to hear it from your mouth!”

#timothee chalamet fic #timothee x reader #timothée chalamet imagine #timothée chalamet x reader #timothee chalamet x y/n #timmy chalamet #timothee fanfic #timothee imagine #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee chalamet x you #timothee chalamet fanfic #timothee x y/n #timothee x you #timothee chalamet fluff #timothee chalamet imagines

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lilmaymayy · 6 months

Text

timmy babe.. HOLY SHIT

do this more often PLEASE😩

#timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet imagine #timothee chalamet x reader #timothée chalamet #timothee chalamet x you #let me help you out next time😏#timmy imagines #timothée chalamet imagine #timothée chamalet #timothee chamalet #timmy chalamet #timmy #timothée chalamet x reader #timothee chalamet fanfiction #timothee chalamet imagines #timothee icons #she speaks🗣️

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timmymyluv · 2 years

Text

limping

timothee chalamet x reader

warning(s): implied/mentions of sex, aftercare, smugness, privacy invasion

summary: after a crazy night, you're caught stumbling and walking funny out of timmy's apartment and everyone especially he is amused at your antics

word count: 700 words

notes: wanted to try something new, formatting/with smaller font and a shorter drabble!! hope y'all like it- helped me get out of my writing rut slightly

“Where are you going, babe?”

Stumbling on your shaky feet from your previous night, the funny, awkward way you were walking around your shared apartment with unruly hair that refused to be tamed, and makeup that’s smudged so bad it’s still visible on your skin.

“I’m meeting with a casting director who wants me to be in one of his films. I have to go really soon, I don’t want to be late. Sorry I have to go, wish I could stay longer.”

Timothee sits up shirtless from your bed, blanket tugged up to his waist as he smirks amusedly at your still wrecked state.

“You’re walking funny today.” He crosses his arms and proudly admires your still shaking form, earning a playful eye roll from you.

“I wonder who made me like this, hmm?” You retort, picking up your discarded shirt thrown carelessly to the floor last night and new underwear hidden in your drawers.

Jumping into your jeans and quickly buttoning it up before you rush by the mirror close to the door, brushing away the loose strands of hair all over your face.

“I gave you a bath and a long massage last night, mon amour. Was that not enough?” Timmy teases as he languidly admires you from the distance, curls flopping in every direction in a way that tinges a heartstring inside you.

But cute was not the word to define him yesterday, or up to the late morning that nearly caused you to run late.

"Apparently not. If you didn't fuck me so good and your cock wasn't so big, maybe."

"And you know you love it." He replies in a sing songy voice.

"One of the million things I love about you, yes. Not the only, don't forget that!"

"Never will, Mon amour. never will."

Bag slung over your shoulder as you hastily put on your sneakers, you attempt to smoothen out the wrinkles of your top before you say your goodbyes.

“Where’s my goodbye kiss?” He pouts at you almost childishly, arms open in anticipation for your embrace.

Chuckling as you’re unable to resist him, you saunter over with a quick embrace and peck gentle kisses down his forehead and nose before a quick, passionate kiss on his lips.

“I’ll see you tonight, okay?”

“Hmm, dinner plans?”

“Yes, sir. Your pick of the resto tonight to make it up to you.”

“Call me that again and we'll have a part two to yesterday.”

As you make your way out the building, limping and rushing over to the car provided by your management, you spot your driver’s car as you wave over, opening the door and buckling yourself up immediately.

Even before you can say anything- “Ew, is that a hickey on your neck? God he went at you like a vulture. That’s gonna be hell to remove with a shitton of concealer.” Your makeup artist Vera jokingly scolds you, eyes bulging at the spanse of purple and blue down your neck and spilling over to around your collarbone and torso.

Shaking your head in embarrassment and slight pride with rosy cheeks, you drive off with your day to your series of meetings and appointments for the rest of the day.

What you did not expect was the rare time you checked your social media, you were trending over viral photos of you hastily dressed after an evident night of a passionate, salacious rendezvous with hair out of place, clothing full of wrinkles and tucked in the wrong places, and the way you were walking in an unusual way gathering enough submission.

Shaking your head, your phone pings and you get a notification from Timmy. A smug and satisfied emoji, alongside his message of “had a good night ;)” You could see him winking and pleased with himself over his sexual prowess and how he basically rearranged your guts real good and the whole world can see it.

“Oh she got that good good last night”

“I just know he’s big - WHAT who said that”

"That dick changed lives clearly"

You spent your breaks laughing at the creative comments social media would spit out after your recent ‘scandal’ of sorts, but your ego was sky high knowing that everyone else can only dream of being impaled, split in half on his god-like, enormous cock that it got you walking funny.

Laugh all they want, but it’s you he comes home to. It's you he spoils and worships on his cock, raw and harsh or passionate, delicate love making.

taglist:

@blackqueenstarseed1 @softhecreator @ohmysw33 @imnotoverlyobsessive @mondieumat @chanotel @starberry-cake @timotheel0ver @chalametsimp @hellomadamebutterfly @themonsterheloved @chal-latte @s-we-e-t-t-ea @zelleriz @strawberriescherrieskiwi @fangirl125reader @xoxoloverb @us3rd1stort1on @thebetawolfgirl @chelseamendes99 @yomidebby @esmaada @princessandtheflea @thestarsaregivenonceonly @meetmyothersouls

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oneshots-heaven · 1 year

Text

“Sleeping Mates" — Timothée Chalamet

What are you supposed to do when your best friend answers to your ’Can't sleep' text with a cheeky ’Come sleep with me' but you refuse due to your feelings for him?

WARNING True heartfelt fluff with some spice and angst Timothée Chalamet x Reader

You were tossing and turning in your bed, the sheets already stripped down to your hips as the city lights flooded your room. Your body felt on fire, and while your limbs felt tired and begged your mind to find some rest, it didn’t. You were wide awake, grasping your pillowcase, quietly groaning into it.

It had been the third night this week you struggled to fall asleep, and by now you knew you couldn’t blame it on the weather, neither on the city lights. It had thundered on the first night you couldn’t sleep and spent the entire next day blaming it on the weather. The second night, it had been chilly and rained all day, perfect temperature to have a good sleep, but instead you had stayed up almost the entire night.

You knew it must be another reason for you to be so restless lately, but you couldn’t explain to yourself what it was. There was nothing wrong in your life right now, literally not a single thing you had to worry about. While of course, there were the usual ups and downs life had to offer, you were doing good.

Turning back onto your back, you sighed as your hands searched for your phone, laying somewhere close by in your bed. Blinking against the bright screen, you checked the time.

2:38 AM.

Your tired arms gave in, laying the phone back down as you stared at the ceiling. The street lights brought the tiniest bit of light into the darkness of your room. There was only that, darkness filled with tiredness and admittedly, a bit of loneliness, as you felt like the only person awake around your block.

Grabbing your phone again, you checked the time once again. Not even a minute had passed, and it would only become more painful if you kept staring at it. Your finger hovered over the touchscreen, having no clue what to do. No solution came to your mind, everything only seemed to make it worse.

Unconsciously, you opened the messages, seeing the last chat with your best friend. You had sent him a video of his sister and you mocking his last fit, to which he had answered with some angry emojis. It still made you smile as you knew how eager he had become with his fashion looks, he liked making a statement and trying new things.

You stared at the chat, swiping upwards, reading some of your older texts. Timothée and you had been best friends for years now after having met more or less by pure coincidence. It was the easiest friendship you’ve ever had in your entire life, and somehow neither of you had ever questioned it, what you truly were, what you were supposed to be. It was just easy, he could focus on his movie career and you on your degree. Sometimes you didn’t hear from each other for weeks or even months, and yet you still always knew you had a friend for life. It felt like a lifeline.

One that you felt the need for now.

To: Timothée

Can’t sleep

This was stupid, he probably wouldn’t answer anyway. Knowing him, he was knocked out since 11 PM, peacefully sleeping in his bed two streets down the block.

Just as you wanted to put your phone away again, it buzzed in your hand. You blinked in surprise, yet frowned as you checked it.

From: Timothée

come sleep with me

You slightly sat up in bed, your eyes still fixed on his response, your hand clutched hard around your phone, as if you could lose it any second. Your chest suddenly felt like a panicked void, completely caught off-guard. You blinked and read the text again. For a second you weren’t sure if this wasn’t just a fever dream, however it was very much real, it was right there.

And yet it still felt surreal, although there was no reason to be surprised like that. Timothée and you were as close as the text hinted, saying stuff like that wasn’t a rarity. From the day you’d met, there had been this unspoken closeness between you two, a space where you could be whatever you wanted to be. It felt so natural that you had never questioned it, not until now. While you had had sleepovers at each other’s places and shared hotel rooms multiple times in the past, it just never was as intimate as inviting someone to purposely sleep besides you.

This had to be a joke.

All of the sudden, after whatever much time had passed, your phone buzzed again.

From: Timothée

are you there or asleep already?

You pressed your lips together, your fingers itching to type an answer.

To: Timothée

No, I’m here. Still can’t fall asleep.

Seconds later, your phone buzzed once more.

From: Timothée

open your door then

Disbelief kept you right where you were, hesitating. He wasn’t at your door, that was ridiculous. Why would he come over in the middle of the night? You tried to fight it, but the what if in your head was much louder. You let go of your phone, pushing the blanket aside before you stumbled through the dark hallways of your apartment. You must look like an absolute mess, but with the force you unlocked your door and pulled it open, it was clear you didn’t care at all. All your heart desired was to see if he was actually there.

Clothed in a hoodie despite the nightly freezing temperatures outside, Timothée stood in front of your apartment door, his eyes flying up to meet yours. His face softened as he caught sight of you. “Hey,“ he mumbled, still sounding groggy from his previous sleep.

Overwhelmed by the fact that he was actually here, you glanced at him wordlessly for a brief moment, before replying a soft ’Hey’.

“Can I come in?“

You nodded, unable to form any words with your numbed tongue. It felt like your brain had stopped working, a complete malfunction of basic behavior. You remained standing in the doorway before ever so slowly stepping aside for Timothée to step in. You hadn’t expected this, you hadn’t expected to see him at this hour.

Timothée walked further in your apartment as you closed the door behind him, starring at his back, right until he turned back around to you. “You okay?“ he questioned, making you feel caught.

“Yes,“ you breathed.

Pushing his hands in the pockets of his loose fitted sweatpants, he said, “Just can’t sleep, hm?“

Pressing your lips together, you leaned against the kitchen counter, nodding. You felt so out of place. What was this? Why did this feel not like usual, not like any other situation in your friendship and instead so different?

“Have had trouble sleeping for some days now. I don’t know why, I just can’t seem to find any rest.“

“Want me to make some tea? Talk you tired?“ he offered. “No offense, but you do look pretty exhausted.“

You chuckled quietly. “Well, I am pretty exhausted. But you don’t have to do all that. I just need to finally fall asleep.“

“Let’s go to bed, then.“

There were a million questions in your head, putting in question all sort of things. Go to bed, together? What will happen then? Will you sleep next to me? But first and foremost, why are you here now? While all of this was highly confusing to you, you didn’t stop yourself from following him to your bedroom. Your bed was the proof of your restless nights. The covers laid crumbled aside, pillows were laying everywhere, but were they fit right. Nothing about your bed looked comfy right now, but rather like a chaotic, stressful mess.

Timothée, without another word, made the space his own, grabbing one of the bigger pillows and fluffed it out before doing the same to the other. Stripping his sweater and throwing it on the ground, he stood on the other side of the bed, looking at you. He was still clothed in his low hanging sweatpants and a t-shirt, yet your cheeks flushed at the sight of him.

It was the ease with how he did things. Without hesitation, without fear, because that was what your friendship had always been about—safety without any doubt. His smile offered the same comfort that you’d always known, and although the confusion didn’t leave you, you felt a little more relaxed to get into bed, just as he did too.

This was just like any other sleepover, this didn’t mean anything more than any other time before, or at least that was what you told yourself. Timothée laid next to you, hauling under the same blanket as you, feeling so close yet far away in your queen sized bed.

The city lights brought enough light into your bedroom to see the contours of his face as you took a glimpse at him. Your fingertips tickled in desperate desire to touch his face, to draw your finger along his strong jaw over to his soft lips, but you denied yourself to give into that desire. Your hands stayed where they should be, laying to close to your body on either side. You laid in your own bed like a corpse, paralyzed to move or make yourself more comfortable, because you felt so fearful to get too close to him, and he seemed to notice.

“Relax,“ he whispered into the dark.

“I am relaxed,“ you assured him, lying through your gritted teeth.

He snorted quietly, suddenly you felt his hand shaking your shoulder lightly. “No, don’t lie,“ he said, his voice sounding like a true beg. “You’re tensed as hell, no wonder why you can’t sleep like that. You need to let your body loose, like you’re sleeping in a hammock.“

“In a hammock, you say?“ you laughed. “I don’t think—“

“Yes, don’t think. Don’t overthink anything right now, that’s too much brain activity.“

At this point, you felt like he was mumbling bullshit, you could hear it in his voice. Before you texted him, he must’ve been asleep or close to sleeping already, he sounded groggy, yet ever so concentrated on making you feel just as sleepy.

“I cannot not think. That feels impossible.“ you argued, which was the truth, especially now with him next to you in bed at this late hour. It was in the middle of the night, he should’ve been fast asleep and instead he had been suddenly standing in front of your door. You couldn’t concentrate on sleeping when your body was so hyperaware of his.

“Why?“

The worst possible question because you had no answer to that, or rather you feared the answer to that.

“I don’t know, I just can’t.“

His fingers brushed back and forth over your arm, creasing it, as he said, “Everything’s ok, Y/N. You’re fine, you can rest.“

You gulped, tensing more up if that was even possible. Why would he say such thing? Your mind spun around, and by now you were sure that you were losing yourself in absently overthinking about the meaning of your friendship. Timothée was the greatest friend you’d ever had, there was no argument in that, and you would do anything for this boy, and still you wondered.

He pushed himself up on his elbows as he noticed how you still couldn’t relax and rather laid rigged up beside him. “Come here,“ he said, ever so quietly, as he opened up his arms for you to move closer.

For a brief moment, you simply starred at him and the small space between the two of you. In the briefness of it all, Timothée looked like he may regretted his words, yet held his arms wide open. The confusion yelled loudly in your head, trying to draw further attention to itself but you had ignored it, already having pushed yourself over the mattress into his welcoming arms. They came around you, holding you against him.

His fingers continued to brush over your shoulder down your arm as you snuggled deeper into his arms, face on his chest, and closed your eyes. This felt like peace, and that was all you had longed for in a very, very long time. Yet the question didn’t leave your mind, perhaps bothering you until you would free it from your soul.

“Why did you come here, Timmy?“

The movement of his fingers stopped abruptly, his breathing becoming rigged, as you had definitely caught him slightly off-guard with that question. His chest moved up as he breathed in deeply, your head moving with it. What a dangerous, little question.

“You texted me in the middle of the night, and I just—“ he mumbled, you could feel his lips brushing your head that was laying in the crook of his shoulder. You hung on every word he said, desperately waiting for him to finish his sentence and as he did, you swore you felt like you’d just died. “I just thought you needed me.“

You breathed out, feeling his hand brushing gently over your head. The darkness was your savior, it did not let Timothée read your thoughts out loud as they were written all over it. As confusing as this was, it warmed your heart that he had made his way blocks over in the middle of the night, just because he thought you needed him.

And you did.

All you were lacking for the past few nights was the sense of comfort that perhaps only he could bring back with ease. A gesture like this, God knows a smile from him even, was enough to give you peace, and that realization was scary. When did you put all your source of true comfort into one person? Especially one that was so close, yet never yours? Why did you do that?

“I did,“ you whispered. “I had hoped you’d answer.“

His arms around your body tightened, pulling you even closer to him, if that was even possible. “I’m glad you texted me.“

“Why?“

You felt his head falling back deeper into the pillow he was laying on. “I was glad to be or even feel like the person you’d call in the middle of the night when you can’t sleep.“

Take your entire hand and crush my heart in it, it’s yours, that is all it ever was.

Your thoughts spun with every continuing breath as the airy silence crawled over you two, and in that moment, everything halted in time, or at least that was how it felt like to you. A painfully long moment filled with even more questions, more confusion and longing. For days, your body had craved to finally find some rest and just as you possibly could get it, you wanted to do anything but to fall asleep. Although this may didn’t mean as much as your heart interpreted in his words, you wanted this to last forever.

“Timmy?“

He hummed in response, his fingertips running gently up your back, caressing it until you leaned onto your elbow to properly look at him. He loosened his embrace around you, yet refused to fully let you go. His gaze went up, meeting yours, you could barely make it out in the almost pitch-black darkness.

“I wouldn’t want anyone else to be that person but you.“

“Really?“

Disbelief resounded in his voice. What a fool he was for not believing you. If he only knew what he did to you—for years. How much you cared, how much you wanted him to care. How much you needed this, and how much you wanted him to need you as well. It tore you apart that he couldn’t see that, and it felt like torture even thinking further about this. Why hadn’t you never act on this? Why had you always denied yourself the truth, especially when it was right in front of your eyes?

Why even, why still?

Timothée’s hand rushed forward, catching the strand of hair that was about to fall into your face, slowly brushing it behind your ear as you went against all fears and doubts and leaned forward, connecting your lips together without further hesitation. You felt his body stiffen, his mouth not moving a bit, not even responding. Just as reality came crushing down onto you and you hasted to move away from him, his hand pulled your face closer again as his lips crushed harder onto yours. You gasped into the kiss by the sudden surprise, leaning more on him.

Blood rushed in your head, making you feel dizzy in his embrace. Your heart stumbled over its own beat as he pulled you even closer, those soft lips brushed over your bottom lip, luring a moan out of your mouth as his tongue slipped in, brushing against yours.

Was this even real?

His hands traveled carefully, almost a bit fearful down your waist to your hips while you melted into his touch, longing for it even more now than ever before. You’d always been close, but not once had you crossed this line, it always had felt taboo. You had believed Timothée could never like you in this way, more than just a friend, but the way how he moaned into your mouth as you gently bit his bottom lip proved you otherwise. He may desired you, too, at least a bit.

Your hands found the collar of his shirt that you grabbed and pulled him on top of you, desperate to feel his weight on you. He chuckled against your mouth, “Stop it, I’m going to crush you.“

“Don’t be silly, Tim,“ you breathed, before he placed one hand on each side of your head and leaned down to kiss you once more.

“I really don’t wanna crush you,“ he whispered in-between each kiss he planted on your lips, “because that would be a terrible way of ever losing you.“

Suddenly, the lightness got a little swept away by the serious undertone of his voice. Had he ever feared to lose you?

“You’ll never lose me if you only keep kissing me like that.“

His mouth twitched to a smile that made him look so gentle and wholesome, yet his dark eyes told a different story. They had changed into a deeper hue, longing gazing, eyeing every inch of you in the dark night. Leaning down on his elbow, he used his other hand to brush with his finger along the lines of your jaw, his gaze following the movement, until he reached your lips. As he brushed over your lips, you opened your mouth, letting it dip in, and wrapped your lips around it to suck it.

His breath hitched in the very moment of it, as he let out an airy laugh. “Don’t do that,“

You frowned, insecurity overwhelming you within seconds. “Why not? Sorry—you didn’t like that, did you?“

“No,“ he said, “I wanted for you to finally sleep, but if you keep doing stuff like that, I will most definitely try to keep you from sleeping.“

Shivers crept up on you, tingling all over your body, as your brain immediately shifted to imagine the reality of his words, and all you were left with was the desperate need to make it happen. Suddenly, every part of your body uncovered its aching for closeness that you had denied yourselves for too long. All those forbidden glances at each other, all those feelings that you couldn’t ignore, all the built up through the years of friendship finally found its purpose, and you would be damned if you let that chance slip.

Your hand carefully reached forward, brushing aside the brown curls that fell into his face, caressing his cheek, “For once, I don’t wanna sleep.“

“Good,“ he breathed, and your lips met in the perfect middle of it all. Your hands grabbed after his face, pulling him closer down to you—him still on his elbows in his ridiculous fear to crush you, as he seemingly forgot that he was rather a lightweight, but you adored his wariness. He’s always been like that, taking care of you, looking out for you, wherever you went. Your mind had been attracted to him, before your body did.

His lips began to wander to your cheek slowly down your neck, which you recked unconsciously to offer him even more space, marking every inch with a kiss. Just as your hands wandered, too, trailering down his sides to the hem of his shirt. You’d seen him shirtless before, many times, this, however, would be different. You’d pull off his shirt with intention, and he let you. Breaking away from your neck, leaving you whimper for a second, he kneeled in-between your spread legs. You followed his suit, hands still on the hem of his shirt, as he held up his arms, letting you pull it off in one swift movement. Your chest tightened at the sight of him shirtless. There was something that kick off serotonin in your head as soon as you saw him like this.

“Don’t look at me like that.“

You met his eyes. “Like what?“

“As if I’ve got anything good to offer you. I don’t—I’m not—“

Your shoulders sunk in, face softening. “I like you just the way you are, Timmy.“

Chest heaving, his gaze also softened at your words. His hands found your face again, as he whispered against your lips, “God, you’re too good to be true.“

You melted in that kiss, as you never felt closer to him than in this random night that you wished would last forever. Morning shouldn’t come too soon, who knew how long this would actually last, but until then you would believe his words as the truth.

“Can I take your shirt off, too?“

You nodded, wildly, offering him your arms in the air as he did the same to you, undressing you. You hadn’t worn a bra or anything underneath your oversized shirt, so you were instantly exposed to him, much to his surprise. His adam’s apple hitched visibly, as he took in the sight of you for a moment. “You’re so beautiful,“ he hushed, crushing his lips back onto yours, bringing you down on the bed again. “So damn beautiful.“

And he proved his words. You felt him all over your body, appreciating it with his mouth and his hands, showered you in kisses and intense waves of shivers. He sucked on the softest parts of your breasts as he lightly flicked the nipple of the other, sending your brain into another dimension. Who would’ve ever thought of this happening?

As his head hovered over the lower part of your body, hands on your sweatpants, he glanced up, meeting your eyes. “Is this real?“ you questioned.

Timothée came back up to you. “Yes,“ he replied. “It’s always been real.“

Please do not come at me for not writing smut in this. I wanted to keep it wholesome. 😭

#timothee chalamet imagines #timothee fanfic #timothee chalamet fic #timothee x reader #timothee chalamet imagine #timothée chalamet #timothée chalamet imagine #timothée chalamet x reader #timothée chalamet x y/n #timothée x you #timothée chalamet fanfic #timothée chalamet ff #timothée imagines #timothée imagine #timothee x you #timothee x y/n #timothée chalamet fluff #timothee chalamet fluff

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pennylanefics · 3 months

Text

The Letter - Laurie Laurence

a/n: this was requested by @riordanness thank you so much!!! i instantly loved this idea the second i read it. i also tried a slightly different format, writing in third person rather than second because i've felt as though i've been struggling with that lately, but i hope you enjoy!

summary: refer to this ask

word count: 7.5k (this is a long one...kind of got carried away)

warnings - mainly fluff, slight angst, probably out of time period here and there, reader uses she/her pronouns

Falling for your best friend is never an easy thing to go through. Especially when the said best friend is Theodore Laurence.

Laurie and (Y/N) have been friends ever since they were young, being neighbors with each other allowed them to play together every single day during the summer that they were available to, and even during the school year, they’d switch whose house they played at every few days.

They grew up together, experienced big life changes alongside one another, gained knowledge and different skills, and of course, grew into their own personalities. They did everything they could together any chance they could get.

So of course it was inevitable that either one or both would fall in love. And that’s what happened.

On the days where (Y/N) and Laurie would go ice skating on the lake behind her house, her hand tightly in his as he guides her along the outside of the frozen water, their skates clinking as they slice the bit of powder on top of the ice, all she could think of was their hands entwined, how soft his skin is.

On the nights after a full day of ice skating and playing around in the snow, they would go into (Y/N)’s house, where her mother was waiting with two cups of hot cocoa and a couple blankets, they’d curl up and sit in front of the fireplace, giggling, talking about all the fun that they had and making plans for the following day.

On the nights where she was scared to sleep alone, she’d signal across the way to where she knew his room was, he would sneak out of his grandfather’s house and over to hers, and sit on the floor beside her bed and talk to her, or even crawl into her bed with her and just cradle her, holding her as close as he could.

During the moments of doubt where Laurie would wonder if he’d ever be good enough to be what his grandfather expects from him and wants him to be, (Y/N) was there to comfort him and give him any sort of advice she could, holding him as he cried and wiping his tears away with her thumbs, telling jokes to cheer him up.

During the sleepless nights that (Y/N) dealt with, her writing keeping her up, along with the fleeting moments of self-criticism, Laurie was right there by her side, refilling her glass of water and making sure she was taking enough drinks, reassuring her, and even reading what she has written for her.

Both of them unknowingly began to slowly fall in love, those simple moments beginning to mean so much to each of them, special and close to their hearts. However, the yearning was starting to get too much for (Y/N).

Every time she saw Laurie, all she wanted to do was jump into his arms and kiss him sweetly, blabbering out how much she loves him in a deeper sense than just in a best friend way. It was painful, and she couldn’t do anything about it. Until she came to the conclusion on what to do.

It was a beautiful spring day, the flowers were beginning to bloom bright and beautiful colors, the green leaves were glowing bright after a couple rainy days. (Y/N) and her mother were sitting in the kitchen, enjoying lunch, when Laurie knocks on their door. Her mom answers before coming back with a smile on her face.

“Hey,” Laurie greets (Y/N), a simple white puffy shirt adorning his body, the sleeves buttoned up all the way to his wrists, an unusual sight. “Would you want to join me for a walk today?”

(Y/N)’s expression faltered and she sets her sandwich down. She quickly tries to wrack her brain for some semblance of an excuse.

“Um, I wanted to stay in and get a chapter of my story done,” she says, averting her eyes to her plate, a tell-tale sign she was lying. She had finished that chapter last night, but she couldn’t let him know that.

His expression falters slightly upon hearing her rejection, and he clears his throat awkwardly.

“Oh, okay…um…” He isn’t entirely sure what else to say. She never turns down a walk with him, something was up. “Is everything alright?”

(Y/N) looks up and sighs, hating the hurt and broken look on his face, but she couldn’t do this anymore.

“Yeah, everything is okay. I’m stressed over this one scene and need to lock myself away for now.”

Every time from then on, when Laurie asks her to go on a walk, invites her over for dinner, asks her to come over, anything, it’s met with an excuse.

“I’m feeling rather tired today, I spent all night writing.”

“I’m meeting a friend in town today, I haven’t seen her in a while.”

“I have to deliver something to a family friend.”

Laurie started to catch on to all these excuses, and as time went on, it had been over a month since the two of them had even spent time with one another. It came to a point where Laurie sat in his room, watching her house like a hawk most days, but one day, noticed her blinds were closed. For some reason, this stung his heart more than he expected it to.

Until one day, things change.

Up in her room, (Y/N) hears her mother and father call for her to come downstairs. Groaning, she throws her book down and trudges down the wooden stairs, creaking underneath her socked feet. That’s when she sees Laurie, and she pauses.

Laurie’s heart aches in his chest at the sight, but he puts on a smile on his face.

“Laurie was just telling us some big news and we thought you might want to hear as well,” her mother beams, reaching out for her to join them in the living room.

(Y/N) slowly walks over to them, taking a deep breath, and offers Laurie a soft grin. He nods a greeting to her and clasps his hands together.

“I wanted to inform you all that I will be heading off to Europe at the end of the week,” he states very strongly, like there was nothing that was going to change his mind. “My grandfather thinks it may serve me well. I will be in France for most of the time, but I will be traveling around, exploring, seeing the world.”

“I think that sounds like it would be a wonderful time, Laurie,” her mother tells him, excitedly hugging him. He hugs her back and his smile widens a little, moving on to shake (Y/N)’s father’s hand.

However, (Y/N) remained in her spot, unable to move, paralyzed with this new information that the man she loves is going away. But then her mind begins to race. Was this her fault? Even though Laurie was grinning at her, she could tell there was a deeper, more painful look he was hiding deep down.

“Do I get a hug goodbye?” He jokes, reaching out for her, trying to break the obvious tension between them. (Y/N) finally sighs and steps forward right into his arms, tightly wrapping hers around his torso. His hands embrace her back, his large, warm hands bringing her back to the nights where he’d hold her as she fell asleep, making sure she didn’t fall off the bed or couch.

Tears prickle (Y/N)’s eyes the longer their hug lingers, so much that she has to pull away to keep herself from choking up and completely sobbing in his arms.

“I hope you have the best time,” she whispers, stifling a cry that was close to being released. She avoids eye contact with him as she steps back to where she was standing before. The tension between the two of them returns as Laurie stares at her, but she doesn’t even glance at him.

Laurie nods his head and bids a goodbye to the three of them once more before walking out of the house and back to his grandfather’s.

“What was that about? You two used to be so close,” (Y/N)’s father chimes in as soon as the front door clicks shut. Both her parents stare at her, waiting for an answer, but she’s unable to say anything. Instead. she takes off running upstairs and back to her room, where she finally breaks down crying into her pillow.

It was finally happening. Laurie was going away for who knows how long, he was most likely going to meet a beautiful French woman and marry her as soon as he could. (Y/N) starts internally beating herself up over it.

I should’ve told him.

I should have made a move.

I shouldn’t have let him walk away from me so easily.

I should have ran after him as soon as he walked out of the door, begging for him to stay.

The remainder of the night, (Y/N) stayed in her room, spending her time staring at the wall and reading small excerpts from the book she was currently reading. Staring out her window after having finally opened the curtain, she notices Laurie’s bedroom was still filled with light, once it was dark enough out to really stand out.

Getting some ounce of courage, she stands up from her bed and grabs a blank sheet of paper and her quill, walking back over to her desk and taking a seat. She dips the quill into the ink and gets to writing, her tongue poking out with concentration, stealing glances at Laurie’s window here and there, getting out all of her thoughts that she was dying to say to him.

After a while of thinking and writing, scratching things out and even starting completely over a few times, she looks over the final version of the letter and smiles to herself. Exhaustion takes over her so she sets the letter out to dry, sets her quill back in it’s little container, and heads back over to her bed to crawl under the covers.

The following days, (Y/N) avoids pretty much everyone, either staying in her room or another part of the house whenever her parents were out. She didn’t want to see anyone but Laurie, in hopes that maybe, if he comes over to see her one last time, she can take her chance.

But no.

Laurie left quietly in the morning, far before anyone else was awake, so early that the only time she realized he was gone was later that night, after the sun had set and the night was calm, did she notice the absence of candlelight coming from his room.

As the months go by, (Y/N) realizes the grave mistake she made in withdrawing herself from Laurie. Life was miserable without him, she pined for their late night talks surrounded by her chaptered work and other stories, she wished he could hold her to sleep one more time, but that was all gone.

He was somewhere off in Europe, and she was stuck in Concord. This is her new life, having to live with the fact that she yearned and longed for his love, but she missed her chance and screwed up entirely.

Every night before she went to bed, she’d scan over the letter just to make sure she didn’t leave anything she wanted to say out, and every night, she would end up changing something. Whether that was a single word, or adding something. It got so much that she had to start with yet another piece of paper at some point.

And every time, she wrote Laurie’s name on the front with such care and love, and would smile when it was finished and dried. She would repeat the same process, folding it carefully, and sealing it with his favorite color wax and her personal stamp, as well as some dried flowers.

This time it was going to stay sealed, she promised herself that and was planning on keeping it.

“How are things for you, Miss (Y/N)?” Mr. Laurence asks her after stepping out of his house.

Since it was a beautiful spring day, she was reading underneath the tree right on the edge of her family’s property, and the older gentleman was leaving to take his daily walk.

“Things are going okay, Mr. Laurence. I got a job at the local library stocking books and that has taken up a lot of my time.” He smiles at her and comes to a stop in front of her.

“And you’re still working on that story of yours? Ready to publish it?” (Y/N) chuckles softly and looks down at her hands, her heart racing in her chest.

“Not exactly. I have put that on hold for the time being,” her shoulders fall a little, and Mr. Laurence sighs a little.

“In due time, you’ll pick it back up,” he smiles down at her before he walks off in the direction he usually walks, leaving (Y/N) alone once more. She tries to go back to reading, but it’s no use. Her mind is filled with thoughts now, remembering why she stopped writing and how she couldn’t exactly tell Mr. Laurence, because it had to do with his grandson.

She decides to head back to the house for some lunch, she enjoys a sandwich made by her mother on the back porch, taking a seat on the porch swing and looking out at the beautiful lake, surrounded by weeping willows blooming beautifully in the spring weather, as well as wildflowers that her and Laurie plant with her mom every year.

This year, it was just the two of them, and (Y/N) didn’t like it at all. Laurie brought a different sense of fun to it, he was constantly cracking jokes or telling stories, now the only noise was her mother humming some tune or telling her about a family member.

Life was different, and all (Y/N) wanted was Laurie back.

To her surprise, that day came two years later.

By now, (Y/N) was in her early twenties and preparing for life as a writer, attempting to establish her name, albeit not easily, the owner of the bookshop she works at was more than happy to lend her stories out, even if they aren’t binded properly or fully complete. She loved getting to connect with people who read her work and had opinions or even constructive criticisms.

Life was finally looking up for her, until everything turned upside down once more.

Fall had come around this time of the year, the leaves changing colors to beautiful oranges, reds, and yellows, the crisp, cool air settling over the northeast and bringing a sense of change. Perfect for the change that was coming.

It was very early in the morning, the sun just barely peaking over the horizon, casting the world in a stunning, orange glow, a sunset like any other. (Y/N) was still fast asleep in her bed, her face smushed against the rather thin pillow, her hair sprawled out all over.

Since she was asleep, she didn’t hear a knock on the door, or her mother answer it and let Laurie in, nor did she even hear his attempt at trying to be quiet walking up the stairs and right to her room. Nor did she realize that Laurie walks in, expecting her to be up and about, holed up as he imagined she would be.

Upon seeing that she was still asleep, he feels awkward for intruding. Admiring her for a moment, he can’t help the smile that stretches across his lips. As he goes to leave, he sees a piece of paper with his name neatly printed on it.

His eyebrows furrow and he takes one step and picks the letter up. His finger runs along the smooth paper that his name is written on before turning it over and tracing the royal purple wax seal, being mindful of the fragile flowers adorning it as well.

He wonders what’s written inside, if he were to crack the wax seal and read it, what would he find? Was it a birthday card? A letter detailing how much she hated him? Something she wanted to tell him, like how she found a lover and was to be married in the coming months?

Whatever was in the letter, he decided against breaking the seal and snooping. Carefully, he backs out of the room and makes his way back downstairs to where (Y/N)’s mother begins making breakfast.

As the food starts to come together and the smell wafts through the house, (Y/N) is awoken by the comforting smell of crackling bacon, scrambled eggs, and fluffy pancakes, her favorite. She bolts out of bed and throws on her morning overcoat, something she brings out for chillier fall and winter mornings like today, and sprints downstairs.

But to her surprise, she finds Laurie sitting there at the kitchen table, while her mother stood at the stove, continuing to cook the bacon and flip the pancakes.

“Laurie?!” She shrieks, her hands flying up to her mouth in shock. Laurie can’t help the wide smile that spreads across his face, hearing her voice again and seeing her face, noticing how much she’s grown since the last time he saw her.

Standing up, he opens his arms and within seconds, she leaps into them, wrapping hers around his neck. He tightly holds her close to him, nuzzling his face in her neck and inhaling her scent that he fell asleep to so many nights.

“I missed you,” he whispers into her shoulder, his eyes screwed shut as he tries to keep himself from crying.

The last few times they saw each other were very tense and not the way he wanted to really end things, so the fact that she was here, in his arms no less, it meant the world to him. And he didn’t want to let go just yet.

“I missed you, too,” she whispers right back, not a second thought to her words.

Just as she pulled away, her mother just finished cooking the food, and set the last bit of pancakes on the table next to them.

“Enjoy guys. I will be going around delivering the pies I made last night, so I’ll be back later in the afternoon.” The two bid (Y/N)’s mother goodbye and they take a seat nex to each other at the table, (Y/N) in her usual spot and Laurie at the head of the table, just to her right.

“So, how was Europe?” (Y/N) asks, grabbing a couple pancakes and pouring some syrup over them, also scooping up some eggs and plating them. Laurie does the same for his own plate, grabbing the fork and knife set off to the side.

“It was great, very beautiful. I had a little place in southern France that my grandfather owns, so that’s where I stayed overall. But I traveled all over, to Paris, Italy, Germany, Switzerland.” She raises her eyebrows and grins, taking a bite of her food.

“They must have been gorgeous sites. Did you learn Italian or German?” Laurie smiles to himself and gazes longingly into her eyes.

“Penso che tu sia la ragazza più bella che abbia mai conosciuto,” he gracefully speaks, chuckling softly at her confused expression.

I think you are the most beautiful girl I have ever met.

“I have no idea what you said, but it sounded so elegant,” she swoons a little, melting at the smile he returns, a blush beginning to cover his cheeks.

“Well, looks like you’ll have to learn Italian to figure it out,” he winks before taking another bite from his stack of pancakes. A comfortable silence hangs in the air for a moment as they enjoy the food in front of them, both feeling content and at peace with their reunion.

“Um, I was wondering if you’d…if you would like to take a walk with me? Like old times?” Laurie asks, a little scared to considering all the past few times she turned him down. But to his surprise, she smiles and eagerly nods her head.

“I would love that, Laurie. I want to show you this little deer family that sits tucked away in that little hideaway we cut out in the twigs and brush along the pathway a mile or so down.”

“Oh yeah! The hideout we made to escape our parents because we didn’t want to be away from each other. I remember the day we made that.”

“Me too. Every time I walk past it, it makes me smile.”

Laurie has the urge to reach out and take her hand, it’s so close to his resting on the table, so much that he can feel the warmth radiating from her skin, and it drives him mad. But he stays put, not wanting to overstep any boundaries or ruin things once again.

After they both finish breakfast and a bit more small talk, (Y/N) heads upstairs to change into a daytime dress, something simple but slightly thicker than her summer clothes, a nice cream color of the skirt and a natural brown top; it compliments her skin tone very well, and she has always felt beautiful in this specific piece.

Once she is dressed and her shoes are tied, her eyes drift to the letter she wrote and addressed to Laurie, who is just downstairs at this point in time. Picking it up, she admires her own handwriting and the wax seal, something she’s done for months at this point, and sighs, wondering if she’ll have the guts to give it to him sometime today. Quickly, she shoves it into the pocket of her dress and dashes back out of the room and down the stairs.

“Ready,” she smiles at Laurie, guiding him out of her house and onto the trail that they used to walk.

It was just like old times, like nothing has changed and like no time has passed. They laughed like they used to, they shared story after story that happened during the time they were gone, Laurie detailing his daytime adventures of riding a carriage through the French countryside, to (Y/N) describing her work at the library and giving him the gossip of well-known people within the city of Concord.

(Y/N) was smiling so much that her cheeks were starting to hurt; but it was a feeling she welcomed, and a feeling that she could never get tired of. Laurie is in the same boat, a light in his eyes that has been dimmed for years at this point, and she could tell.

As the time went by, the wind started to pick up, cooling off the atmosphere from the blinding sun, and (Y/N) just so happened to forget her overcoat, not thinking it was going to be chilly at all. But, since Laurie is so in tune with her, he immediately knows something is wrong.

“Here,” he pauses his steps to remove his coat. Raising his eyebrows, he reaches out towards (Y/N), silently asking if it was okay. When she goes to reach for the coat, he ends up throwing it over her shoulders carefully, making sure it was secured enough to not fall off.

He offers her a soft smile, one filled with love and adoration, specifically for her. He can’t help but think how adorable she looks in his jacket.

“Thank you,” she murmurs, looking down at the ground in front of her as they continue walking on, her hands grabbing hold of the coat around her and tightening it slightly.

They continue walking for a little while longer, goofing off together like they used to do on their walks, before they start to head back, just after they reached the little hideout spot she mentioned earlier.

“Would you like to go into town? I don’t want to, uh, to part with you just yet, I feel like we have lost time to catch up on,” he smiles as he says this, wanting nothing more than to just be with her for the remainder of the day.

And fortunately for him, she agrees right away.

“Great, just give me a moment for Gerard to get the carriage ready and then we can take off. You go inside for a moment to get warm.” (Y/N) chuckles and steps inside her house after watching Laurie walk further and further away straight to his home. Once he is out of sight, she disappears inside and plops down on the couch. After resting for a moment, she fishes into her dress pocket and grabs the letter, thinking everything over.

There wasn’t a moment during their walk that she could have given it to him, or brought that sort of conversation up just yet. But maybe in town would be safer? No. She would have to face the ride home with him in a carriage of close quarters, that wasn’t an option.

Her fingertip traces the seal and she sighs, shaking her head.

“What are you doing, (Y/N)?” She whispers to herself.

A swift knock on her door startles her and she jumps up, immediately shoving the letter into her coat pocket and stands to head back out with Laurie.

“The carriage is ready,” he grins, holding his hand out for her to take. She gladly places her hand in his and follows him to the front of his house, where the carriage was brought around for easy access.

The city wasn’t as busy as Laurie was expecting, maybe because it was an afternoon of a week-day, or maybe it was the clouds that had rolled in on their way into town that had everyone scurrying to seek shelter in case there was rain or any sort of bad weather.

The first stop was the bakery, Laurie getting a regular croissant and (Y/N) getting a chocolate croissant, her favorite. She then bring Laurie to the library, showing him what her usual job is of re-stocking books, taking the ones recently returned and putting them back on the shelves. It was simple work, but she enjoyed it.

As they continue walking along the street, catching up as they’ve been doing, a little jewelry shop catches (Y/N)’s eye, and they step inside for a little to shield themselves from the chilly breeze that picked up.

Laurie follows her close behind, examining every piece she admires.

“Oh, Laurie, look how gorgeous this is,” she gushes, walking over to a counter with a simple green amethyst necklace, a small emerald cut with a silver chain and silver details holding the stone in place. Her jaw was slacked in awe as her fingers cradle the precious stone.

“That is beautiful,” he replies, noticing the twinkle she has in her eyes as she admires it. But upon seeing the price on it, her shoulders deflate and she sighs.

“If only I could afford it. It’s quite a piece, though.” Laurie nods silently and grins at her. He quickly looks to the man behind the counter and nods his head towards the piece, silently telling him to take it.

Just as (Y/N) turns away, her dreams slightly crushed, she spots a friend walking right past the window of the shop.

“Priscilla?!” She shouts, running straight for the entrance to the shop, slipping out just as Laurie turns back around to talk to the man. Acting fast, Laurie hands the man the correct amount of money stated and takes the box that he packed the necklace in.

Laurie leaves after thanking him, making sure to hide the box in his pocket before finding (Y/N) still talking to her friend. He comes to stand next to her, not saying anything and allowing her to have time catching up with someone else.

“Oh, Priscilla, this is Laurie,” (Y/N) finally introduces him after a small lull in the conversation. “Laurie, this is a friend of mine at the library, Priscilla.”

“Ah, so this is the infamous Laurie that she always talks about.” (Y/N)’s eyes go wide with worry, not wanting her secret to be given away, but thankfully, she continues. “She’s told me many stories about how you grew up together, it’s nice to finally meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you as well. We do have quite a lot of stories from when we were young,” he chuckles, glancing over at (Y/N) and smiling widely. She laughs along with him, her head tilting back with her laughter, a sight Laurie has always loved.

“Well, I have to get back home, but it was nice seeing you, and nice meeting you, Laurie,” Priscilla waves a goodbye to the both of them before dashing off. (Y/N) watches and as she does, she feels a single drop of water fall onto her nose.

“Do you feel that?” She asks, turning to Laurie, looking up at the sky. He joins her and flinches when a droplet of water hits his eye.

“Looks like we should get back,” he says, reaching for her hand and beginning to drag her away, back in the direction where their carriage was waiting for them to return. Laurie helps her step into the cab of the carriage, their laughter ringing out in the start of the thunderstorm.

The ride back for them was quite relaxing. (Y/N) stared out the small window, the rain hitting her face, Laurie watching her with admiration, knowing that if she turned around in a second and saw the look in his eyes, she’d be very aware of his feelings.

She ends up having dinner with him and his grandpa for the evening, enjoying being back in the house that she spent so many days and nights in, a place she hasn’t been to in so long because it felt wrong to be there without Laurie, especially with how their friendship kind of fizzled out towards the time of him leaving.

But Mr. Laurence welcomed her back with open arms, letting her know she was more than welcome to visit any time. He even invited her back over for dinner tomorrow night, also fitted with an evening of entertainment with her parents and a few others.

When the time came, Laurie walked (Y/N) back home, the rain still falling down from the sky, soaking into the ground to hydrate the dry grass and trees. She used his coat to shield her hair from the rain, Laurie opting to get drenched, as it doesn’t bother him.

They come up to her front porch, chuckling together as they are finally covered from the pouring rain. Standing there for a moment, (Y/N) looks at Laurie and smiles, not really wanting to say goodbye, but she was exhausted.

“It was so lovely to be with you again, Laurie,” she murmurs, worried about how he feels. But when a huge smile stretches across his face, she feels relief course through her body.

“I very much enjoyed it as well. I think coming back was the best decision I have made so far.” A smile slowly tugs at (Y/N)’s lips and she feels her cheeks heat up with a blush. Sure, it wasn’t her that he solely came back for, but she could dream, right?

“Oh! I forgot I’ve been wearing your coat all day,” she realizes just as she was getting ready to head inside her warm home. She removes it from her shoulders and hands it to him, a thankful grin on his face.

“It’s no worries. I think it suits you quite well,” he winks. Again, she gets all flustered and looks down at her soaked shoes.

“Well, um, I better get inside before I get sick, but I will see you again tomorrow night, for dinner.”

“Of course, get some rest and yes, I will be anxiously awaiting for dinnertime to come.”

With that, Laurie turns and trots down the steps before taking off in a sprint back to his home, his own jacket over his head now that he had it back. (Y/N) steps inside and sighs deeply, heading straight up to her room and untying her muddy shoes.

Once she gets dressed in her nightgown and gets all snuggled up under the covers on her bed, she grabs the book she has been reading recently from her nightstand, but something clicks in her head.

She doesn’t see the piece of paper that has been there for years. Her letter to Laurie.

Panic sets in and she starts to freak, checking her dress that was in a pile in the corner of the room to be washed at the end of the week, but nothing was in her pockets. She wracks her brain, trying to remember the last place she put it, until it clicks again.

Laurie’s coat pocket.

Her actions freeze as she thinks over the day, trying to recall when she put the letter there. Things finally fall into place and she falls to the ground, her knees hitting the wood with a loud THUD. Tears immediately spring to her eyes and she starts to shake, knowing that there was a possibility of him finding it now.

And unfortunately for her, this wasn’t to be dealt with tomorrow, as Laurie knocks on the front door softly but just loud enough for her to hear. Slowly, she walks down the stairs, trying to be quiet as to not disturb her parents.

Opening the door, she finds Laurie standing there, his hair drenched with rain, as well as his white shirt and black vest. She didn’t have to say anything, since Laurie was holding the letter up, the purple wax seal broken, a clear sign that he read through it. His breaths were heavy, filled with emotion.

The silence is thick between them, both too scared to start the conversation.

“Is it true?” Laurie asks, staring at her, waiting for her to explain. However, she says nothing and steps to the side to let him in, wanting him out of the chilly, rainy night. But that wasn’t what he wanted, as he heads right to the back porch, gazing back at her, silently asking for her to follow him out to the covered porch.

The two step back outside, and instantly realizing that she wasn’t dressed for it, he puts his coat back over her shoulders, bringing her over to sit on the porch swing together. Laurie opens the letter back up and reads over it again, although that’s all he did when he found it, was read it five times over just to make sure he was actually seeing what he thought he was seeing.

A smile appears on his face and he folds the letter and brings it up to his face, chuckling to himself as he notices that she sprayed it with his favorite fragrance of hers.

“I’ve always thought of our friendship as different. Not in a bad way, but…a good different. I have always thought you were so very special, as in a beautiful person but also special to me, personally. And then five years ago, when we were seventeen, we were at an event together, with a few friends and family, around Christmastime. You ended up falling asleep on my shoulder, and that’s when I realized I’m in love with you.”

(Y/N) stares out at the backyard, getting lost in the rainfall, but listening to Laurie fully, taking in his words and everything.

“It felt so wonderful to have you beside me like that, even though we’ve been in that position before, and even closer, that moment felt different for some reason. I realized that you are all I wanted in my life. I didn’t want anyone else falling asleep on my shoulder, no one else in that room mattered by you. I wanted to fall asleep with you by my side every night.”

This admission makes (Y/N)’s heart race in her chest, and she finally looks over at Laurie, who also stares foreward, seemingly focused on choosing his words. She notices, even in the dark of the night, the slightly pink tint to his cheeks, though she wasn’t sure if that was from the cool temperature or the reveal of his feelings.

“But then things fell apart. You started acting strange and I figured I was reading signals wrong, that I was misjudging what our relationship was. That you were rejecting me in some way, even though I never voiced my feelings for you. That’s why I moved to Europe. To start new, to forget you, but I found that to be impossible. You were all I was able to think about. Everything I saw, I thought of you. Going to an art museum, I wanted to discuss a painting with you to hear your thoughts. Finding a little bakery and wanting to give you a bite of my pastry. Taking a trip through the French countryside and wanting nothing more than to run through the fields with you, your hand in mine, laughing, with no care in the world.”

Tears were filling (Y/N)’s eyes as he speaks, he was still staring forward and refusing to look at her until he’s said everything he needed to.

“Reading this letter just…brought so many emotions and confused feelings back.”

There’s a pause in the conversation as (Y/N) tries to collect her thoughts before speaking, not wanting to say the wrong thing.

“I love you, Laurie. I do. Everything in that letter is the truth. I didn’t mean to distant myself, but I was scared. I know that is not a good excuse, but I realized I was in love with you too. I took it far differently than I should have because I’ve never felt this way for someone. And I didn’t want to ruin our friendship.” She pauses to take a deep breath, turning her head back to look at the backyard, some parts of it beginning to flood a little due to the amount of rain that had fallen all afternoon.

“But in you pulling away, it made it worse. It ruined it anyway.”

“I know. Believe me, I am well aware of that at this point.” She looks down at her hands, disappointed in herself, and hurt. She was scared of this conversation going south, and things were going to end terribly. “But I would have rather kept you around and yearned for you in private than confess my feelings and lose you. And I got far too in my own thoughts and fear and thinking you wouldn’t feel the same. So I distanced myself. And I know I should not have, and I’m so sorry.”

Laurie takes her words in, nodding along as she apologizes. Opening the letter back up, he reads over it and lets the silence hang in the air for a few moments. His fingers run over the dried ink on the paper, remembering the feeling he got when he read it for the first time, only a little while ago.

FLASHBACK

Laurie enters his room and slips his coat off, hanging it up on the rack right next to his door. He reaches on the inside to grab the box with the necklace out, but also makes sure to check his other pockets just in case he left anything in there. To his surprise, he feels a piece of paper in one, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

When he realizes what it is as soon as he pulls it from his coat, he freezes, not sure what to do with it. But then he gets the idea that maybe (Y/N) put it in there for him to find. So, does that mean she wants him to read it? It must…right?

Going against his better judgement, he breaks the wax seal and opens it slowly, pausing to close his eyes and take a deep breath. His eyes scan over the writing, some words still scribbled through as she changed it last minute.

Dear Laurie,

You have just told me you are leaving for Europe at the end of the week. I hate feeling as though I have caused this, why would you go when you’ve always been by my side for years? So, I am writing this note as a way of getting out all of the feelings that I have, with no repercussions of any. Laurie, you are the most wonderful man I have ever come to know, you love with your entire heart and everyone you meet is like a friend to you. I have fallen so deeply in love with you, so much that it hurts. I yearn and I long to be yours, but fear that would ruin what we have right now, or had once. So I have stayed silent. And in my silence, I have distanced myself, to shield myself from the pain. But I have to say, this is far more painful, knowing you are leaving and will find a woman to love, a love that I dream of. A love with you. A life with you. It has always been what I’ve wanted. Not this. Not distance of thousands of miles and so many hours away. I will miss you, and everything that we shared. But I will never stop loving you. No matter what.

Love,

(Y/N)

PRESENT

Laurie gently traces the last few sentences of the letter, a small grin back on his face as everything finally settles in. He looks over at her, folding the letter back up and shoving it inside his coat.

“I have something for you as well,” he murmurs, his hand remaining in the pocket and producing the small, black velvet box, a slight shake to his grip as the nerves set in. She stares at him, wondering what he has, and when he finally clicks open the box and hands it to her.

She gasps in shock, her hand flying up to cover her mouth, in surprise.

“Laurie…” she whispers.

“I noticed how much you were eyeing it, and knew I had to get it for you. Can I…?” His voice trails off as he motions to her neck. He carefully removes the necklace from the box and turns her slightly so that he can set the necklace around her neck, clipping it to secure it.

She looks down at it and smiles widely, the gem perfectly resting above her racing heart.

“This is too much, it was so expensive,” she tries to reprimand him.

“It is no issue, I wanted you to have it, you deserve to have pretty things.” Her cheeks heat up at his words and she sighs, looking down at her hands.

“Listen, I really am sorry for the way things went.”

Laurie, being cautious of his actions, tilts her chin up just slightly so that she can look into his eyes.

“How about we put it behind us and start a little bit before where we left off,” he offers. “Forget everything that happened months before I left. Like old times, but…no more hiding our feelings.” She softly smiles at his offer and takes a hold of his hands, squeezing them gently.

“I like the sound of that. Can I ask of one thing as well?”

“Of course, of course.”

“Kiss me.”

Laurie takes no time to think about her request and presses his lips to hers, his hand cupping her cheek and holding her close. The two get lost in their own little world, every single feeling they’ve had for each other coming to a boiling point and spilling out, both being unable to control their actions any longer.

Which is why the kiss lasts for minutes, making up for all the lost time that was spent yearning after each other in silence, for the two years that he was gone, everything. Their hands explore each other’s bodies, (Y/N)’s hands going to Laurie’s hair, and his hands running up and down her back and resting on her sides, his thumbs tenderly rubbing her hips.

When the kiss finally ends, he rests his forehead against hers, their breath mixing together in the chilly, rainy night.

“That was everything I’ve dreamed of,” Laurie whispers, moving his lips over to kiss her cheek. “And so much more.”

“I feel the same way. Staring at your lips every time you spoke, wishing I could kiss them all night. Wanting them…all over me.” Laurie blushes and giggles at the suggestive comment from her.

“Well, we now have all the time in the world, mon amour,” he whispers, kissing her once more and cradling her face again. “The rest of our lives, even.”

#laurie laurence #timothee chamalet #timothée chalamet #laurie laurence imagines #laurie laurence x reader #laurie laurence imagine #timothee chalamet imagines #little women #imagines #fanfiction #fanfic

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riordanness · 2 months

Text

i think he knows - [l.laurence]

wordcount: 1.3K

requested: no (but i am working on all my requests)

warnings: maybeee a wonka reference (my bad)

I lay side by side with Jo March, our hands intertwined, staring up at the clouds.

“You’re kidding, right?” Jo laughs. “That is definitely not a giraffe. It looks like a flamingo.”

I wrinkle my nose. “No way. It looks closer to a melted chocolate bar than a flamingo.”

She nudges me and laughs again. “Whatever.”

I sigh and close my eyes, my spare fingers playing with the blades of grass we’re lying on.

“This is the life,” Jo says quietly, as if she can read my thoughts.

“Mhm…” I reply, feeling sleepy and sun sick. We’ve been out all morning in the hot summer sun, and the effects are finally catching up on me.

“You know what would make today better, though?”

“What?” I’m barely paying attention now, my sleepiness wanting to take over.

“If Laurie was here.” Jo says it like it’s poetry.

I’m immediately awake. I sit up. “What did you say?”

Jo looks amused. “I said…that today would have been better if Laurie was here with us.”

I try to downplay my reaction with a shrug. “Yeah, that would have been nice I suppose.”

“Oh, y/n,” Jo teases. “Don’t try to pretend you aren’t head over heels in love with him.”

I look at her sharply. “Jo, don’t talk about such things.”

“It's true, though,” Jo insists. “Isn’t it?”

I look away. Of course it was true. Laurie Laurence was the one person I could never imagine not having in my life. I needed him like I needed air in my lungs. He was my sunlight, my happiness, my joy and my energy and my smile. He was my everything.

“Maybe it’s true,” I whisper. “But it’s not important. I will never matter to him the way that he matters to me.”

Jo is quiet for a while, her eyes narrowed as she stares into the deep blue nothingness of the sky.

I lay beside her, in comfortable silence, as my thoughts drift, as always, back to that boy with the laughing green eyes, unruly but beautiful dark hair, and that smile that fills me with everything I need.

I first met Laurie through the others. I’m lifelong friends with all the Marches, and being an only child, my days tend to be lonely. Marmee has me over as much as humanly possible. Sleepovers, performances, club meetings and dinners, walks and piano lessons, days at the beach, sketching in the garden, dances and dumb adventures. I do it all with those four girls.

Then one day, a boy joined in on our fun.

At first, it was nerve-wracking, doing all our usual antics in the presence of a boy. But I soon learned that Laurie was anything but judgemental, and better than that–he was amazing fun.

We became best friends.

Now, everything I did was with Laurie, or nearly everything. I’d spend every second with him if I could.

It’s like there’s magic in his smile.

“Laurie!” I shove open his front door, yelling up the stairs.

His curly head pops over the stairs, grinning down at me. “Hey, you.”

I squint up at him. “What are you doing? I thought we were going out today. You promised we’d go ice skating.” I wave my skates at him to prove my point.

Laurie winces. “I’m sorry, y/n. I know I did, but–” He makes a face. “I’ve got a cold and Grandfather forbade me to leave my room.” His features turn mischievous. “In fact, I’m risking his wrath just being out here in the hall.”

I roll my eyes at him. “Well, I guess I’ll have to come up there and entertain you then.”

“You’ll get sick!” Laurie shakes his head at me.

“Too late,” I say, as I drop my skates and coat at the door, and dash up the stairs.

Laurie watches as I hop, skip, and jump at the top stair, as I do every time (because he did it first, and I like to do everything he does). He stares at me with a small smirk on his face.

“What?” I ask, coming to a stop only a metre away from him. “It’s fun doing that at the top of the stairs. Like a little celebratory moment for conquering the staircase once again.”

Laurie laughs under his breath as he shakes his head slightly. “It’s nothing, my dear y/n. Hop at your heart's content.”

I shrug and head into his room, a lage, ornate chamber full of antique paintings and old books and clothes strewn all over the floor.

“Oh, my,” I say disapprovingly. “Laurie, you really need to tidy this place up a little if you want to get any better, you know.”

“I know,” Laurie sighs, falling sideways onto an armchair. “But I just don’t have your work ethic, y/n. I love being lazy and useless and spending my time doing silly, worthless things.”

I click my tongue. “Don’t be ridiculous, Laurie. I know you. You have it inside you to do great things with your life. You just have to want it enough, and to work hard for it. You can do it. I believe in you.”

I wander around the room busily, picking up dirty laundry and discarded books, and straightening the bedsheets. I can feel Laurie’s eyes on me, but it’s not an awkward feeling. If anything, it’s comforting. Being around him, everything is easier, safer. My words come out of my mouth easily. I don’t worry about saying the wrong thing or coming across as too blunt or anything like that. They can come right from my heart, because I know him better than anyone, and I see what Laurie is capable of.

“And you know, you can always–”

“Y/n.” Laurie gets to his feet.

My voice dies, and I frown at him uncertainly and I drop a small stack of books onto his desk.. “Yeah?”

“You know how the other day, um, you and Jo were hanging out in the gardens, watching the clouds?”

My eyes narrow a little, but I nod slowly. “Yes…? How did you know about that?”

Laurie doesn’t meet my eyes, rolling his tongue around in his mouth nervously. “I might’ve been spying on you?”

My hands are instantly on my hips as I give him a look. “Laurie Laurence.”

“I’m sorry!” he says immediately, holding his hands up like he’s surrendering. “I just… well, I heard what you were talking about.”

I try to think back. What would Jo and I have been talking about that was so important he’s bringing it back up now? I didn’t think we were discussing anything that exciting, except…

Oh.

My face goes slack, and my mouth drops slightly open. “You-you mean–”

Laurie nods and gets to his feet. “So it’s true?”

I want to lie, to shake my head and laugh it away, but my reaction has already made it obvious. I slowly nod my head yes, once, then twice.

Relief floods into Laurie’s features. “Oh, thank goodness.”

“What?” I ask, but my question is lost when Laurie attacks me with a hug.

“I love you, y/n,” he says softly into my hair. “I’ve loved you ever since Jo first introduced me to you that day in the attic. You might’ve been shy and wearing that silly costume; a battered overcoat and tattered suitcase, but I’d never seen a prettier girl. You help me be a better person, you’re always so encouraging and kind and hard-workig, and I just… I really love you.”

He pulls away, holding my shoulders and gazing at me.

I’m in disbelief, staring up into his eyes, my mouth still open.

He laughs, ducking his head a little. “You don’t have to say anything, y/n. You said enough the other day.” He pauses, licks his lips a little. “Y/n, can I kiss you?”

I can’t help but to smile. “Of course you can.”

His mouth meets mine, and it’s better than anything else in the world.

#timothée chalamet #laurie laurence x reader #laurie laurence #little women #fanfic #timothee chalamet imagines #timothee chalamet x reader #laurie laurence fanfic

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faithiegirl01 · 3 months

Text

Okay… okay…

I need a Willy Wonka (Timothée Chalamet version ovi 🙄) Hanahaki Disease fic…

Like could you guys just imagine the angsty vibes yet also the most fluffiest vibes from that?! Like the reader gets sick and decides to slowly just stop helping before also hiding away from Willy as much as she can. While poor Willy over here be all like “I don’t know what happened noodle, one day we were fine and the next she’s avoiding me?!” Then noodle who has obviously figured it out try’s so hard not to tell him at the request of the reader, but then she finds a way to get him to figure it out on his own. When he does obviously he’s running right to the reader to figure it all out.

Like come on?! I must have a fic like this. PLEASE someone, anyone write something along those lines!!!!

#timothee chalamet imagines #willy wonka x reader #willy wonka #timothée chalamet x reader #timothée chalamet #timothee chalamet imagine #timothee chalamet fic #wonka 2023 #wonka movie #wonka spoilers #wonka #wonka x reader #wonka imagine #wonka imagines #willy wonka x you #wonka x y/n

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andy-15-07 · 1 month

Note

Are your requests open??

I would love to see you where the reader/OFC is a concubine of Paul Atreides. She doesn’t get much attention from him but when she goes in to labor there is a complication and she becomes scared. Paul as the Emperor shows up to help her through the labor and starts developing a positive relationship with her and his child postpartum.

Thank you!! Please keep writing things you have passion for!! ❤️

Bonds Beyond Blood

masterlist ! pairing: Paul Atreides x reader

Dune Masterlist

Y/n lay on the ornate bed, her hand clutching the bedsheets tightly as pain wracked through her body. Sweat beaded on her forehead, her breathing shallow and labored. The midwives moved around her with practiced efficiency, but their words seemed distant, muffled by the intensity of her fear.

Paul Atreides, the Emperor, stood by the doorway, his expression a mask of concern. He had never been one to show much interest in Y/n, his concubine, beyond the duties of his station. But now, as he watched her struggle, something stirred within him.

"Is she going to be alright?" Paul asked the head midwife, his voice betraying a hint of anxiety.

The midwife glanced at him briefly before returning her attention to Y/n. "We are doing everything we can, Your Majesty. But there are complications. The baby's position is not ideal, and Y/n is exhausted."

Paul nodded, his jaw clenched. He couldn't shake the feeling of helplessness that washed over him. This was one situation he couldn't control with his political power or military might.

Y/n's cries filled the room, echoing off the walls of the chamber. Paul felt a pang of guilt deep within him. He had neglected her, taken her presence for granted. But now, seeing her in such agony, he couldn't ignore the bond they shared, however distant it had been.

Without a word, Paul crossed the room and took Y/n's hand in his own. She looked up at him, her eyes wide with fear and pain.

"Paul..." she gasped, her voice barely a whisper.

"I'm here, Y/n," Paul said softly, his tone soothing. "I won't leave your side."

Y/n squeezed his hand tightly, drawing strength from his presence. Despite their past indifference, she found solace in his touch, in the warmth of his hand against hers.

Minutes stretched into hours as Y/n endured the agonizing pain of labor. Paul remained by her side, offering words of encouragement and support. With each contraction, he whispered words of reassurance, his voice a steady anchor in the storm of her fear.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the sound of a baby's cry filled the room. Tears of relief streamed down Y/n's cheeks as she held her newborn child in her arms.

Paul watched, his heart swelling with emotion, as Y/n cradled their child against her chest. In that moment, he felt a connection unlike any he had ever known before. It wasn't just the bond of blood that tied him to this child, but something deeper, something more profound.

"I never knew..." Paul began, his voice faltering as he struggled to find the right words.

Y/n looked up at him, her eyes shining with tears. "Neither did I," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the soft cries of their child.

In the days that followed, Paul remained by Y/n's side, helping her adjust to motherhood and caring for their newborn child. With each passing day, their bond grew stronger, forged in the fires of adversity and nurtured by the love they shared for their child.

As they sat together in the quiet moments of the night, watching over their sleeping infant, Paul found himself opening up to Y/n in a way he never thought possible. He shared his fears, his hopes, his dreams for the future, laying bare his soul before her.

And in turn, Y/n shared her own hopes and dreams, her fears and insecurities, trusting Paul with her most intimate thoughts and feelings.

In the weeks and months that followed, Paul and Y/n's relationship blossomed into something beautiful and profound. They may have started as mere strangers, bound together by duty and circumstance, but now they were so much more than that.

They were partners, allies, confidants. And as they watched their child grow and thrive, they knew that no matter what the future held, they would face it together, united in love and devotion.

For in the end, it wasn't power or prestige that defined them, but the simple yet profound bond of family. And in that bond, they found the true meaning of happiness and fulfillment.

#paul atreides imagines #paul atreides x reader #paul atreides x female reader #paul atreides x you #paul atreides #paul atreides imagine #dune x you #dune x reader #dune imagines #dune imagine #dune part 2 #dune fanfiction #timothee chalamet imagine #timothee chalamet imagines #timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet x you #timothee chalamet x reader

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strawberriescherrieskiwi · 20 days

Text

Claiming

Requests:

Based on the HC

Wordcount: 3.7K+

Masterlist

Description: A Wedding of a Harkonnen Warrior and Atreides was written in the stars.... but no one saw that Paul would become Emperor and Feyd would be the last standing Harkonnen. The only thing to bind these two great houses is a wife that needs to be claimed.

A/N: This took so fucking long. Oh my god, I am sorry it took way too long. This was more difficult than I thought it would be, but still had fun writing these two crazy guys and their wife.

Warning: Dark Feyd. Dark Paul Blood lots of blood, crying, pain, dacryphilia, possessive Paul & Feyd dagger kink. Smut, breeding kink, dubcon, claming. Throple, passing out.

“You look beautiful. No bride has ever looked as breathtaking as you,” Margot said as she placed the chained veil over your face. She smiled warmly at you, or as warmly as she knew how to.

There was no warmth being a Bene Gesserit. Something that you were more than happy with. There was a time when you were younger when you fantasized about this scenario. Getting married and having a family, a home that wasn’t dark, cold, and in the shadows. The Reverend Mother made sure you stopped fantasizing. She let you know your only use was your womb and the child you would have. And you were okay with it. You had to be okay with it.

“You should be grateful. It is an honor to be chosen by the most powerful men in the universe,” Barked the voice of the women that put you in this position. Lady Jessica, the new Bene Gesserit Reverend Mother.

She was the reason your fate had changed. “The only person that should be grateful is you, Reverend Mother,” you said with hatred. “If not for me, who would fix the mistake you made. Falling in love and giving the duke a son.”

You were getting dressed for your wedding because she was stupid enough to fall in love. She ruined the plan and now you were to be punished for it. She glared at you and made her way over to you and grabbed the back of your neck.

“You will do well to mind your tongue, lest you want Feyd to cut it out.”

Her threat did the trick, you shut your mouth. You often got into trouble as a child never being about to keep your opinion and comments to yourself. The times you were left in a dark room or whipped into submission should have cured you, but it cursed you. It was why you were picked by the Heads of House Atreides and Harkonnen.

“I like your fire, I can’t wait to snuff it out,” Feyd said after you spit in his face when he grabbed your backside.

You scoffed and tried to pull away when you backed into someone else. Looking up, you saw the new emperor, Paul Atreides.

“Hello, little witch,” Paul chuckled placing his hands on your waist. “What do you think, cousin?” He asked Feyd but his eyes never left your face. His gaze bored into your eyes, glowing at the defiance he saw within yours. A smirk danced on his lips, and he leaned closer to you. You turned your head to look away from them both.

“I think she is an excellent choice. Beautiful, lively, and amusing,” Feyd chuckled, his lips biting harshly at your neck. He broke the skin and you gasped struggling to get away from them, but their grips were iron and you were stuck.

“I am a person,” you said. “If we must produce, we can be civil about it.”

Paul laughed this time and grabbed your throat pulling your head back until you were locked in his gaze once more. “We plan to more than produce with you. Has your coven not told you what we want of you?”

You tried to keep the confusion off your face, but their laughter told you that you failed. Grinding your teeth, you closed your eyes. A slap to your face had you gasping and opening your eyes. Feyd shoved his tongue done your throat and Paul took his place biting your neck.

You groaned and bit Feyd, but he only moaned and forced the mix of your blood and his down your throat. Moving in sync, Feyd moved to tear your clothes off and Paul’s mouth was on yours.

“Bite me,” he ordered.

You did as the order wished over you and his blood filled your mouth. You whimpered slightly but neither of them cared as they marked. A knock on the door had them pulling away and a Bene Gesserit walked in. You were too lightheaded to know which one.

“Have you made your choice, My lords?”

You learned that they didn’t just want a child. No, to bind House Atreides and House Harkonnen, they needed something to keep the houses united or more like someone. Your glorious purpose, the reason for your birth was to fix the mistake of Lady Jessica having Paul.

“Can’t they just marry each other,” you complained to Margot. She snorted and ducked her head when the other shot us both dark looks. I shrugged; it was a valid question with the amount of sexual tension those two had every time they were together.

“Brides should be seen not heard,” Jessica snapped, cupping her growing belly. You nodded with a tight smile and stood up in your green and black dress that honored both of their houses. You walked to the mirror to see yourself, but you didn’t care.

The hall appeared empty as the double doors opened and you walked in, but you knew that there were eyes in the shadows. A heated glare from the front room had you smirking slightly. The former princess hated you for being in the place she wished to be. You would happily give her your place, but you disliked her so you would pretend to be happy to spite her.

You stood in front of the Reverend Mother with your black turn as you waited for your husband to enter the sacred hall. The doors opened and they both entered but you still kept your gaze followed. You hated how you knew which steps belonged to her. Paul’s steps were light and purposefully with all the confidence, but Feyd strutted with heavy steps like a tiger waiting to pounce.

“Finally, the Great Houses will be united and with this union, our Kwisatz Haderach will be unstoppable. No other house will try to rise against you both. And the children produced will rule the known universe forever,” The Reverend Mother said.

The crowd was buzzing with excitement as you were led out into the Arena. You would laugh at their arrogance if you weren’t in the position you were in. They flew all the way to House Harkonnen and invited people from all over the universe for your claiming. You thought you had gotten lucky when your wedding night came without you being torn apart by them, but it seemed they were binding their time. Playing some sick game of foreplay to keep you on edge.

You were dragged to the center of the arena and told to kneel in the sand. “Bite me, bitch,” you mumbled to the Harkonnen warrior that forced you down. He ignored you and took the cloak off your shoulder. The crowd's cheers grew as they saw your mesh chain dress that left you completely exposed to their hungry gaze.

You took a deep breath and looked down at your hands. You would just pretend you were anywhere else but here. You ignored the slight tremble of excitement that crawled up your spine. If things were done differently, if you had a different life maybe you would fantasize about being taken so primally. The vulgar cheers from the crowd made it hard to find any enjoyment.

Chants of Paul’s name let you know he had entered the arena. You looked up to see him stalking towards you with all the finesse of a panther. His clothes let everyone know that he was the emperor and in charge. He smirked at you, and you rolled your eyes and looked away from him.

“Hello, my pet,” he said when he stood behind you, placing his hand on the back of your head. You bristled at his touch but made no other acknowledgment of his presence.

Feyd entered with cheers, and you couldn’t help but look his way. He was only in black leather pants that rode low on his waist. He, of course, was putting on a show for the crowd. Waving his arms around and egging them to cheer more.

He grinned widely and turned his gaze to you. He kept your gaze locked as he pulled his dagger out and pointed it at you suggestively.

“Maybe, if you are good for us, Feyd will fuck you with that handle. Won’t you like that?” Paul whispered in your ear. You shivered and looked back down at the sand. Your breathing picked up and you couldn’t tell if it was fear or lust.

Feyd took long strides to get to you both and toss you into the sand on your back. Your eyes widened as you stared up at your husbands as they leered down at you with lust-filled eyes. Feyd licked his lips and Paul reached down to grab you.

You gasped scrambling away from them. Your heart was beating fast and every vein in your body to run. To get as far away as you could from them and to hide, but it would be pointless. It would probably even turn them on. Looking at them they both stared down at you in amusement. They wanted you to run and you didn’t want to play into their hands.

“What are you going to do, little fox?” Feyd chuckled.

And with that, you decided to run. Scrambling to your feet you took off in the opposite direction of them as fast as you could. They both laughed loudly, and the crowd followed suit. They were mocking you, but you couldn’t focus on that right now.

“How about a wager, Emperor?” Feyd said. “The first one to catch her gets to have her first?”

Paul grinned and pulled out his own dagger. “You’re on.”

You cursed and ran towards the door. You knew it would be locked but it was the only place you could go. You wanted to bang on the door until it opened. Maybe one of your Bene sisters would take pity on you.

Paul took off running, but Feyd was quick to tackle him into the sand. Paul glared up at him and pressed his dagger to his throat. The crowd stilled and you froze to stare back at them. Feyd grinned down at Paul pressing himself into Paul’s dagger.

“What are you doing?”

“This is a claiming, isn’t it? We are bonded as we are to her, are we not?” Feyd grinned wickedly, his voice echoing around the dome.

“You fucking wish you could claim me,” Paul growled knocking Feyd off of him and straddling his waist. “I will slit your throat.”

“Will you? My Emperor,” Feyd teased.

Paul dug his dagger in Feyd’s neck and Feyd chuckled as the blood dipped down the knife. Paul narrowed his eyes pulled his knife back and licked the blood off. “I will deal with you later, Feyd Rautha,” He stood up.

Feyd loved getting under Paul’s skin and striking out at him, grabbing his ankle, and sending him to the ground. With a hand on Paul’s neck, his gaze lifted to you and your breath caught at the unadulterated stare.

“I’m going to catch her and fuck her into the sand and then you are next.” He spoke to Paul, but his gaze never left yours. You tore your gaze away and ran again trying to put as much distance between you and them. You cursed yourself for getting distracted by them.

Paul drove his dagger into Feyd's side. “I’ll catch her and then teach you a lesson on respect.” And then he was up and running after you. Your eyes widened. The last thing you wanted was for your husbands to kill each other. The marriage was supposed to stop the fighting between the two houses.

Feyd chuckled digging his fingers into his wounded side and smearing the blood on his face and took off after Paul. You ran left but Paul stood with a smirk on your face and when you turned to the right, Feyd stood there.

“Whose it’s going to be, little witch?” Feyd laughed.

You flipped him off and backed yourself into a corner as they both boxed you in. You glared at them both. Paul was the lesser of two evils but with how railed up he was you were unsure. “My husbands, shall we take a break, yes?”

Paul laughed and lunged at you, but Feyd lunged at Paul causing them both to tumble to the ground. They struggled for control, shoving each other and biting and tearing at each other clothes. Feyd pinned Paul with his legs and chuckled as he wrapped his hand around his throat.

“Yield, Emperor.”

“Paul dug his fingers into Feyd's side. Feyd moaned and Paul flipped him over. “Do you like moaning for your Emperor?” He asked his nose brushing against Feyd.

You thought now was the perfect time to sneak passed them and add distance but the moment you took a step both of them snapped their gaze to you. You gasped and backed up against the wall once more. You squeezed your thighs together and looked away from them.

Paul leaned closer to Feyd and whispered something that you were unable to hear because of the pounding of your heart. You risk it and go to run past him but in sync. Feyd grabs you around the waist and Paul grabs your shoulder. You fought against them, kicking and screaming, but they ignored you as they pulled you into the center of the arena.

“You’ve been caught, little fox. It is time we put out your little fire,” Feyd said, shoving you completely into Paul’s hold as he began to take off your dress. You continue to glare and fight them until Paul twists your arm behind your back and roughly cups one of your breasts. A moan slips out despite yourself and Feyd laughed.

“Do you like it rough, little fox? We can be rough if that is what you want, Can’t we Paul?”

Paul laughed and twisted your nipple and bit your jaw. “We can be as rough as you want, Pet.”

“Fuck you, both,” you winced as they shoved you to the ground on your hands and knees. You try to turn around to face them, but your head is shoved into the sand. A tight grip on your neck warned you to stay down so you kept your face buried in the sand.

You feel humiliated. You hated your husbands and you hated yourself for being so turned on. Their presence was overwhelming, and you closed your eyes trying to dissociate with everything. Trying to ignore the crowd of people watching you.

A hand came down hard on your ass causing you to cry out. They both chuckled and the hand came again and again, until you were sobbing into the sand. Your knees shook and you were afraid you would collapse, and you could feel slick run down your thighs.

“Look how wet our little wife is,” Paul said teasingly pushing two of his long fingers inside cunt. You gasped. You’ve been curious before about your body. You knew about pleasure, heard about it from the other girls, even been touched by them, but never had anything been inside of you.

“Such a greedy little thing she is,” Feyd agreed. “Look at how she is taking your fingers,” He moved around until he was in front of you. Grabbing your hair, he pulled your head and forced you to look at him. “So pretty when you cry for us.”

You wanted to spit a curse at him, but Paul curved his fingers and your mouth opened and you moaned loudly. Feyd’s eyes darkened at your noise, and he tugged your hair harshly. With his free hand, he pulled his cock out stroking himself as he watched Paul add another finger and your moans grew louder.

He was at a crossroads. He wanted to choke you on his cock but the sounds you were making were too good to lose. Feyd looked from you to the curly-haired Emperor a smirked split his face as an idea formed. “My Emperor, don’t you think her noises are just too good to muffle?” He asked, slapping your breasts to prove his point when you gasped.

Paul was transfixed with your tight little cunt. You were so greedily sucking him in, stretching so well for him. The perfectly little pet for him and his cousin. He didn’t look up at Feyd’s words, but he nodded in agreement. “It would be a shame to lose such pretty sounds.

“Then we are in agreement,” Feyd said, dropping your head and moving to grip Paul’s curls and pulling his hand back.

“What the are you-” Paul’s words were cut off as Feyd’s cock was forced between his lips. Paul glared up at Feyd and tried to move his hand, but Feyd’s grip didn’t let up as he shoved his cock down Paul’s throat. Feyd groaned as Paul’s throat constricted around him.

Paul’s anger turned on you, as he shoved you onto the ground and shoved his fist into your cunt. You screamed in a mix of pain and pleasure, your eyes rolled in the back of your head as you came around his fist. Paul didn’t stop, he fucked you as hard as Feyd fucked his throat. The crowd watched transfixed the way you all moaned and lost yourself.

Feyd gripped Paul’s chin pulling his cock out slowly. Looking at the fucked out looked on the emperor’s face. Saliva dropped down Paul’s face and Feyd chuckled darkly. “As much as I would like to spill myself down your throat. I think our wife should get my seed first.”

Paul stood up and shoved Feyd away from him. He grabbed your upper arm and pulled you to your feet. “Undress me, pet,” he ordered. You whined you were still reeling from your orgasm but made quick work of his cock. His cock was hard, and you licked your lips staring at him. A moment that didn’t go unnoticed by your husbands.

“You will get a taste, but my cock will fuck you open first,” Paul said, gripping your waist and hoisting you into his arms. You gasped and wrapped your arms around his shoulder. Feyd pressed himself against your back, boxing you between the two of them. Feyd gripped one side of your hip and Paul grabbed his cock guiding it to your cunt and forcing his way into you in one thrust. You gasped and you released a long drawn-out moan.

“Fuck, little pet. You are so fucking tight,” Paul groaned.

“And she’s about to be tighter,” Feyd said.

His words registered a second later when you felt his cock rubbing against your clit and pressing against your already stuffed hole. “Wait, Wait. No. You can’t,” you gasped struggling against the two of them.

“Enough,” Paul said, biting your neck. You ignored him as Feyd’s pushed his cock into your cunt. You felt as if you were being torn apart. You dug your nails into Paul’s shoulder and his teeth dug into your neck more.

Feyd growled when you refused to open up for him. “Fuck, let me in,” He ordered, grabbing both your hips and forcing you down on his cock. Your mouth flew open, but no sound came out. Your vision blurred and you fainted from the pain.

“Looks like our little witch couldn’t handle us,” Paul chuckled, pressing your hair out of your face.

Feyd scoffed, grabbing your head and tugging it roughly until your eyes blinked. “You need to be awake for your claiming, little fox,” Feyd said, slapping your face.

“Too full,” you said through clenched teeth. You hated that the pain was fading, and you were starting to enjoy the feeling of your husbands fucking into you. You bit your lower lip and dug your nails into Paul’s shoulders.

“Don’t be stubborn, pet,” Paul said. He and Feyd work in sync as they fucked you. One thrust into you and the only pulled out so you were never empty.

“Don’t fight it. You love us using you. Go ahead and moan for us,” Feyd said. He grabbed your breasts and twisted your nipples. You cursed and moaned out. The noise rang throughout the arena but you didn’t care anymore.

“Fuck fuck fuck. Please, feels so good,” you begged, feeling tears running down your face. Paul laughed, grabbed the back of your neck, and pulled you in for a bruising kiss. He devoured your mouth, shoving his tongue down your throat. Moaning, you bit his tongue. Paul chuckled pulling back from the kiss. Feyd was instantly kissing you, biting your tongue, and exploring your mouth. Your eyes rolled back and you squeezed around their cocks as you moaned into Feyd’s mouth and came, soaking both their cocks.

“Fuck, squeeze our cocks, little witch,” Feyd groaned forcing himself faster and harder inside of you. Paul moaned and pulled you closer to his body. Feyd shoved himself closer to you both, causing you all to fall on the floor. But they didn’t stop, Paul slapped your ass, and you rode his cock as Feyd drilled into you from behind.

“Do you love how my cock feels against yours inside of our wife?” Paul taunted Feyd.

Feyd growled and leaned over you and bit Paul’s lip. Your chest pressed against Paul’s and Fedy pressed into your back. You bit Paul’s chest and he threw his head back moaning as he came. Feyd laughed, pulling out of you, giving his cock a few pumps, and cumming on both your spend bodies.

Paul pulls out of you and shoves you into the sand. You moved into your elbows, but he shoved you back down. “We are not done with you yet, wife. We will claim you until the sun goes down and then we will take you to our chambers where you’ll stay until you are carrying an heir.”

Feyd spread your legs and slapped your ruined cunt. “Look at you, gaping from our cock. Are you ready for another round?” He asked, slapping your cunt again.

You whined but glared at both of them as they stared down at you. “Well, get on with it then,” you said, though you were more than happy to be claimed by them again and again and again.