synopsis: your celebrity crush reveals his admiration for you and you can't help but tease him for it in your run in on the met gala
part 2
It was supposed to be a quiet day on set. Your latest project had been keeping you busy, and today was no different—costume fittings, script run-throughs, and a few late takes. The steady hum of activity kept you focused, but when you returned to your trailer for a break, your phone was blowing up.
Texts from friends, a slew of Instagram notifications, and several unread emails. Confused, you opened one from your manager, the subject line simply reading: You’ll want to see this.
It was a clip.
Timothée Chalamet, sitting comfortably on a late-night talk show, was in the middle of one of his now-infamous animated interviews. His laughter filled the screen, infectious and boyish, and for a brief moment, you smiled, charmed by him like everyone else.
But then the question came.
"So, Timothée, who’s your celebrity crush?"
The audience whooped, the host leaned in with a knowing grin, and Timothée, trying to play it cool, gave a little shrug.
He hesitated, his fingers running through his tousled curls in that effortless way only he could pull off. And then, with a tiny, almost bashful smile, he said your name.
Your actual name.
You froze.
The host’s mouth fell open, clearly not expecting it. "Really? Her?"
Timothée’s cheeks flushed pink, but he nodded. "Yeah, I mean, she’s incredible. Just ridiculously talented, you know? And beautiful, obviously. But she just seems..." He trailed off, his hands moving as if to grab the words out of the air. "...Like, really cool. Smart. Genuine. I don’t know, there’s something about her."
You watched the clip in stunned silence, replaying it again. And again. And again.
The internet was already in flames. tweets, tiktoks, and instagram edits were flooding your notifications. Fans were losing their minds. You didn’t even have time to process how you felt about it.
a week later
The Met Gala red carpet was chaos in the best way. Flashing cameras, booming voices, and the rush of silk, sequins, and couture gowns swept around you. You moved down the carpet like you’d done a hundred times before—posing for photos, answering questions, and offering polite smiles to everyone who crossed your path.
But tonight was different. You could feel it.
The buzz in the air, the way reporters whispered to each other before approaching you. It wasn’t hard to figure out why.
“Has Timothée seen you yet?” a cheeky journalist asked as you posed, their microphone in your face.
You laughed it off, tilting your head. "I have no idea," you replied, trying to keep your voice light. "But I think that’s the question of the night, huh?"
You moved on quickly, your heart hammering in your chest. The thought of running into him tonight had lingered in the back of your mind all week, but now, as the moment seemed to inch closer, the reality of it hit you.
And then it happened.
You felt it before you saw him—the weight of his gaze. Turning slightly, your eyes met his, and everything else seemed to blur out of focus.
He looked... breathtaking. A perfectly tailored avant-garde suit hugged his lean frame, the kind only he could make look effortlessly cool. His hair was swept back just enough to still be messy, and his lips curled into a soft, almost shy smile as he walked toward you.
The cameras went berserk.
He stopped just a foot away, his eyes never leaving yours. "Hey," he said, his voice low and familiar, as though you weren’t surrounded by hundreds of people and a sea of flashing lights.
"Hey," you replied, your throat suddenly dry.
He hesitated, his hands tucked into his pockets as he glanced around. "So... I feel like I should apologize."
You raised an eyebrow, your lips tugging into a smile. "For what?"
"For accidentally turning your life into a circus," he said, his grin sheepish, his cheeks tinged with the faintest hint of red.
You laughed softly, the sound cutting through your nerves. "It’s fine. If anything, you gave my publicist a new hobby. Crisis management is her favorite thing."
His laugh was boyish and genuine, and for a moment, it was just the two of you.
"You really do look amazing," he said after a beat, his voice softer now. His eyes traced the intricate details of your gown like he wanted to memorize it.
"So do you," you replied, and then, feeling a little bold, you added, "Though I guess you don’t need me to tell you that."
He chuckled, shifting slightly closer. "Not true. Compliments mean a lot more when they’re coming from you."
You felt the heat rise in your cheeks, and you were thankful for the dimmed lights that kept the moment from feeling too exposed.
Before either of you could say more, a handler appeared at Timothée’s side, gently reminding him he had to finish the carpet.
He glanced at them, then back at you, clearly reluctant to leave. "Guess I’ll see you inside?"
"Maybe," you teased.
As he turned to go, he shot you one last look over his shoulder, his eyes glinting with something you couldn’t quite name. Excitement, maybe. Or curiosity.
And as the night wore on, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was far from over.
Warnings- smut, unprotected sex, slut shaming, name calling and trash talk during sex, oral (male receiving), dom male, spitting in mouth, teasing, mentions of alcohol, publish sex, mentions of masturbation, mentions of drugs, calling male Master, begging, dry humping, rough sex, choking, hair pulling, mouth fucking, desperate, fucking in front of a mirror
Pairing - Regulus Black/Fem!Reader Rosier
I knocked back a firewhisky. Evan looked at me in admiration.
"You didn't even make a face," he said in awe. He had, had too much of the plant that someone had snuck from the Herbology Green House.
"Yeah, it's almost like I like to party," I chuckled. Every weekend my cousin seemed to forget I was the queen of partying. He was such a lightweight.
"By the way," Evan said. "I need to give you your weekly reminder."
"I'm so fucking sick of this," I snapped, grabbing another shot.
"I can't trust you, you've run through half of Slytherin house," he snapped.
"Slut shaming much," I said, downing the alcohol.
"Not shaming, just begging. Please don't fuck my best friend," he said.
"Why do you give a shit," I hedged. To be honest, Regulus Black was the finest Slytherin in the whole house. I'd had a crush on him for ages.
"You're gonna make him obsessed with you. He'll never want to talk to me again," he complained.
"You whine too much," I snapped, as I stood up to dance. I went to the dance floor. I was moving my hips, and feeling myself. Suddenly, I felt hands on my waist.
"Hello?" I asked, in a sultry tone. I turned to see him. Regulus Black.
"I don't often see you at these parties," I said with a smirk.
"Maybe I saw something that caught my eye," he purred. He was gorgeous. Emerald robes, black curls, a sexy smirk. How was I meant to resist? It was impossible.
"You know, my cousin says to stay away from you," I said.
"Do you wanna listen to Rosier?"
"I'm a Rosier too you know," | chuckled.
"Yes, but you're the smart one," he said.
"Well, all I know is, I wanna feel you," I said, as I pressed a hand against his chest. "Whatever you'll give me, I want it."
"Come to the bathroom with me," he ordered. I was more than happy to oblige.
"You tease me all the time," he growled at me, when he got me alone.
"Hmmm, does it bother you? Do I bother Regulus Black when I wear tiny skirts? Do I bother the Slytherin Quidditch Captain when I dance? Do I bother the Head Boy when I lick my lips slowly at dinner? So important. A Black, even a pure blood, yet I have you whipped."
He was taking deep breathes, as though he could hardly handle what I said.
"You should be taught a lesson," he snarled.
"By all means," I bowed. "Teach me."
I was slammed against the door roughly. He was giving me a hard bruising kiss. His hand was on my jaw, holding it open. He spat into my mouth, and I took it gladly. His hand moved down to my throat as he ground his clothed length against me. I moaned.
"You're such a slut aren't you, I bet you think of me all the time and you touch yourself," he snapped.
"How did you know," I said after he released my throat.
"Running through the whole year, but never me huh?"
"Saving the best for last," I replied.
"Clothes off," he demanded. I swished my wand and I was naked before him. I could see his hardness through his robes.
"What a pretty little cock whore," he smirked. "All your good for is to be used."
I nodded, and fell to my knees. I could tell he liked my willing nature."From now on, your mine, you're not going to touch anyone else, understood?"
"Yes master," | agreed, and I heard him moan at the name.
"I rather like that coming from you," he said as he waved his wand so that he was also naked. His cock stood at attention, veiny and long, I was salivating. I took him into my mouth.
"Eager," he ground out as I bobbed my head. He was gripping the sink, hissing in pleasure. My tongue circled the head of his cock expertly. His hand grabbed my hair hard, so that tears pricked my eyes. He was thrusting into my mouth now. Suddenly, he stopped.
"Get up," he demanded. He whirled me around, so now I was gripping the sink.
"Look at you," he said. I looked in the green studded mirror. My mascara was running from the tears in my eyes, saliva dripped down my chin, my hair was in tangles from his hands.
"Suck a good slut," he said, hands running down my form from behind. They reached my heat and he chuckled.
"You're dripping darling," he said before beginning to put pressure on my clit.
"Please, Regulus," | begged. His fingers danced around the sensitive bundle of nerves. He was absolutely infuriating, but I would wait it out. Anything to have him fully at some point.
Just then I felt the tip of his cock at my entrance. He was still teasing! Pushing his tip in, only to remove it. Tears of desperation stung in my eyes.
"Apologize," he whispered in my ear before kissing my neck. "Apologize for all the things you've put me through."
"I'm so, oh Regulus, I'm so sorry. Please forgive me," | blubbered.
"Now I wanna hear you beg," he said cruelly.
"Please Regulus, I want your cock. I want you to fill me, Regulus, Master, please," I pleaded.
"More," he said, and grabbed one of my tits roughly, kneading the flesh.
"Please Regulus, impale me with your cock. I wanna be full. I want you inside me. I can't live if you don't fuck me right now. I'd die to have your cock in me. Please!"
"Alright darling," he said, and finally pushed into me. I screamed in pleasure, and Regulus didn't seem interested in quieting me.
"The whole party is going to know how good I make you feel," he laughed as he began to thrust in and out.
"You're so big, ah," I was white knuckling the sink as he slammed into me. I couldn't believe the spots he was hitting. I felt like I was on a whole other plane of existence.
"Has anyone else ever fucked you this good?" He demanded as he kept up his ungodly speed.
"Never," was all I could get out. He began to massage my nipples, bringing me even more thrills of sensation.
"Fuck, Regulus, you're a God!" I whimpered as he thrust into me.
"That's right I am," he said and his hand went up to my neck, and put pressure on it.
"Watch yourself darling, watch yourself come undone."
His words nearly had my eyes rolling back into my head, but I did as he commanded. He was a dark figure behind me, an expression of pure lust on his face. His hand dropped from my neck to my clit and I was shaking.
My orgasm washed over me, and I lost all control, screaming his name and seeing white. I was vaguely aware of him cursing and cumming inside me. When I came down, his cum was dripping down my thighs.
"That was so good," I panted, legs wobbly. We used our wands to clean up and walked out. Evan was waiting for me, arms crossed, a furious expression on his face.
"Sorry cousin," I said patting his cheek. "Your best friend has a great cock."
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.
a/n: I wasn’t going to post this but I couldn’t resist it so here it is. I’ll probably make 2 or 3 more parts of this. Enjoy!
tchalamet
liked by robertdowneyjr, zendaya, florencepugh and 13,395,207 others
tchalamet 1095 days with you. thank you for making me the luckiest guy on earth. so ready for round four. let’s do it again, my twin flame.
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yourusername let’s gooo 💃🏻💃🏻💃🏻
tchalamet 🕺🏻🕺🏻🕺🏻
yourusername loveyouloveyouloveyou
tchalamet loveyoumoreloveyoumore
zendaya 🥹🥹🥹
robertdowneyjr happy anniversary you two, kiddos.
yourusername thank you 🥺
tomholland2013 so happy for you two mate!
tchalamet thank you so much brother!
ynmybaby AWWWW 💗💗
ynandtimmy did he just call her his twin flame??? 🥹🥹🥹🥹
timotheefan15 YES HE DID SIS 🤧🤧
timochalamtt time flies 🥹🤧
timmyfan i remember the day i learned they were dating 🥲
ynfan2 i’m so happy for them 💞
pauline.chalamet HAPPY 3 YEAR ANNIVERSARY MY BABIES 💗🥹✨
tchalamet THANK YOU PAAAAAULINE!!! 💫🦄💗
timmytimmy EVERYONE, SAY THANK YOU ZENDAYA FOR INTRODUCING THESE TWO
ynmybaby Thank you Zendaya! ❤️❤️
ynandzendayafan Thank you sooo much queen!!
timofann thank you Zendaya!!!!
ynandtimmy Thank you queen!
tchalamet THANK YOU ZENDAYA!!!!
zendaya you’re welcome my babies!!
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yourusername
liked by tchalamet, zendaya, kyliejenner and 14,395,175 others
yourusername 3 years, 1095 days. yet i still feel like we met yesterday. i can’t and probably never will get enough of you. let’s do it again, mon amour.
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tchalamet i love you so much it hurts.
yourusername good to know our feelings are mutual sir.
florencepugh crying rn 🥺💙
chanelofficial Happy Anniversary you two!
timofann Chanel celebrating their ambassadors anniversary. Wowza 🫨
zendaya seeing you two so happy makes me feel like crying i’m not even kidding
yourusername babyyyy 😭
zendaya i’m a proud mama
yourusername love ya mama
ynmybaby i love their friendship so much 🥺
zendayafann I adored them since their Disney times 😭
ynandzendayafan and look at them now. they found their soulmates and living their best life 🥹
ynsbabygirl they deserve it 🫶🏻
tomholland2013 love you guys!!!
yourusername love you too!!!
ynsbabygirl it’s supposed to be 4 years but- 😭
chalafann ugh I wish they never broke up but I’m grateful bc they’re happy now.
ynmybaby not Kylie liking the post 💀
timmytimmy i was laughing for hours
ynsbabygirl i’m so embarrassed for her
randomuser why? what did i miss? 🥲
timotea0 long story short, according to some “sources” kylie and timothee was dating since the new years. kris jenner and some pr team fueled the story by some pics but none of them actually worked. bc even though him and yn broke up at that time he was still so in love with her so he denied everything about the rumors and admitted that he was still in love with yn. then tom holland and zendaya made them get back together.
randomuser oh god, what a loser she is.
timotheefan15 ikr
kidcudi you guys are so cute
stephanebak my guy and my girl being the cutest couple
pauline.chalamet ok but when are you gonna be my sister officially????
*liked by tchalamet
ynandtimmy WHAT IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?!
ynmybaby Y/n Chalamet era soon?????
timmychalamet9 omg omg omg omg
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voguemagazine
15,395,186 likes
voguemagazine Y/n L/n and Timothée Chalamet are recently seen at a dinner in Venice with Zendaya and Tom Holland, celebrating the couple’s anniversary.
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ynmybaby my fam 🥰🥰🥰
ynsbabygirl i think they’re on a well deserved vacation together 🤧
timotheefan1 they are! 🥹
ynandtimmy the way he looks at her 🥺
zendayafan i love their friendship so much
tomhollandfann seeing them together makes me even more excited for their upcoming movies and euphoria’s new season! I miss Zendaya and Y/n together!
ynsbabygirl same here! I still can’t decide which one should i go first. Y/n and Tom’s or Dune 2???
zendayafan0 ok but i need all of them in a movie together 😩
timotheefan15 same girl same 🤧
chalafann i love how he nuzzles his head on her neck awwwww
ynandzendayafan they’re having so much fun 🥹
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zendaya
liked by tchalamet, tomholland2013, yourusername and 13,495,184 others
zendaya sisters having fun. period.
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yourusername so you’re not gonna mention how you tried to sink me into the water huh??
zendaya i have no idea what you’re talking about miss
tomholland2013 should i be offended by the way you didn’t post at least one picture of us or..? You didn’t even mentioned that we took them :(
tchalamet you should get used to it bro🥲
tomhollandstan LMAOOO
ynsbabygirl aww poor boys lolll
ynmybaby POWER DUO 👑
zendayafan45 SLAYYY 💅🏻
timotea0 🥹🫶🏻
tommyfan1 you two are sooo cute
zendayafan9 love you guyss
florencepugh i missed you two 🥺
yourusername we missed you too bby 🤧
zendaya come over so we can ditch the boys and hang out together!!!
Description: After you and Paul talk of your inevitable future, you end up making out with him in the hallway outside his room. From there, you both struggle through a tension-packed mental battle between logic and lust.
Warnings: Fem!reader, princess!reader, Corrino!reader, mentions of sexual activites(still no actual smut YET), lots of tension, grinding/dryhumping, biting, (SPOILER: interrupted sexual tension)
Author's note: I DID NOT PROOFREAD THIS! So sorry if there are any mistakes and I apologize for the long wait! I was in a writer's block and worked on this like once a week, lol. I'm still figuring out the plot as I go because there are so many good opportunities for the future events I'm cooking up. Anyways, enjoy! Next part will have actual smut I promise. But again, this is my first fanfic so please give constructive criticism!
Approximately 5 minutes after discussing your and Paul's impending future, you had found yourself pushed up against a cool, stone wall in an empty hallway outside Paul's sleeping chambers. Your twisting, deprived fingers are grasping at his dark curls as your lips crash against each other’s. His arms were wrapped around your body, effectively pinning you against the wall as you kissed passionately. Each layer of the built-up tension from earlier was releasing, but it was far from concluding.
You both had fled the monotonous ‘party’ due to the fact it was in no way synonymous with the mood you and Paul had been brewing with every word that spilled so naturally from each of your mouths. Paul, without any further consideration, had swiftly escorted you out of the party a few minutes ago after you had given him just one look and he had understood you both wanted this calm night to end the same way: passionately.
The hallway you both now stand in is dark and cold—quite ominous, really, but both you and Paul are too consumed in the intense encounter to notice. Paul’s firm, muscular body presses against yours further, his large hands roaming over your soft curves. He cupped your face as your lips met, the touch electric and full of desire. Paul moans softly as he explores your mouth, his tongue dancing with yours. He was a man who usually had control of his emotions, but you were quickly making him lose all bearing. Paul was completely unraveling. He has never felt such a strong sensual feeling that is so meaningful yet so new and foreign. And god, your lips were so sweet, so soft.
Every physical interaction between you and Paul was invigorating—enhancing the unreal desire you both hold towards each other. Each second in which you kissed was binding; every time your tongue brushed against his was prophetic—biblical. It was nearly ritualistic, the mixture of such noble DNA, a concoction that the Bene Gesserit sisterhood had been planning for a millennium—but you and Paul weren't aware of this—yet. So, as his hands grasp your hips and push them into his, you two entirely forget about the most important part of your conversation earlier: the implications that may arise from you and Paul engaging in… sexual acts.
As the kiss deepens and your bodies become more intimately locked together, Paul finds himself lost in the moment. The feel of your soft lips and taste were all that mattered. He couldn’t think clearly, his mind consumed by the overwhelming desire for you. Paul’s hands wandered further, exploring your body with an increased fervor. It was as if he can’t get enough of you, like he needs you more than oxygen—more than a space navigator needs spice to find the safest path through fold space. But somewhere within him, deep inside, a nagging thought began to form…
Paul wanted more—needed it. Yet deep down, there was that persistent, unrelenting voice of reason reminding him of the consequences of his actions. It consumed him for a moment, an inner voice scolding him to rethink his decisions. The voice reminded him of his mother’s, how she used to shout at him when he was a boy. Except the voice was different, urgent, as if it was calling out to direct him to the correct path—except it also wasn’t a voice at all. It was a feeling.
He breaks the kiss momentarily, holding your gaze, his forehead pressing against yours. “Princess… We… We should talk. There are things we need to consider before we…” he whispers, his sentence trailing off. He lifts a hand to touch your face, his thumb gently running across your bottom lip. It was hard for him to come to his senses. The conflict between desire and reason was visible in his emerald green eyes. Paul sighs as he takes in your confused but understanding expression; presently battling inner thoughts to pull you in and ravish you again, so he instead buries his face in your neck so he doesn’t have to look into your seductive, bewitching eyes.
You had whined softly as he broke the kiss, looking up at him with your sensuous lips in a soft pout. You sighed at his words, considered them, and giggled as he nestled his head into your neck to avoid your irresistible gaze. You understand his concerns—share them, even. But you found the scene quite humorous, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of your lips as you looked around the hall—empty, dimly lit, conveniently romantic, and around 5 steps away from Paul’s bedroom. Before responding, you sigh again, leaning your head back against the stone wall in disbelief.
“You want to talk… here? And now?” you ask, dipping your head down to look at the avoidant and flustered Paul Atreides, the man who was fighting an internal battle between whether he should be making love or discussing logic. He couldn’t help but smirk at your response. It was true; the setting was far from ideal for conversation, given the current level of physical desire. But he knew you both had to consider the consequences of such impending actions.
Paul tilted his chin back up so he was looking at you directly. “I understand the irony of the situation, princess… But there are things that we need to talk about, things that will be much harder when your lips are otherwise… occupied,” he whispered, his voice deep and gravelly. You couldn’t help but blush at his suggestive rhetoric, especially with the way he was looking at you right now: solemnly, seriously, seductively. You smile softly, studying each perfect detail of his divinely sculpted face.
You tilt your head to the side so you can turn your gaze towards Paul’s bedroom door, which was conveniently close. “How about we talk in there?” you whisper, then add—in case he had any objections—”only talk. Nothing else,” with a playful smirk on your face. You didn’t mind how this night would end, whether you would end up in his bed, his clothes… or in your Corrino palace on your planet, Kaitain. Either conclusion sounded fine, the latter a little less—but still, you had no room to complain, for Paul was correct. You were simply going with the wind, wherever it blows.
Paul had followed your eyes to his bedroom door, his body still pressed close to yours. He knew it would be damn near impossible to maintain any semblance of control if you were in there with him. Temptation was high, the desire to continue this physical reaction stronger than ever, but he knew you both had to have a more in-depth conversation regarding implications. He looks back at you, noticing you, too, were having the same conflict in your eyes between lust and logic. Paul sighed, his grip on your waist loosening slightly. “Alright, and only talk,” he agreed. “If we let our… desires take over once we cross the threshold… we might not be able to stop,” he warns, but you nod in agreement, soothing his nerves.
Paul sighs heavily before releasing his grip on your body, whining softly as you do the same, and takes your hand in his. He slowly leads you to his bedroom, and you both could already feel the tension rising between the two of you once again.
. . .
Paul’s bedroom was tastefully decorated, with an air of understated and minimalistic, clean luxury. He had taken exceptional care to create a space that reflected his personal style—sleek, contemporary, with subtle touches of opulence. The room was immense, with walls of smooth, grey stone like that of the hallway. Glowglobes were suspended in the air around shoulder length in each corner of the room, casting a soft, orange, ambient light that only made the setting more dangerously romantic.
Paul leads you to a pair of grey, modular, leather armchairs set at an intimate distance from each other. He clears his throat, gently guiding you to sit down at one of the chairs and taking a seat at the one opposite of you. Paul still held your hand but maintained a respectful distance to prevent the long-awaited continuance of your physical encounter from earlier. The cool leather of the armchairs contrasted with that heated exchange from earlier, which still left a sweet taste in both of your mouths.
Suddenly, he speaks, his words startling the quiet, tension-saturated room. “Princess,” he begins, his mind still swirling with the possibilities, paths, and gateways towards future events. “I feel as though I want to be with you,” Paul continues, then blinks the words away and clears his throat, tilting his head and gaze towards the floor. “No, no,” he mumbles, “I want to be with you. I know I want to be with you, and that scares me because I do not know you and you do not know me, but… we also know each other so well,” he rambles, and you understand his words and their meaning. You also sympathize with his confusion because you shared it, for it was a very, very confusing thing happening between you both.
He slowly lifts his head and gazes up towards you, seeking your reply: acceptance or denial. His eyes are swirling with delicate and raw emotion that complements his emerald green eyes like cheese and wine. You smile ever so softly, gently caressing his hand with your thumb to soothe his nerves, which worked instantaneously, resulting in his pupils dilating slightly. “Do you want to know me?” you whisper, your voice suddenly vulnerable and quiet, and as soon as they leave your lips, you feel weepy. It was almost as if you didn’t want to ask because you can’t help but fear the answer. You don’t know Paul’s intentions yet, scarily unsure if he’s lying or bearing his soul to you in this moment.
“Yes.” Paul replied quickly and without a hint of hesitation, squeezing your hand softly and eagerly leaning closer to you so he could look at you directly in the eyes, taking in the sight of your gaze. He knew that you were arrestingly beautiful, but he also knew there was much more beneath the surface of your perfect face. There was something so intriguing about you that he couldn’t quite place, something that drew him in and made him want to the edge of need.
You open your mouth to reply, but he hushes you by gently pressing his lips against yours. You smile against his lips, and he pulls away slowly, by a hair's breadth, so his head is pressed against yours as he adds, “I want to know what makes you smile… and what makes you cry. I want to hear what you dream about and what keeps you up at night… what scares and soothes you. I want to know you. You, not just the noble princess, but the person who is you.”
Paul’s words were spoken with such sincerity and fervor that they stirred you. You hadn’t expected him to want to know you on such a personal level; rather, you had assumed he was solely drawn to your physical appearance and noble status, yet he desired to know what made you you, to understand your thoughts, dreams, fears, and what made you a human. That was a rarity. You were speechless; you knew it, and so did Paul.
A few seconds pass, and Paul accepts that you don’t know how to reply. His voice drops to a deeper, huskier tone as he leans in close to your neck this time, a smirk on his lips as his fingers trace a slow, feather-light path down the side of your perfect face. “There’s something else I want to know… something I can’t quite shake from my thoughts,” he whispers, his breath hot on your sensitive neck. You sigh as he presses his lips against the soft skin below your jaw; his hand is now at the back of your head, fingers intertwined in your hair.
Your heart quickens at his tender touch, the anticipation and tension building between you both with each passing second. Paul pulls back slightly so he could see the expression on your pretty face as the next words left his mouth: “I want to know what it would feel like to taste you… to touch you, feel you… in a way that goes far beyond mere words or intentions,” he rasps, glancing down at your lips before looking at you deep in the eyes.
“Paul… I…” You begin but never finish. There was nothing you were obligated to say, but there were things you wanted to do. He was looking at you with such a longing expression that was laced with intense desire. His hands grab yours, and he pulls you closer to him, so you stand up and find yourself straddling him on his lap, your dress riding up slightly as you do so. He sprawls back, a devilish smirk on his face as you wrap your arms around his neck and he places his hands on your hips.
As you lean down to place soft kisses on his neck, he whispers, “I want to know every… intimate detail about you, my princess. I want to know what brings you pleasure, what sets you on fire, what drives you to the edge and… back again,” he murmurs into your ear, his sentence crumbling as you gently nip on the skin on his neck and grind your hips into his.
Paul tightens his grip on you, guiding you closer and encouraging the grinding of your hips as a low moan escapes his throat. “You have no idea what you do to me,” he manages to groan out, his fingers digging into the rich fabric of your dress. Your soft kisses and nips make him shiver. “You drive me crazy, princess, you know that?” he whispers, tossing his head back as you begin to place open-mouthed kisses on his neck, leaving tiny little red marks.
“Oh yeah?” You whisper, “If you’re already crazy, you’re going to be as psychotic as Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen by the time I’m finished with you.” You tease, trying to gain at least some semblance of dominance after Paul had you speechless a few minutes ago. Your witticism puts a grin on Paul’s face; he was almost sure he loved you already.
Just then, before Paul could shoot back his witty reply, a knock on the door breaks the spell of the moment. Someone is clearly, urgently, outside the door trying to get Paul’s attention.
summery: y/n(she/her) and Timothée's seceret relationship is outed by a paparazzo
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Timothée Chalamet had always been protective of Y/N. From the moment they met at a mutual friend’s gathering, there was something about her that drew him in—her warmth, her kindness, and the way she looked at the world with wonder. But above all, it was the way she made him feel like he could just be Timothée, not the actor, not the public figure, just a guy in love.
Their relationship had been a beautiful secret. They spent late nights at his place, watching old movies, cooking together, or just talking for hours. It was perfect, private, and theirs alone. Timothée respected her desire to stay out of the limelight. Y/N wasn’t used to the public eye, and the idea of being swarmed by cameras and fans made her anxious. Timothée understood that, and he cherished their quiet moments together, far from the glare of Hollywood.
But that day, they felt too good to stay indoors. It was one of those rare moments in L.A. where the weather was too perfect to resist. The sun was shining, the air was crisp, and the park nearby was calling their names. Timothée suggested they go for a walk. Y/N hesitated for a moment, the familiar fear creeping in. But when Timothée reached out, taking her hand in his, his smile so reassuring, she couldn’t say no. “Let’s go,” she said, squeezing his hand.
The park was beautiful, filled with vibrant greenery and blooming flowers. They walked along the paths, talking about everything and nothing, laughing at shared jokes, and pausing now and then to take in the serene view. The world felt like it belonged only to them in that moment.
“Do you think we’ll ever be able to do this without worrying?” Y/N asked softly, as they found a quiet bench tucked away under a tree.
Timothée looked at her, his eyes filled with affection. “I hope so. But even if we can’t, I’ll always protect you, you know that, right?”
She nodded, leaning into him. “I know. I’m just... I don’t want to hold you back.”
“You could never do that,” he whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple. “You make everything better, Y/N.”
She smiled, her heart swelling with love for this man who understood her so completely. Timothée shifted, turning to face her fully. He cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs gently brushing against her cheeks. “You’re my world,” he murmured before leaning in to kiss her.
It was a sweet, lingering kiss, one that spoke of all the love they’d shared and all the love they still had to give. In that moment, nothing else mattered. It was just them, together.
But what they didn’t know was that, tucked away behind a tree not too far away, a paparazzo had spotted them. The man had been in the park, camera in hand, hoping to catch a glimpse of some celebrity. He hadn’t expected to stumble upon the most sought-after photo—Timothée Chalamet, with his mystery girlfriend, sharing an intimate moment.
He snapped a few pictures, each one more telling than the last. The couple, unaware of their uninvited observer, continued to enjoy their time together, oblivious to the world outside their bubble.
Later that day, the pictures made their way online. Social media exploded. “Timothée Chalamet’s Mystery Girlfriend Revealed!” read the headlines, accompanied by the images of them holding hands, laughing, and kissing in the park.
Y/N’s phone started buzzing with notifications, each one sending a jolt of anxiety through her. She hadn’t seen the pictures yet, but the sudden influx of messages told her everything she needed to know. Her heart raced as she opened one of the texts, her breath catching in her throat when she saw the images.
Timothée’s phone buzzed too, and he quickly realized what had happened. He looked at Y/N, who was staring at her phone, her face pale. “Y/N…”
She looked up, eyes wide with fear. “What are we going to do?”
Timothée didn’t hesitate. He pulled her into his arms, holding her close. “It’s going to be okay. We’ll get through this together. I promise.”
“But… everyone’s going to know,” she whispered, her voice trembling.
“Let them know,” he said softly, stroking her hair. “You’re the best part of my life, Y/N. I’m not ashamed of us. And if the world knows, then so be it. We’ll deal with it together.”
She pulled back slightly, looking up at him. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure,” he said, his eyes shining with love. “You’re worth it. We’re worth it.”
Tears welled up in her eyes, but they weren’t tears of fear anymore. They were tears of love and gratitude. She nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Okay.”
Timothée smiled back, leaning down to kiss her again.
Wonka taking you to see snow and sharing a kiss over hot cocoa
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@misskitty1912-blog request
Can I request Just saw new Wonka movie I loved it Timothée Chalamet's Willy Wonka x chubby reader female where they almost die by his chocolate rivals and they both confess each other
Wordcount: 2.8K+
Masterlist
Description: When the cartel decided to get rid of Wonka and you. Willy realizes that there is something he has to say if he is about to die to you, the most important person in his life.
A/N: Hello. I had a lot of fun writing this. Wonka is just so freaking cute. I could eat him up. I hope you all enjoy it. This is my first time writing a chubby or plus-size reader. I hope it was what you had in mind.
Warning: Unedited Fluff. Adorablewonka. fun in the snow. Minor spoilers for the ending of Wonka. insecurereader, chubbyreader.
“No no no.” This way. Or or.” Willy looked around frantic for some place for the two of you to hide. He’s never been so terrified in his life. He felt awful for getting you involved with the cartel. He should have come alone. He should have fought you harder on staying away.
“This way, Willy,” you said pulling him down a different hallway pulling him out of his mind spiral.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
You glanced over your shoulder at him. “Less apologizing and more running, Mr. Wonka,” you said, smiling mischievously at him.
Willy chuckled softly smiling back at you. Squeezing your hand. He could feel his heartbeat faster in his chest at your smile. It was his favorite thing in the world next to chocolate.
You two hide in a room pressed against each other. Willy looked down at you sheepishly. He was happy that the room, or closest more likely, was dark and you couldn’t see his cheek aflame.
Trying to look anywhere but at him, you took deep breaths to calm your fluttering heart. You were so tightly pressed together that you knew he had to feel it. Hopefully, he assumed it was fear or adrenaline.
You tried to suck in your gut. You’ve never been so insecure about your size and your face warm for a different reason now. “I’m sorry. I can try to move, give you more room,” you whispered.
Willy looked at you confused. “You aren’t taking up a lot of room. I am. My shoulders are a bit too wide. I’m sorry for crowding you,” he said, trying to move back but only accomplished in tripping and falling into you.
With lightning-fast reflexes, he wrapped his arm around your waist pulling you close and flipped so he to the brunt of the fall. He groaned as he hit the ground and your head banged against his chest.
“Sorry, sorry. I’m a little clumsy,” he said, chuckling slightly.
You chuckled but tried to move to get off of him. “Sorry, I must be crushing you,” you joked.
Willy frowned, tightening his hold. “Of course, you aren’t. My Gum Drop,” he said, cupping your cheek. “Are you alright?” He asked. “You aren’t hurt.” He quickly scanned your body for any marks.
Before you could answer the door opened and the Cartel stood above you both. “Well, what do we have here? Our wanna-be chocolate maker and his little marshmallow.” They laughed while some of their goons grabbed you both.
“Hey hey. Let her go. Your issue is with me not here. I dragged her here, but she is innocent let her go,” Willy begged trying to break free and get to you. The panic in his eyes and frantic movement made your throat close up.
“Mr. Wonka, calm down. I’m okay,” you said as you both were dragged down the hall. You were terrified. You had no idea how far they would go to protect their secrets, but it couldn’t be good.
“Into the chocolate room you go,” They giggled pushing you both into the reserve of chocolate. “You said you lived and breathed chocolate. Let’s test that theory,” the said before closing the door.
Willy glared at them before swimming his way close to you and grabbing your hands. “Are you alright?” He asked.
“Yeah. I’m fine, but what are we going to do?” You asked no longer able to keep a brave face on. And on queue, the chocolate levels began to rise.
“No no. No.” Willy said as he looked around for a way out. A way to save at least you. He turned to you and cupped your face. “Hey. You are going to be okay. I am going to get you out of here,” he promised.
“What about you? You have to get out of here. You need to survive. The world could do without me. I’m a nobody, but you. You need to get out of here. Make sure these men get taken down and share your talents with the world.”
Willy whimpered at your words. The chocolate was up to his waist now. “You might think the world can do without you, but I cannot,” he said more seriously than you had ever heard him before.
You swallowed harshly and looked up into his eyes. “Mr. Wonka…” You trailed off looking away from him. “We have to get out of here,” you said trying to move away from him.
“Sweet tart, please.” He stressed grabbing your hand. Tears filled his eyes. Willy was not the sort of man to give up. He would fight tooth and nail to the end, but things were bleak, and if he died. If you died, he wanted you to know his feelings.
“No, please. You don’t have to say things like that. I didn’t know my feelings were so obvious, but you do not need to make things up to make me feel better. As if we are going to die. We aren’t going to die.”
At least he wasn’t. He was taller than you. He would last longer and while you resigned to dying you didn’t want him to see it. “There has to be a lever or something to get out of here,” you said waning through the chocolate.
“Feelings? You have feelings for me?” He repeated. The danger you both were in left his mind as he stared at you. His singular focus was you. The person he loved most. He would have left town and tried to make his dream somewhere else, but it was you that he couldn’t leave before.
It was you that he wanted to make the world a better place for. That he fought for and the reason he was here in the first place. He liked to think he would fight for justice by himself. That he was moral and good and while it could be true, he was doing it for you.
“Mr. Wonka is that what's really important right now?” You stressed moving closer to the walls, trying to get out. Willy swam after you and grabbed your waist.
“It is very important right now. It might be the only thing important. If we are to die, I want you to know the truth. I love you. And I’m sorry I got you into this mess. You are going to die because of me,” he said, cupping your face.
“Mr. Wonka-
“Please call me Willy,” he interjected.
Nodding you took a shaky breath. “Willy-
“And before you go on and on about all the horrible things people have said to you to think so lowly of yourself, don’t. You are wonderful. Absolutely wonderful and beautiful, kind, and sweet. You are perfect, gumdrop.”
You had tears in your eyes and as they fell, he quickly wiped them again. “You don’t have to return them. My feelings I mean, but you must now.” He smiled sadly before clearing his throat.
He clapped his hands. “Okay now, get on my shoulders. The chocolate is too high up on you,” he said softly but firmly.
“No no. I’m too heavy and you’ll sink more,” you shook your head and moved away from him.
Willy scoffed. “Enough of that onto my shoulders. Right now,” he huffed sassily.
“No,” you said crossing your arms.
“Yes.”
“How about you both grab the rope, climb up and we get out of here.” You and Willy looked up to see Lofty and the rest of your friends. You sighed in relief, wiping the rest of the tears.
You turned to Willy the same time he turned to you. “You first,” you both said at the same time. Lofty groaned shaking his head at the two of you.
No matter how much you showered, you still smelt like chocolate. Normally you wouldn’t mind. You spent all your free time with Willy, but this chocolate didn’t smell as amazing as his did.
You shivered as you walked down the street. Everything was over. The cartel, the chief, and all of the other corrupt people were arrested. The dusked had cleared and yet you didn’t know what to do.
“It looks like it’s going to snow,” A voice came from behind you. You smiled softly, crossing your arms behind your back.
“It does seem like it. I want a snowy Christmas. I’ve never been out and got to enjoy the snow,” you said as you continued walking. Willy caught up with you, his hands behind his back as well.
“I know you told me that when we first met. Your family treated you horribly and then you were trapped by Scrubitt.” He said.
You hummed nodding. “But now I’m free.”
“Yes free. What do you plan to do with yourself now?”
You paused in your step. “I don’t know. What are you going to do, Willy?”
He smiled loving hearing his name coming out of your mouth. “Lofty and I have decided to go into business together. I want to take you somewhere; would you like to come with me?” He asked offering him your hand.
You stared at his outstretched hand before nodding and taking it. “Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise,” he grinned mischievously. A look that meant trouble but also a once-in-a-lifetime adventure.
“Wow. This place is amazing and whimsical,” you paused to look at him. “Perfect for Willy Wonka,” you grinned.
“I am opening a chocolate factory there. Lofty and I are actually,” he said walking around and looking over the empty castle. “It’s big enough to be a home and a place to work. It’s perfect.”
You nodded looking around as well. “It really is. I am so happy for you.” You would miss him, you thought sadly.
Seeing the slight sadness in your body language, Willy grabbed your arms and started to twirl around the empty hall with you. “I am happy you are happy. But you know what would make me happier?” He mused.
You giggled as you danced around with him. “What would make you happier?”
“If you came to stay with us. Work with me…be with me?” He looked at you hopefully, batting his eyelashes.
You two haven’t had a chance to talk about what he said, and you slightly admission in the reserve room. A part of you thought you two never would and a bigger part of you wanted too so badly.
“If it was not clear. Or you believed it was pity or near-death experience talking. I want to be firm and let you know. That I Willy Wonka of sound body and mind… well as sound as I’ve ever been-” you giggled, and he shot you a wink “-I love you. All of you, my brilliant, lovely gumdrop,” he said.
“You are making my head float,” you said.
“And you make my heart float,” he said, continuing your dance around the hall.
“I love you. I should have told you then, but I was afraid, nervous, and confused. I don’t know. I’ve been torn down too much to believe anything but the negative things about myself.”
“There are no negatives when it comes to you. Not to me,” he said, cupping your face. “Can I kiss you, gumdrop? I’ve been thinking about it for weeks.”
“Yes please,” you whispered.
Willy closed his eyes and leaned closer to you. Just as his lips brushed yours, you gasped pulling away. Willy frowned hurt until he saw where your eyes were focused outside the window where snow was coming down.
“It’s so beautiful,” you said walking close to the windows. Willy grasped your hand causing you to look down at the joint hands. Then back at him. Quickly, Willy leaned forward and pecked your lips.
You were stunned for a moment, but Willy smiled and started to pull you outside. “Shall we go place in the snow?”
You followed behind him. “It’s barely stuck to the ground, Willy.”
“It will stick. We can play. Be children and then I’ll make us some of my famous hot cocoa?”
“You have a famous hot cocoa?” You asked as you took in the night air and the falling snowflakes.
“Well, I hope it will be one day. For now, it is just for us,” he said, squeezing your hand.
Smiling you turned and kissed his cheek. “I think that sounds lovely. What shall we do first, make a snowman? Or make snow angels?” You said buzzing with excitement.
Willy hummed tapping his chin. “I think we should make snowman first.” He dug in his pocket and pulled out a carrot, two buttons, and cocoa beans. “And look I have just the things we need.”
“You tend to have everything just in your pocket, mister magic man,” you said. Turning around you could see the snow has stuck a few inches now. It seemed impossible, but nothing was impossible when it came to Willy.
“I am just always well prepared,” he said. “Now let’s start working on the body. We will need a lot of snow,” he said.
“Then let’s get on it,” you said. You both quickly got to work on building your snowman. “There I better snow over here,” you called out.
“Better snow?” He teased.
“Shush, Mr. Wonka.”
“Ah, so I’m back to Mr. Wonka,” he said turning away from you.
You felt suspicious crawl up your spine, and you quickly turned to make a snowball. “Yes, you are right back to Mr. Wonka,” you teased.
“Well, if that is how you truly feel my sweet Gumdrop.” You turned just in time to get a face full of snow. “Oh goodness. I didn’t mean to hit you in the face,” Willy said as he came over to you and quickly wiped the snow away.
You laughed. “Oh, it is on now.” You smirked causing Willy to back up raising his hands and backing up slowly. “Where are you off to?” You teased before throwing your snowball.
Willy moved but still got hit in the side. You were quickly running off and grabbing more snow to make another ball with Willy doing the same.
You took cover behind a pillar, and he hid behind a tree as you both tossed snowball after snowball at each other. The area was loud with your laughter as you chased each other around and around.
You ran until you both passed out in the snow next to each other. Willy laughed joyously as he turned his hand to look at you. You glowed in the snow. The happiness on your face made him feel as if he was watching an angel.
“Beautiful,” he breathed in awe. You looked over at him to see his green eyes staring deeply into yours.
“Don’t stare at me like that,” you whispered.
Frowning he moved closer, brushing snow out of your hair. “Why not?” He asked cocking his head to the side like a puppy.
“Because it makes me feel all warm,” you said, feeling childish about your words.
He grinned at your words. Quickly move until he is hovering over you. “Well, it is cold out here. I would hate to have a frozen pop instead of a gumdrop. Shall I warm you up more,” he asked sweetly.
Your mouth dried so you just nodded. Slowly he leaned down, giving you plenty of time to reject him but you just wrapped your arms around his neck, tangling in the curls at the base of his neck and kissing him.
His lips were soft, like little clouds and there was a hint of chocolate of course. You couldn’t help but press your lips harder against his and deepen the kiss. Willy whined softly his hands moved to your waist squeezing your hips.
You moaned into his mouth and pulled away in embarrassment. Willy's eyes fluttered open and he stared down at your soft and dreamy. “I like your waist,” he confessed. “I like having you in my hands, squeezing and touching you.”
Your cheek heated and you felt as if the snow around you could melt with the flames burning between the two of you. “Oh. Really you like my waist? I’ve always found it-“
“shush” and he was kissing you one more. His hands dug into your waist and fed you his tongue slowly. You giggled as you tasted more chocolate and Willy grinned against your lips.
“Honestly, I’m quite happy for you two, but in the snow. When we have so much work to do?” Lofty voiced from near you causing you to break apart.
“Sorry Lofty” you said in unison.
“Good heavens,” he said rolling his eyes.
Willy laughed and helped you to your feet, pulling you close under his arms. “Shall we go make that hot chocolate?” He suggested kissing your forehead.
You smiled, placing a hand on the side of his face. “Yes, we should, Willy.” You leaned closer and kissed him sweetly once more.
