Timothee Fanfic - Blog Posts
Oh? Is that so? (Pt. 1)
Warning(s): Timothee looking so cute that you might faint. Very short, Im tired
Laurie and you have been friends since we were kids, and yet there was always a strange tension between you two.
“Laurie, can put this necklace on me?”
“Why?”
“A date.”
“Wait. WHAT?!”
“A date, a man shall try to court me and I shall have to either refuse or oblig-“
“I know what a date is. But you never told me that you were going on one!”
“Do you have to know?”
“I do”
“and why is that?”
“Um- I-uh”
My Valentine, Timothee Chalamet <3
Forever you
Lee is cursed with immortality, and he finds Y/N's reincarnation every time.
Vampire!Lee x Reincarnation!Reader
words: 3.5k
warning: mentions of death, blood, m*rder, reincarnation, abuse , war (brief)
note: school is taking up my time. Unedited
find more here: masterlist
It was the year 1060, the village sat on the edge of a dense forest, untouched by war but not by whispers of creatures that lurked in the dark. Lee had no business here, yet he found himself drawn to the small stone hut at the heart of it.
A storm had rolled in, and with it, the gnawing hunger he had grown to hate. He needed to leave before he did something unforgivable. But then, the door to the hut creaked open, and she stood there—Y/N, her lantern’s glow illuminating wide, cautious eyes.
“You look half-dead,” she remarked, stepping forward.
He nearly laughed at the irony. “I suppose I do.”
“Come inside before you freeze.”
She wasn’t afraid of him—not when he stumbled in with wounds that should have killed any normal man, nor when his skin remained ice-cold even by the fire. She asked no questions, only tending to him as her mother once had for wounded knights.
Over the weeks, Lee stayed close. He helped gather wood, watched her mix herbs, and listened to her hum old songs that stirred something ancient in him. Y/N was kind, but sharp-witted, never failing to call out his silences.
“You always look like you’re carrying a burden.”
He glanced at her, stirring the pot over the fire. “Maybe I am.”
“Well,” she huffed, leaning against the table. “You should set it down every once in a while.”
It happened by the river. The sun was dipping below the trees, setting the sky on fire. Y/N stood barefoot on the bank, watching the water swirl between her toes.
“You’re staring.”
Lee blinked. “Am I?”
She turned to face him fully, something unreadable in her gaze. “You always do.”
Before he could think, she reached for him, fingers curling in the fabric of his tunic. When she kissed him, it was nothing like the hesitant, fleeting gestures of courtly lovers. It was warmth, life, the taste of honey and herbs.
For the first time in centuries, Lee felt human again.
The night was still, but Lee knew danger when he felt it. He woke to the scent of blood, not Y/N’s, but the slaughtered lamb outside the hut. A warning.
He knew he couldn’t keep this from her any longer.
That night, he found her sitting by the fire, waiting for him. Her eyes followed him as he paced, struggling with the words.
“I need to tell you something,” he said, voice low.
She curled a brow. “Oh? You’re secretly a nobleman? Or—gods forbid—a bard?”
He almost smiled, but the weight of the truth held him back. “I’m not… like you, Y/N. I haven’t been for a long time.”
She tilted her head, curious but unafraid. “Go on.”
He took a breath, then met her gaze. “I don’t age. I don’t die—not in the way humans do. I… survive on blood.”
The silence stretched between them. Then, to his utter shock, she smirked. “You’re not about to tell me you sparkle in the sunlight, are you?”
He blinked. “What?”
“You know,” she waved. “Shimmering skin, brooding forever, that sort of thing.”
Despite himself, a laugh escaped him. “No. I avoid the sun because it weakens me, not because I… glisten.”
“Well, that’s a relief.” She leaned forward, resting her chin on her palm. “So, are you going to eat me?”
His amusement faded. “Never.”
She studied him for a moment before shrugging. “Good. Then I see no reason to be afraid.”
“You should be,” he murmured. “You don’t understand what I am.”
“I understand enough,” she said, softer this time. “You’re Lee. You help me gather wood, you listen to my terrible singing, and you burn the stew when I let you cook. That’s enough for me.”
They stayed together after that. Y/N made jokes about his brooding and inhuman coldness, but she never feared him. They danced under the moonlight, shared whispered stories between breaths, and Lee let himself love without fear for the first time in his immortal life.
But time was cruel.
Sickness took her slowly. Lee tried everything; fetched herbs, stole medicines, pleaded to gods he didn’t believe in. Nothing stopped the inevitable.
“Stay,” she whispered, voice weak in the flickering candlelight.
Lee clutched her hand, pressing his forehead to hers. “I’ll find you,” he swore. “Every time.”
And as her last breath left her lips, Lee sat in silence, knowing this was only the beginning of his endless search for her.
He wandered for years, waiting for the pull, for the feeling deep in his bones that would lead him back to her. And then he found her again. Different life, different name—but it was her. It was always her.
He never told her, not at first. He let her fall in love with him the way she always did—slowly, sweetly, as if for the first time. But the truth always came out. Sometimes she laughed when she learned what he was. Sometimes she was afraid. But always, in every life, she stayed.
And always, in every life, she left him in the end.
And still, he searched.
The year was 1300s and this time he found her in the bustling market square, the scent of fresh bread and spices filling the air, the chatter of merchants blending into a steady hum. But it was her laughter that cut through the noise, clear and familiar, sending a shiver down his spine.
He knew her the moment he saw her. He always did.
For two days, he followed at a careful distance, watching the way she moved, how she spoke with ease, and how she tossed a playful remark to the baker’s apprentice. He wanted to approach, but how could he? How did one explain centuries of longing?
It was she who finally ended his hesitation. Spinning on her heel in a narrow alleyway, she caught him lingering in her shadow.
“Are you following me?” she demanded, hands on her hips. Her sharp stare knocked the breath from his lungs. It was her, through and through—that stubborn courage, that fire he had loved before.
“I was hoping to talk to you,” Lee admitted, voice low, almost reverent.
She raised an eyebrow. “Then speak.”
And somehow, he found himself walking her home that evening, conversation flowing as if they had known each other forever. In a way, they had.
Lee learned that Y/N was headstrong, witty, and too clever for her good. She spoke of faraway places with longing, of adventure and stories that she dreamed of living by herself. She was restless in this life, much like she had been before, though she didn’t yet know why.
He became her shadow, not out of fear but out of need. He couldn’t leave her, not again. He helped carry baskets when she let him, stole apples from carts to hear her gasp in feigned disapproval, and listened to her hum old songs that stirred something ancient in his chest.
“You don’t talk much,” she mused one evening as they sat by the river.
“I talk when it matters.”
“And when does it matter?”
He looked at her then, the last light of the sun catching in her hair. “When it’s with you.”
The spring festival soon came with laughter, dancing, and the scent of blooming flowers. Y/N had dragged him into the square despite his protests, her hand warm in his as she spun them into the crowd. The music was fast, the world around them a blur, but Lee only saw her—her flushed cheeks, the way she bit her lip when she laughed.
When the dancing ended, they stumbled out of the crowd, breathless. Lanterns glowed above them, flickering light casting golden patterns on her face. Without a word, she grabbed his hand and kissed him.
It was sudden, impulsive, her laughter still on her lips when she kissed him again.
“You’re trouble,” he murmured against her mouth.
She grinned. “Then why are you still here?”
Because I always am, he thought, but he only kissed her in response.
Summer turned to autumn, and as the leaves fell, so did the last of his resolve. He had to tell her. He owed her that much.
They sat by the fire in her family’s home, the warmth doing nothing for the chill in his bones. Y/N watched him, something unreadable in her gaze, as if she already knew.
“There’s something I need to tell you,” he began. His hands clenched into fists. “Something about what I am.”
Y/N tilted her head. “You say that like you’re about to confess to murder.”
His silence stretched too long.
She blinked. “Lee?”
“I’m not human.” The words felt heavy, final. “I haven’t been for a long time.”
She studied him, quiet for a moment, before crossing her arms. “You’re not about to tell me you’re some kind of… what do they call them—creature of the night, are you?”
He let out a breath. “Something like that.”
To his utter shock, she only smirked. “You’re not going to start lurking in dark corners and calling me ‘mortal one,’ are you?”
He stared. “What?”
“I mean, if you start hissing at garlic, I might reconsider our whole relationship.”
Despite himself, he laughed, shaking his head. “You’re impossible.”
“But you love me.”
“Yes,” he said, softer this time. “I do.”
She reached for his hand, squeezing it. “Good. Because I know who you are now. And I don’t care.”
They spent that autumn wrapped in each other, in whispered words and secret smiles. She asked him endless questions—what it was like to live forever, if he had met kings, if he missed the taste of food.
“I don’t remember the taste,” he admitted one night, tracing patterns on her bare shoulder.
“That’s tragic,” she murmured. “I’d die if I couldn’t have honey cakes.”
He chuckled. “You say that as if you haven’t eaten five today.”
She gasped, shoving him playfully. “How dare you keep count?”
“I can’t help it. You get this look—like a fox that just stole from the henhouse.”
She laughed, burying her face against his chest. “Maybe in my next life, I’ll be a baker.”
He smiled, but the words sat heavy in his heart. There would always be a next life. And she would always leave him behind.
The winter was cruel.
She fell ill not long after the first snowfall. It started with a cough, then a fever that wouldn’t break. Lee tried everything; stole medicine, bribed healers, prayed to gods he didn’t believe in. Nothing worked.
He held her through the fevered nights, whispering stories she had loved, pressing cool clothes to her burning skin. He stayed when her strength faded, when her voice turned to a whisper.
One morning, just before dawn, she stirred. Her fingers curled weakly around his, her breath coming in shallow gasps.
“Lee?”
“I’m here.”
Her lips parted in the faintest of smiles. Her eyes softened, full of something deep, something knowing. “You’ll find me again,” she murmured.
Tears burned his eyes. He kissed her hand, pressing it to his cheek. “Always.”
And with a final, shuddering breath, she was gone.
Lee sat in silence, holding her long after her body turned cold.
The cycle would begin again. It always did.
And when it did, he would find her.
Because he always did.
It was the 1800s and in this life, she was a noblewoman.
Y/N.
Distant. Unreachable. A vision draped in silks and adorned with jewels, moving through candlelit halls as though she belonged to another world entirely. But Lee had seen her in every world, in every life. And even if she did not remember him, he knew her. He always did.
She was wed to another. A man of power, of wealth, of status. Someone safe. Someone human. Lee had seen him once, standing beside Y/N at a lavish banquet, fingers pressed possessively against the small of her back. It should have been him. It had always been him. But in this life, she did not belong to him.
So he watched from afar.
For months, he lingered in the shadows of her world, a ghost haunting the edges of candlelight. He caught glimpses of her in the garden at dusk, her face turned toward the dying sun. He listened to the sound of her laughter carried on the wind, a cruel reminder of all he had lost before. He kept his distance, even when the ache in his chest became unbearable.
And then he saw the bruises.
Dark, blooming things hidden beneath the high collar of her gown. The way she flinched when her husband reached for her at the next banquet. The hollow look in her eyes that had never been there before.
Lee had always told himself he would never interfere. That she deserved to live these lives as they came, untouched by the monster that lurked in the dark.
But this time, he couldn’t stay away.
He followed the man through the winding streets of the city, footsteps silent on the cobblestone. The nobleman was drunk, swaying as he staggered down a deserted alley, humming a tune that grated on Lee’s nerves. He reeked of wine, of expensive perfume, of cruelty. The kind of man who took pleasure in his power. The kind of man who believed himself untouchable.
Lee stepped out of the shadows.
"Who’s there?" the nobleman slurred, squinting into the darkness.
Lee didn’t speak. He let the silence stretch, watching as unease flickered across the man’s face. Then he moved.
It was over in seconds. A hand around the nobleman's throat, squeezing just hard enough to feel his pulse thrumming beneath his fingers. The man barely had time to gasp before Lee struck, fangs piercing flesh, warm blood spilling over his tongue. It had been so long since he had fed. He had denied himself for so long.
But this kill was not for hunger.
It was for her.
When the man finally went limp, Lee let his body crumple to the ground, blood staining the stone beneath them. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, but the coppery taste lingered. The taste of vengeance. Of justice.
Then he looked up—and saw her.
Y/N stood at the mouth of the alley, candlelight from the street casting a golden halo around her. Her expression was unreadable, her eyes locked on the lifeless body at Lee’s feet. Then, slowly, she met his gaze.
"You killed him," she murmured.
Lee swallowed, his throat thick with something he couldn’t name. "He hurt you."
She stepped closer, unafraid. "You’re dangerous."
"I am."
She should have run. She should have screamed for the guards. Instead, she looked down at the man who had tormented her for months, the man she had been forced to smile for, to obey, to endure. And then she exhaled a long, shuddering breath, as if some unseen weight had been lifted from her shoulders.
When she looked back at Lee, her eyes were softer. "But you’ve saved me more times than I can count."
Weeks passed, and the rumors of her husband's mysterious disappearance faded into whispers. Y/N remained in the estate, and Lee remained in the shadows, always near, never too far. But this time, he did not watch from a distance.
One evening, beneath a sky heavy with rain, she found him waiting on the balcony of her chambers. The city stretched below them, lanterns flickering against the darkness. The air smelled of wet stone, of lavender, of her.
She stepped closer, the silk of her nightgown whispering against the cool night air. "You always find me."
"Always."
She reached for him then, fingers tracing the curve of his jaw, as if memorizing him for the first time. And then, slowly, deliberately, she kissed him.
It was not rushed, not desperate like their first kisses in other lives. It was steady, filled with understanding. As if she had known him for years rather than weeks. As if, deep down, she had always known.
Lee stayed with her.
As the years passed, he remained by her side, a silent guardian in a world that did not know what he was. He held her at night, pressing kisses to her skin as she murmured dreams of other lives. He traced the lines of her face, memorizing every expression, knowing one day, he would lose her again.
And when time finally caught up to her, when the silver in her hair outnumbered the gold, he never left.
He sat at her bedside when she grew frail, holding her hand, whispering stories from their past. Some she remembered. Some she did not. But she listened all the same, her fingers curled around his, as if afraid to let go.
One night, as the fire burned low in the hearth, she turned to him, eyes heavy with sleep. "Will you find me again?"
Lee pressed his lips to her knuckles, breathing in the last traces of her warmth. "Always."
And when she passed, he kissed her brow one final time before slipping away into the night, the cycle beginning once more.
It was now the 21st century and Lee hadn’t meant to talk to her. He had spent months ensuring that their paths never truly crossed, keeping his distance like he always did.
But fate had a cruel sense of humor.
It was late, the city washed in a misty drizzle, the glow of neon signs reflecting off the wet pavement. He had been trailing her like always, keeping a careful distance.
Then, without warning, she turned around.
Lee barely had time to react before she was standing before him, eyes bright with something unreadable.
“Hello, Lee.”
His breath caught.
No.
She couldn’t have just—
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
The world tilted.
It took everything in him to stay still, to keep his expression unreadable even as his mind reeled. His name. She had said his name.
She remembered.
For centuries, it had been the other way around—him searching, him finding, him remembering while she moved through life unaware of their past.
But now…
Now, she was the one who had been looking for him.
Lee’s pulse pounded in his ears, though he knew it was just a phantom sensation, a habit leftover from when he had been human.
He forced himself to meet her gaze, searching for some sign that he had misheard. That this was just some cruel coincidence.
But her expression held no doubt. No hesitation. Only quiet certainty.
She knew him.
Truly knew him.
“Say something,” she teased, tilting her head. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
He let out a shaky breath, barely managing a smirk. “Funny. That’s usually my line.”
Her lips quivered in amusement, but her eyes remained steady, waiting.
“How?” Lee finally asked, voice hoarse. “How do you remember?”
She hummed, crossing her arms. “Not all at once. It started as dreams—flashes of things that didn’t belong to this life. You were always there, though.” She smiled softly, like she had finally solved a puzzle that had been plaguing her for years. “Your face was the clearest thing.”
He couldn’t breathe.
For so long, he had carried their past alone. Shouldered the weight of lifetimes of love and loss, knowing she would never share the burden.
But now…
Now, she was standing in front of him, looking at him like she had been waiting for him just as desperately as he had been waiting for her.
“You were watching me,” she said suddenly, breaking the silence. “Every night. Weren’t you?”
Lee stiffened.
Caught.
He should lie. Should tell her she was mistaken. But what was the point? She already knew.
“Yes,” he admitted. “I was.”
She didn’t look surprised.
“Why?”
Lee swallowed, debating how much of the truth he was willing to give her.
Because I couldn’t help myself. Because I’ve lost you too many times. Because I swore I wouldn’t get close, and yet I can’t seem to let you go.
Instead, he settled for, “Old habits die hard.”
Her gaze softened, seeing right through him.
Lee hated how easily she had always been able to do that.
“Will you keep running?” she asked.
The question settled between them, heavy and unspoken for far too long.
Lee had run for centuries—run from getting too close, from the pain of losing her, from the cruel hand of fate that always wrenched them apart.
But this time was different.
This time, she remembered.
And she had been the one searching for him.
He exhaled slowly. “I don’t know.”
Y/N reached out then, her fingers curling around his in a way that felt so natural, so achingly familiar, that it nearly unraveled him.
“Then let me find you,” she said, her grip steady. “For once, let me be the one who stays.”
Lee looked down at their joined hands, at the warmth seeping into his skin.
For the first time in lifetimes, she wasn’t slipping away.
And for the first time, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to let go.
Bones And All
Lee:
Passenger: Lee would follow you to the ends of the earth. A night he thought he was showing you just how much he loves you has to be reevaluated when he understands the pain you've been put through in the past.
(Romance/Smut/Fluff)
PASSENGER
Lee X Reader
Lee has traveled everywhere with you ever since meeting you in the store the night after your father left you. He's never given you a reason not to trust he'll stay, but your anxiousness gets in the way after he admits to you that he wants to be closer than ever before.
⚠️ Warnings: Blood and gore, mentions of cannibalism, talks about sex, reader and Lee almost have sex, anxiety⚠️
The truck bounced up and down as the tires made harsh contact with the gravelly road beneath it. The bumps and swerves were almost soothing as they rocked both you and the pink haired boy next to you, who had taken comfort in the passenger seat staring out the window. His lips were drawn into a tight line and his eyes were closed but flitting back and forth as he dreamt of nightmares, presumably. It was hard to live the life the two of you shared and not feel a little scarred on the inside. Being on the road without any sense of direction was so freeing compared to the life you were living before. After discovering the news of your mother in the psych ward and your father leaving you to fend for yourself, the path towards self-love and acceptance has not been an easy one. Picking up people along the way and carrying their stories with you seemed to be the only attempt at salvation when it came to your humanity. That's what people with morals did. Did you have morals anymore? It was hard to tell.
"It's getting dark. Are we almost to the lake?" The boy piped in, interrupting your thoughts as your hands gripped the steering wheel a bit tighter as you prepared to turn right towards your special campsite. It was just a small spot by the trees and the lake that you two often shared a cigarette and a story or two. Sleeping under the stars has become normality.
"We're here." You said, turning over to glance at his expression of contentment yet sorrow. If there was anyone in the world who could manage to make both expressions visible at once, it was Lee.
The sky has darkened tremendously from when you first embarked on your little journey out towards the fields. The stars hung overhead in dim glowing orbs that contrasted against the rest of the universe above. The crescent moon illuminated the trees and the path to the usual parking spot under the bridge. It was beautiful at this time of night to say the least, and you felt your shoulders lose their tension as a serene wave washed over you.
The car's engine turned off and there was a silence between the two of you. Nothing uncomfortable, but a very distinct kind of silence where both parties are listening to the whims of nature. A cicada here and there and the rushing of water. It was all too perfect but unsettling at the same time. However, the only unsettling things were you and Lee; he only terrors that travelled in the dark were you and him. The kinds of beasts in fairy tales and children's nightmares. You consumed others and not just for their emotional intelligence. You consumed the very essence of their being. A trace of blood under the bottom of the boy's lips and scraped knees were prevalent as you took in the sights around you and remembered you were never normal to begin with. The smell of the last person you killed hung heavy in the backseat of the car and it was a stench that would not be rid of unless there was a strip cleaning of the entire vehicle. The man who kissed Lee in the same way you did at the carnival who was expecting a night of frivolity and excitement presumably due to having to hide his sexuality... was now nothing more than a couple of bloodied shirts and old pictures. Lee had monstrously slit his throat while you watched from outside in the night air similar to this one. The gleaming thick substance dripping from the man's neck and now took home in the mouth of your lover. And yet, for being this type of monster, Lee looked so lovely under the soft glow of the moon cascading down through the pick-up truck's slightly dirty windows.
All of a sudden, you broke the silence that had dawned on you two as fast as it now ended.
"What are you thinking of?" You asked, alluding to the familiar brightness behind his eyes.
"You. Me. Us." He said with clarity but uncertainty. There was more to this topic than he was letting on.
"Is something wrong between us?" You asked, wondering what it could've been that would make him think of your relationship. Was it a tension that he felt? Was it him explaining to you that the man from last night was not just due to a sense of sexuality, but had now awoken something in him that wasn't there before, and he could no longer continue being with you? Or had that sense of sexuality always been there, and you were just a way at him preventing the realization of who he knew he was? And now, in contrast to your last stream of thoughts, you decided maybe your humanity wasn't entirely diminished and that you might be more of a teenage girl than you thought.
"No, not at all," he said, reaching for a strand of your hair and pushing it behind your ear with a loving and slight obsessive look in his eyes. his hair was strewn about his face, and he allowed the loose curls to fall just above his eyebrows in pink spirals similar to fanciful ribbons. It was inviting and alluring, and you didn't want to look away from him. "I want to make love to you."
The confession hit you like a train, hard and fast as you finally realized what had been troubling your boyfriend. It wasn't unlike him to want something of the sort, considering he was a teenage boy, but it still left you slightly startled. After everything the two of you had been through, this didn't seem like something that wouldn't have ever happened. Your love with Lee was fast and exciting and wonderful but also horribly founded on the fact that you shared the desire to eat human flesh. Sometimes, you had a hard time distinguishing between what portion of your relationship was bloodlust and what was true emotional and physical connection. But then again, you felt no such connection with Sully, who had tried to coerce you into banding with him on his journey of collecting the locks of corpses.
Sounding less assured than you usually liked to, you let out an anxious mumble: "You- you want to make love? To me?"
He smiled and leaned in closer until you could feel his hot breath against your skin, alluring and charming once more.
"I want to be one together. In the ways that we can be with other people when we devour their flesh. There's something poetic about it, no? We wouldn't necessarily eat each other as we did with the guy from the carnival, but this is the closest lovers can truly get in the physical sense. And oh, (Y/N), have you consumed me in the emotional sense."
This conversation definitely took a turn you weren't expecting. Before any objections could escape you, his lips were flush against yours, pulling you into him or as close as the stick shift would allow. The dashboard was littered with papers that fell down to the floor and under the glove compartment, resting at Lee's soles. His arms, although gentle in composure, were firmly placed on the sides of you with one holding the back of your head and the other placed on your hip. He started to move his fingers up and down alongside your thigh in a polite but provocative manner. He wasn't forcing you into anything you were uncertain of, but he still wanted to show how terribly he needed you.
Breaking away to gasp for air, you look at his proud expression as he treated every moment spent with you as though it would be the last. His eyes said everything he didn't say in that moment. He worshipped you. And it wasn't in the honeymoon phase type of way, it was in an 'I see you as though you were crafted by the gods' way. His lips were slightly swollen from the kiss he'd just given you, and his sharp, shallow breaths showed you he was just as tense as you were. His pants were still covered in the mud from the cornfield where you ditched Carnival Man's body, and his shirt was torn and fraying towards the bottom. You had to have been in rough shape as well but you hadn't looked in a mirror anytime soon to confirm or deny whether that was a true statement.
Your collective breaths being the only sounds within the car and outside it made this moment so much more intimate. His face loomed inches away from your pursuing lips, as you had wanted more of his taste; your hands beckoned ever so slightly in a race to see which one would reach the beautiful boy's skin first, Lee's collarbone was the finish line. You had thought about making love to Lee before, of course. With only your thoughts to keep you company as of recent, it wasn't entirely a new concept for you to wake up after a long drive with Lee at the steering wheel; the heat between your legs unbeknownst to him. You had wondered at one point if he had ever thought of something similar, but you would never have had the courage to bring about a situation like this and bring your fantasies to fruition. But, Lee had been the one to make the first move and you were thankful.
Noticing your hesitance but desire, Lee took that as a sign to lean in closer until you were nose to nose.
"Would you make love to me?" He asked, waiting until he had your consent before he continued. The last thing he would ever want to do would be to make you uncomfortable, and for a moment he thought he had. Until you reached for the hem of his shirt which grazed his collarbone, he leant in fully and continued to kiss you with a more feverish passion.
Hot breaths and hands everywhere, everything was so awkward but fun. There would be a pause in between your kisses to allow for breathing room before Lee dove back in and offered you more of the sweet gesture. All the while, you realized the burning sensation in the core of both your chest and lower abdomen was increasing with every touch of your lips. It was as if there was something inside of you asking- no -begging to touch Lee further. A fiery feeling that you'd never fully experienced before pushed itself to the very undersides of your skin, clawing at being held within your body and not being let loose as this beast wanted. It was the same desire you felt when you watched the life drained from someone you would eventually feed on and your mouth would be already drooling with the promise of what was to come. It was a same immenseness as your cannibalistic tendencies, but at the same time what you had with Lee was entirely different. You wanted to consume his soul and his persona, not his physical components. And with this realization also came the understanding that cannibalism is a beautiful allegory to love.
Lee pulled away for a moment to give you a loving but questioning glance. His face was barely illuminated now considering the clouds that had taken control of the night sky. But still, you knew he looked so handsome as he took your hands and gently guided them to the hem of his jeans. It was again, nowhere near forceful, but entirely romantic and sweet as he was taking into account how this was just as awkward for you.
"Would you want to continue?" He asked, lightly holding onto your hands as they toyed with the fabric of his jeans.
"I want you, Lee." You finally gave him a more definitive answer than your previous attempts at vocalizing exactly what it was you wanted in this moment. It was his turn to blush, even though you wouldn't see due to the darkness of the surrounding area, but you had an inkling that his face was redder than before. Unbuttoning the top of his jeans and unzipping the fly, this became more of a reality to you. What is Lee would be done with you after this? What if he joined this whole escapade of finding your true family and what happened to you just so that he could receive sexual favors in return? You never thought of Lee in that way, but maybe because of the way he treated Carnival Man he hoped you would be next?
Halting his movements, he noticed you seemed distressed. "Is everything okay, my love?" He questioned. Lee didn't know what had happened to change the mood all of a sudden, but he assumed it had to be his fault as he was the one who had brought up the idea in the first place.
"I'm so so sorry if I pressured you into doing anything you didn't want to-"
"No, you didn't Lee." You said, trying to understand the way you were feeling. That burning feeling had left your body and was now instead an anxious and gut-wrenching pressure. Why did you have to overthink everything? You really wanted this with Lee so why would you let your thoughts get the best of you?
"Are we taking things too fast?" He asked, after a short moment of silence. He zipped up his jeans and leant beside you, hesitating at first, but then opting to put his hand on your shoulder just in case he had done something to make you uncomfortable. If you were shying away from his touch, he wouldn't want to make you feel that way again.
But to his relief, you didn't shy away. Instead, you rest your head on his shoulder and allowed for him to put his arm around you. Feeling comfortable, you wait for the anxiety to dispel a bit before vocalizing the troubling thoughts on your mind; Lee waiting patiently.
"Lee, I really want this with you. But I want to make sure that you want me."
Lee was very confused at this point. He was your boyfriend and had asked to make love to you because he wanted you, of course. He instantly felt a pang of guilt for making you feel as though you weren't wanted by him. In reality, he would follow you anywhere. His nightmare from earlier was about losing you. And not to another man or any of that type of thing, but just not being able to be in your presence again. The universe worked in strange ways and everything was uncertain, even the present.
"I want you very much," Lee said, moving in closer to you to give you a proper hug, "very much. And I apologize if I've made you feel any differently."
You sighed a breath of relief. Of course he automatically thought there was something wrong on his end.
"No, Lee. You've made me feel very wanted. I just want to make sure that it lasts. Everyone I've held dear to me has left in different ways, and I don't want to have to loose you too." You calmed him as you explained what was wrong. He tightened his grip on you, not in a way that was possessive, but in a more firm and loving way.
"(Y/N). Anyone would be a fool to leave you."
.
.
.
(A/N): I've been listening to a lot of Deftones lately and their music has been my go to for daydreaming about Bones and All. Anyhow, it's been forever since I've posted and I'll explain in another post for anyone who's interested! I hope this is alright as I try to ease myself back into writing as frequently as before. Love you guys! 💛🦐
Promise pt. 3
PAUL ATREIDES X READER
You were to remain on Arrakis to aid in destroying the Atreides family: a Bene Gesserit trained assassin working for the Harkonnen House. It shouldn't have been hard to kill The Duke Leto's son with your Crysknife, however, love can be messier than blood.
You were unsure when it hit you as to what Paul was truly trying to accomplish. Was it when you were ready to draw your blade or when he looked you dead in the eyes with that godforsaken beautiful expression on his face? It was just unfair how he was able to halt your motions by looking at you; his grey-blue pupils looking brighter than the Arrakian sun as the moons shone down from above. It would've been an easy kill, really. But something told you that your plan wasn't going to work out.
In hesitation, you removed your hand from the hilt of your knife and allowed yourself to be lost in his gaze. Suddenly, he placed his lips on yours. You had heard of kissing before, but only in the books on the old worlds that the Harkonnens had within their library. Never thinking to experience it, you hadn't prepared yourself to combat it. In a way, it was more difficult than going over battle strategies or studying the history of The Imperium.
But to your surprise....you enjoyed kissing Paul.
He slowly moved himself away from you, looking into your eyes to try and get a glimpse of an emotion from you; any emotion at all would suffice. He felt warm as he enveloped himself into the embrace that was your kiss; thinking over and over his actions and pondering the potential consequences of them. Your eyes glimmered with something that he was unable to make out in the dark but he knew it was a ferocity equivalent to anger. But then, everything changed. Your face had softened and your eyes grew slightly wet. To say he was astonished by the fact that you could have any other emotion than coldness was an understatement. But he did know that he wanted to capture that look into his memory for as long as he lived.
And then- the impossible happened. You smiled.
"Paul..." Before you could get another word out, his lips were upon yours again, this time more feverishly. Your fingers intertwined in his hair as you forgot completely about the mission you were forced to pursue. The only thing your mind was capable of thinking was the boy in front of you.
Pulling away once more, he rested his head to yours. There was a softness that had entered the room now that all formalities had come to an end; the sound of heavy breathing was the only thing to be heard as you allowed the gap between the two of you to proceed once more.
"I've thought about doing that for a while now. I didn't think I would ever be granted the chance." He smiled.
"Paul." You said.
"Hm?"
"You just made my job a lot easier."
Suddenly a large boom could be heard from the outside. Before he had time to ask you what you meant, a brilliant orange light filled the window above and covered the dark night littered with stars. Something was burning.
He jumped up from where he was laying and immediately ran to the hallway, in hopes of glancing at some of the guards who would tell him what was going on. For the second time that night Paul was astonished. There were no guards anywhere in the vicinity. In fact, everything seemed dead besides from the war that raged outside.
You exited the room right after Paul. Heading for the stairs, you ran to make your way outside. This was it. Vladimir must've finally engaged in his plans. The coolness of the slab floor beneath your feet and the crisp air of the hallway was oddly enough like a slap in the face; a universal gesture saying, "This is it. Run for it."
Taking in harsh breaths as he watched your descent, Paul pushed back his hair and beelined towards his room. Throwing open the door in his haste, he quickly threw on a pair of training clothes and started to search for his shield. Once he found it, he would be able to slip it on and use it to withhold enemy attacks. Hopefully, they weren't familiar with technology from Caladan, whomever these attackers were. He quickly remembered the Hunter-Seeker from earlier. That wasn't a typical gadget known to Arrakis. Yet they had known.
Throwing a cape over his shoulders, he made his way to the commotion.
⌛⌛⌛
Jessica threw water over her still features as she glanced at herself in the mirror. There was something odd about the way her face had taken shape over the past couple of days, and she wondered if it could be sinking in due to her stress from the move. Arrakis wasn't her ideal home, but she was learning to make do with what she had considering she didn't have a choice in the matter. If Paul was really proven to be the Muad'Dib, then he wouldn't have been able to fulfill his prophecy on Caladan. Not that that was her reason for moving, but it was definitely an image that plagued her mind. Her son, all grown up. Constantly living in danger.
It was every parent's dream.
Sighing to herself, she fixed the straps on her nightgown and opened the door to her shared bedroom with the Duke Leto. The room itself was a dark brass color with ancient inscriptions on the walls and ceilings and an abundance of space. It was intimate with the way the room was dimly lit with candles; something again that she didn't see a lot of on Caladan. Her home used to be dark and gothic, with a clear view of grey skies and rain through every window. It was beautiful and perfect. And now she was stuck in a summery wasteland.
Sighing to herself, she slipped into the silky sheets that adorned the top of her mattress. The Duke's side of the bed was cold, as usual, meaning that there was something keeping him in the office; he would probably just sleep among the books again if given the change. The truth was, Jessica didn't like being alone, no. It was a type of loneliness that festered within the very being of her soul when it came to the nights she would find herself with only her thoughts to keep her company. Bene Gesserit, Muad'Dib, the Crysknife. Anything and everything that would pull on her heartstrings until awaking the next morning became a feat in itself.
And that mischievous son of hers. There was no way that he was staying out of trouble, not with you around. Jessica saw every glance in your direction that you didn't; Paul had quickly become infatuated with you. Whether it was because of the close proximity in age or if it was the brief conversations beforehand, she was surprised that her son had taken interest in a servant girl. No matter, he would eventually come to his senses.
One thing was for certain though. Jessica did not like you.
She tried to place her finger on exactly what it might be, but she just couldn't figure out why she found you so detestable. It had nothing to do with her son's intentions and everything to do with your demeanor. You were strong and held a face of power that all the servants she had met in her life didn't have. Almost like...almost like a Bene Gesserit.
As Jessica threw back her covers in realization, the house shook with the first blast of the enemy attack.
⌛⌛⌛
"Ataraxia!" Paul huffed after you once he caught a glimpse of your frame on the desert sands below. Cloak whipping around you, you held something close to your chest as you ran across the cool sands and towards the ships that started to invade the sky. With the fire burning behind you and the blaring of the bombs above, it was truly a sight to be seen as chunks of sand and ship debris flew around the night sky. The stars twinkling overhead managed to look so innocent compared to the rest of the setting; Paul being similar. The innocence that filled his eyes upon catching your gaze once you turned around at the sound of your name. His hair flying about and his nervous stance added to his confusion as you started to walk towards him.
"I promised to take your head. But if you wish to go with me entirely, I can't complain. My uncle desires your death more than the Fremens desire that cursed spice." You tried to voice your words with anger; getting closer and closer to the boy who had it coming from the start. It wasn't fair for him to do this to you, not now that you were so far into the game already. This kiss had really set you off and now you didn't know what to make of yourself. It wasn't fair. What compelled you to act like this?
Paul reached for the shield in his pocket and then- it hit him. Why you acted the way you did. What drew him in. You were never an ally to him or his family. The name Harkonnen filled his mind like a violent poison, reaching every crevice of his soul and leaving a dark empty void within him. It polluted the very veins within him, ripping out his heart and leaving a vile taste in his mouth. You were a traitor.
"O-oh." Was all he managed to say as he placed his hand on his chest in hopes to still his breathing. A dark and solemn look suddenly appearing on his face; he composed himself and gathered every ounce of strength within him as he prepared for a fight, remembering back to everything that Hawat had taught him. Turning on his shield, he furrowed his eyebrows and tried to change the image in his mind of you to become the enemy and not a lover, but to no avail. He couldn't hate you even if he tried to.
"Seriously, how dense do you have to be?" You said, expecting to be reveling off the fact that he had fallen directly into your trap. Yet something in you felt off. Paul was hurt and for some reason, it hurt you too.
"Ataraxia -"
"It's (Y/N)." You corrected him, now finally being able to give away your true name instead of going undercover with that stupid alias your uncle had made. "(Y/N) Harkonnen." Another blast of light was seen in the sky with a loud boom that followed. A piece of one of the Harkonnen ships flew overhead and landed about forty feet behind Paul, giving you the distraction you needed to attack. Without giving it too much thought, you ran forward and made a quick motion with your knife to try and slit Paul's throat. He must've anticipated this, for in a second his hands gripped both your wrists to try and hold you down. With surprise, you knee him in the stomach and drop down to grab your knife, placing it up to his throat once more. The shield around him started to burn with the color red as you held the knife in close contact, trying to break the device with the longer you held it there.
"Atara-(Y/N)! You don't have to do this!" Paul managed to get out between huffs. He used his previous training to break out of your grasp and to pin your arms behind your back, both of you falling to the sand. He holds you in place as you squirm in his grip, staring at him from above.
"You know, I might've actually enjoyed this under different circumstances." You kicked him in the face and waited for his natural retaliation before jumping up and pushing him back down, kicking him in the face and spraying blood from his nose onto the brown earth below. He had a gash along the underside of his chin and most definitely a broken nose. However; you hated to admit that he was still beautiful, even all bashed up and bruised.
"Oh fuck off." He spat and swerved out of the way before you could kick him again.
Just then the ground started to shake but in a way that was both familiar....and alarming. Your heart fell into the pit of your stomach as your brain put two and two together, knowing that the imminent threat of danger was Paul no longer. It was the Shai Hulud that buried itself deep within the sands.
⌛⌛⌛
(AN: Part four coming soon! Thank you all for being so patient with the third installment! 💛🦐)
Tags: @die-collective @xoxoloverb @totallynotkaibiased
Promise pt.2
PAUL ATREIDES X READER
You were to remain on Arrakis to aid in destroying the Atreides family: a Bene Gesserit trained assassin working for the Harkonnen House. It shouldn't have been hard to kill The Duke Leto's son with your Crysknife, however, love can be messier than blood.
The summery orange sky cast long shadows against the wooden floor, the sun illuminating the sands and everything within the castle as it set across the Arrakis sky. It was warm and comforting, but a reminder of the scorching heat of the outside. Looking out to the distance from the corridor window, one could see the crevices left by the sandworms in their wake; the earth caving in where they had dug through.
Walking Paul through what was once the Harkonnen House, you noticed things about the place that you hadn't before now that you had time to walk around for yourself. For instance, the way the stained glass windows of the downstairs cathedral style rooms created patterns against the ceilings and made everything a rainbow color. Or the way your shoes made noises against the freshly polished wood of certain areas within the home whereas they didn't on the smooth stone. There was a slight breeze that filled the hallways and flew strands of Paul's hair out of his eyes and all around his face. His eyes were a piercing grey-blue with an intensity in them today that you haven't seen in a while. His chiseled features were set in a frown as he glanced about the hallway, looking in any direction other than the one you were in. It was irritating.
"Something on your mind, sir?" You asked the tall boy next to you, awaiting a response.
"I thought I mentioned that we could drop the formalities between us?" He said in a short and curt tone. What was with him today? What had put him in such an agitated mood since leaving the dining hall?
"Forgive me Paul." You said obviously starting to get firey with every word that managed to escape your lips. Why is he being such a..... What did he call it the other day again? Bitchass?
He let out a puff of air and the expression on his face calmed a little. "I apologize for the abruptness, I just came back from an interesting conversation with my father."
His father! You hadn't caught a glimpse of him since the Atreides family had moved in. Always busying himself with the plans to harvest the spice and to keep the Fremens at bay, he was almost invisible.
It was getting harder and harder to accomplish your mission.
"Your father..?" You asked, leaving the conversation open for him to add his own input. If he could give any clues as to where he was or something in regards to strategies the Duke Leto shared with him in private, you might just be able to carry through with the attack before anyone got suspicious.
He pushed a few strands of hair out of his eyes and stopped dead center of the hallway, giving you a clear notion that he wanted you to pause your tour. His fingers twitched at his side and his anxiousness was evident, even through the facade he put on in front of you. You wondered why he would be carefree and heartfelt one moment and then tense and stoic the next. Was he struggling with his duty of becoming heir to the throne? Had his father mentioned something so troubling that things had gone haywire?
"I found a Hunter-Seeker today. It was in my room this morning."
The air around you suddenly felt cold. The comfort of the sunlight was no longer within the corridor as a chill ran down your spine. That wasn't a part of the plan.
"A-a Hunter-Seeker? Are you sure?"
"I'm pretty sure since I was almost killed." He said with a matter-of-fact tone. So this is what was stressing him.
"Did you contact anyone outside of your intermediate family? Did you talk to the guards? What did Hawat have to say about the ordeal? Is your mother-"
"Ataraxia." He held you down in place sensing your worry. Something about the way he held his palms against your shoulders calmed you down. It was a comforting touch but it could also be deadly if anyone is to see the two of you like this. You are, after all, just supposed to be a servant.
He paused a moment before you looked up at him with fury in your eyes. This isn't how things were supposed to go. You weren't told of there being another assassination attempt for the Atreides family since this was supposed to be your reconciliation with the Harkonnens. This was your ultimate approval of trust.
Maybe you were taking too long.
"Ataraxia? Why do you look angrier than me? I was the one who almost died." He pondered aloud.
Your hand went to caress the hilt of your Crysknife within your pocket to calm yourself. You were letting too much information slip through the cracks by allowing yourself to be upset over this. Paul was right.
"Forgive me. I lost my sense of place."
"It's quite alright. There's no harm in delving into one's own thoughts." He smiled with a pained expression and made a movement to carry on towards the end of the hall. You followed suit.
⏳⏳⏳
You pushed your face down into your pillow that night with an angry scowl and a menacing gaze. This was uncalled for. There was no one within the Harkonnen House that would be fit enough for your position; how could your uncle exile you to your home planet and force you to do his bidding without keeping promise of his reward? It made no sense as you were favored over Feyd-Rautha.
You turn over and stare at the ceiling above you. The maids quarters didn't have the skylight that your old room did; a place where you often found solace. It was impossible trying to sleep in the dingy and unkept room that you were expected to and instead you decided that you were angry enough to break the rules and be less cautious.
You were going to sneak back to your old room tonight.
The Atreides family hadn't used it yet to your knowledge. They had busied themselves with the other floors, being quick to set up offices and bedrooms and not having the time for much else. Hawat chose his own room and his training room on the far side of the House which left the upstairs basically uncharted. You would have to be quick throughout the halls as to not be seen, but once you had made it to the skylight room atop the roof, you would be fine for the night.
Slipping past the other sleeping maids, you made your way to the hall and slipped out the door. The night sky shone in through the many windows of the ancient building; the Arrakian moons almost as luminous as the sun. This moonlight allowed you to see as you slipped through the shadows and made your way to the staircase across from the Dining Hall. Being cautious of each step, you silently compiled yourself and your anxieties with sneaking out as you found the room with the only silver handle in the house. It had to be pushed inwards, not turned. You took a deep breath and allowed yourself to enter.
The skylight was the same as you remembered and as you'd figured, there was not a box in sight. The glass dome showed the stars and the moons of your beloved planet and the galaxies far beyond which were sure to be home to many other living creatures out there. You wondered what the extraterrestrials would be like and you shivered at the thought. Slimy and green you muttered to yourself and you laid on the floor, tilting your vision up to the sky.
"Slimy and green?"
You jolted backwards upon hearing another voice within the room. Twisting your body at a weird angle, you instinctively grab at the knife in it's holster and prepare yourself for a battle.
His brown hair was all curled in awkward places; a difference than it's usual contempt state. His lounge wear hugged his body in ways that were meant to provide utmost comfort, but it was clear that the set was too big for him. His eyes shone through the dark with their familiar friendly yet motivated gaze.
"Paul," you said, lowering your guard, "you scared me."
"My apologies, I promise you that it wasn't my intention." He smiled and positioned himself to lay next to you.
"What brings you up here? I figured everyone would be asleep." You asked. It was slightly annoying having to see him everywhere and never having any time to yourself. You always had to put up a front so that you would be able to carry out your duty in the end. It gets exhausting after a while.
"Should I be asking you the same thing?" He grins again and for a split second you could've sworn that he had made a suggestive look downwards. Just as quickly as his gaze was on you, it was back to the stars ahead and his eyes shone with the luminosity of it all.
"Right. I just- found this place the other day. Thought it would look cooler if I went to see it when the sun wasn't up." You lied straight to his face for what seemed like the millionth time that day. How many more lies would you have to tell?
"I come up here occasionally to watch the stars." He said, patting the space next to him to motion you towards the spot you were originally sitting in.
You calmed down and lowered yourself towards the ground next to the boy you were meant to kill. It felt odd knowing that you were playing a nice conversation with someone who would be bloody by your hands within the next couple of days if you played your cards right. You thought about carrying his beautiful head severed from his petite frame to Vladimir and receiving your reward for pleasing him. You thought about the way he would look next to both Jessica and Leto in the horrible graves of the bodies your uncle dumped when he was done profiting off of their murders. You thought about the smell of his ashes as he burned within the ground and joined the night sky that he looked at now.
And Paul thought of you. He'd hate to admit it, but you had taken over his mind lately. Fierce and opinionated, you were a force to be reckoned with. He hadn't met anyone his age nearly as interesting as they had all been too busy with that cursed Bene-Gesserit crap that he'd been forced to learn at such a young age. You were different.
And while you thought of his blood he thought of your lips. The way they would taste against his own and if you'd even like that. He thought of the way you outshone the stars and your intelligence of the cruelties of the world. Two kids forced to grow up too fast. He felt his chest make crazy palpitations; only something that happened when he was around the erratic Ataraxia. The mysterious girl who shrouded herself in the only darkness this planet had to offer. For once, Paul was thankful they had left Caladan.
You looked so beautiful with your hair sprawled out around you and your face tilted towards the glass above. The light brought out the angles of your face so that Paul could see you in a different way; he was used to seeing your skin kissed with the orange glow of the sun and now he could see the same you but with the silver of the moon. Paul wondered if the Fremen's spice dreams were of things just as beautiful.
The timing was almost so perfect you could feel it on your tongue. One hand on your knife, your mind ran crazy with the thoughts of finally being able to kill him. With a quick stab under the ribcage, he would be gone in moments. It would be too difficult of a wound to heal medically, and while he was gasping for air you could slit his throat. He was leaning into you and you were leaning into him. Two strikes would be all it took.
The timing was almost so perfect Paul could feel it on his tongue. One hand inching closer to yours, his mind ran crazy with the thoughts of finally being able to kiss you after thinking about it for so long. With a quick shift to his side, he could execute it fast and meaningfully as he hoped you would feel the same passion as him. It would be difficult to convince his parents to let you be with him and he knew he could be facing a lifetime of troubles if he really decided to be with you. There was just something so alluring about it that he couldn't help himself. You were leaning into him and he was leaning into you. One kiss would be all it took for him to know the truth. Was he in love?
One of you with the intent to kill and the other with the intent to love. Either way, it was a dance with death and the game the two of you were playing was dangerous.
Who's heart was going to break first?
⏳⏳⏳
(AN: Part Three coming soon!!! This was a short chapter, but I've been busy with a lot of things and haven't had as much time to write. I didn't want to keep you guys waiting for the second part!! Thank you for reading 💛🦐)
Tags: @die-collective
DUNE
Paul Atreides:
Promise: (Part One) You've made a promise to the Harkonnens to end the Atreides bloodline once and for all, working on the inside to take them down. It really sucks that your sworn enemy is hot.
Promise: (Part Two)
(Romance/Slight Angst/Enemies to Lovers)
Promise: (Part Three)
(Romance/Slight Angst/ Enemies to Lovers)