A Night On The Balcony *

a night on the balcony ༊*·˚

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synopsis: in which you and timothée go to a party during your vocation in venice

You were dancing crazily like you belonged to the music, like the music was a drug that brought you higher and higher until your heads were buzzing with pure joy. You were uncoiling ropes, with eyes on fire, unruly hair, both out of breath, covered in each other’s sweat.

Timothée gave you an impish look and then took your hand, his fingers cheekily wrapping around your palm, as he guided you through a sea of people. You looked down at his hand and then at the mischievous smile marked on his face, that not even your persistent stare was able to erase it. Your eyes fell again, slowly smiling, holding his arm to be closer to him with your free hand.

« Wait, » he pulled your hand to stop you from walking any further. You balanced your back on the wall, Timothée looking at you straight in the eyes with twitching lips that stayed half-opened. He leaned his head down an arm on the wall next to you, his curls tickling your nose. « I'm getting us drinks, » he pressed his nose against yours, your heavy breaths becoming one for a moment.

« Okay, » you gulped, eyes scanning the room around you as Timothée was lost in the crowd.

Timmy and you were on vacation in Venice, away from everyone and everything. You were both having such a great time, feeling invincible with all the freedom you had.

In the past, Timothée couldn’t really have a fun time with his girlfriends without getting captured by the paparazzi in their very personal moments. He didn’t want the same thing to happen to you, so you decided to keep things out of the public eye for as long as you could.

Finally, you found the time to be together out of the spotlight to have some moments only for yourselves in a place far away from home, and do things you wouldn't normally do in New York out of fear of getting caught.

You were going sightseeing, spending countless hours in museums just staring at paintings and statues that were staring back at your souls. You were having late night raids to the cinema that was close to the apartment you rented. One night, DUNE was screening and you begged Timothée to rewatch it on the big screen. Timothée couldn’t stop smiling the whole time, feeling extremely uncomfortable at the view of himself, his face concealed by his cap and his body deeply buried in the seat. You were walking on the cobblestone and on extremely quiet alleys that were either washed with sun or under the light of faint square streetlights, as you were eating gelato, and exchanging your cones. You were meeting with friends at their houses, having dinners, going to clubs together, getting drunk.

That was one of those nights. Your friends knew this couple that was having a party at their house and you were invited to join as well. You had both decided to get dressed, well, in the case of Timothée undress, because he just wore his jacket, torso bare, with the excuse of the weather being “too hot”. You just widened your eyes looking at him and nodded eagerly making him laugh and rub your whole face with his hand playfully.

However, when you got out of the apartment waiting for Tim to lock the door, you quickly realized that he just wanted to show off his abs after all the training for his new film. Even though you were wearing a long dress, your back was exposed and you could feel the chilly breeze hit your spine.

You didn’t have many days left in Italy but you smiled at the thought of your lovely stress-free vacation. You headed to the balcony only to realize that it was actually very narrow and right underneath your feet and the layers of concrete, was running a canal.

As your eyes gazed at the water dancing slowly in harmony, a pair of hands lightly pushed you to the front making you gasp and slightly jump. Timothée quickly turned you with his arms wrapped tightly around your waist and leaned forward to kiss you. You chuckled moving your head to the side for his lips to land on your cheek.

« Got scared? », he laughed. « As if I’d ever let you fall. »

« I didn’t get scared, » you gritted your teeth holding tightly the sides of his face to look at him. He smiled warmly, slowly his gaze moving to the ground and then with a quick move he pecked your lips.

« I got our drinks, » Tim said separating from you, getting them from the inside table where he had placed them. « And Stéphane gave me something, » he fumbled in his pocket finally getting out a joint.

« Ooh, » you grinned taking a seat on the narrow balcony. He chuckled and sat across from you on the railings. « You are going to fall right into that canal and everyone tomorrow will think that I killed Timothée Chalamet, » you said.

« Oh my God, » he shook his head with a smile taking your feet on his lap to remove your heels.

« Sorry, I care, » you widened your eyes lightly tilting your head to the side.

« Sorry, I care, » he tried to imitate your voice making it a little too high-pitched causing you to almost spit your drink. Timothée looked at you with an impish smile, the one he always gave you after doing something incredibly funny - according to him. You lightly kicked him on his belly. He gasped squeezing your legs for revenge but finally brought them close to his mouth to kiss them.

« I hate you, you always make fun of me, » you pouted your lips sadly.

« Oh, come on, » Tim smiled at you. « You can’t stay mad at me. »

« I can try, » you clenched your jaw to stop smiling.

« You can try? », Tim asked playfully, as he let your legs down and sat next to you. He pulled one arm around your shoulder bringing you closer to kiss your forehead, as your lips landed on his chest.

« I’m going to miss this, » you said. Tim’s lips separated and looked down as your fingers followed the line of his jaw, to his neck, to his chest, pulling his jacket to the side. You leaned down to place kisses on top of his soft skin.

« These were the best days of my life, » he pulled your hair out of your face, behind your ears.

« Mine too, » you breathed out getting your drink back and taking another sip.

« It’s fucking ridiculous, » he mumbled after a long pause. « I wish people could just mind their own damn business. I can’t do that, » Tim held your hand intertwining your fingers. « I can’t do that, » he kissed your lips. « Or that, » he moved to your neck.

You took a long breath, your eyes moving up in the night sky at the stars that seemed like gems scattered around the black veil. His hand cupped the left side of your face pulling the hair behind your ear, his thumb moving alongside your jawline, as he kissed you deeply.

You felt his tongue lightly licking your lips making you chuckle against his mouth. He smiled back, as his curls fell on your forehead almost covering your eyes.

He slowly pulled back and finished his drink before leaving his jacket to the side. You were staring at him. You had seen his body so many times, yet you were always looking at his porcelain, sculptured, skin as if you were gazing at a statue of an angel and had to pray.

He took out of his pocket the joint and placed it between his lips while searching for a lighter. You leaned down and took it from his mouth to place it on yours. He glanced at you once and smiled.

« Got it, » Tim said trying to light the joint for you.

You breathed in slowly and then released a cloud out. You smiled rubbing your eyes once and then passing it to him.

« Oh my God, you hear that? », he suddenly widened his eyes slowly moving his head to the beat. Without much thinking, you got his jacket and put it on, his smell slipping onto your body. You could feel the joint working as you pulled your hair out of the jacket, hearing Timothée’s voice in the background singing along to the rhythm. « It’s time to make your mind up, aight // To wake your mind up, aight // Ai-aight, we-we aight, aight // We, we, we ai-aight. »

You chuckled watching Timmy vibing with eyes closed, his shoulders and his head swinging smoothly like air running around trees.

You closed your eyes too.

sink ༊*·˚

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synopsis: regulus is gone forever and you can’t believe it

for a more painful experience read his last letter first

Death is said to be the great equalizer. Laying low the rich, the poor, the chaste, and the glutenous. Yet in the end, it is not the one who dies that feels the most sorrow, but rather those around him. The ones who loved, and were loved, the ones that stayed behind.

It wasn’t a bang, an apocalypse, or some biblical disaster that ended your world, but some sloppily written words on a crumpled paper.

It's so cold here and I can’t stop remembering. My heart has no pity on me.

I love you forever.

R.A.B.

Your lips twitched still looking at the paper, forehead slowly creasing as you brought the paper close to your mouth until it touched your lips. It was his damn scent, his damn handwriting, his damn words.

« Is... », you pressed your eyes shut for a second and then lightly shook your head, glancing at the Elf that was standing right in front of you, frozen like a small statue. « Is this some kind of sick joke? » His eyes fell to the ground at the sound of your voice. What could the poor thing say to console you when he could barely console himself?

Kreacher chose not to reply. Words didn't matter anymore.

The last words that mattered were his, and he had spoken them.

You sealed your mouth, biting hard your upper lip as if trying to rip off your skin.

« Kreacher, » you held your tears inside, "this isn’t funny." Your body felt hot, yet you were shivering. You were paralyzed, yet your jaw was trembling.

You were utterly shocked, unable to understand the words that were written on that paper. The world was crumbling around you and you were the last one standing.

The Elf breathed out and shook his head. You leaned yours trying to catch his stare and forced a small smile that fell immediately.

« This isn’t funny, » your voice cracked pressing your mouth hard.

Kreacher slightly raised his gaze only for your glossy eyes to meet his cold orbs. Your lips separated studying carefully his features. Puffy cheeks stained with droplets, a long hooked nose colored in a red shade all enlarged from crying, pinkish thin lips. You locked eyes, but he couldn’t keep looking at you with that minimal shadow of hope you were still carrying in your heart. The grief was too heavy for him and was pulling his weak body down.

« Please, tell me this is a joke. »

« Master would never joke about something like that, Miss. »

« Then where is he, Kreacher? », your brows knitted together trying to comfort each other. « He was supposed to be here. He promised to be here. »

You wished you could’ve misinterpreted the silence of the creature, but even if you did, nothing was going to change that didn't that slipped from his mouth seconds ago.

Nothing was going to bring him back.

« Why isn’t he here? », your eyes were sparkling from the boiling water beneath them, floods concealing behind the painful expression of loss. Kreacher breathed out heavily looking at your stare.

« Y/N... », he spoke softly.

« Where is Regulus? », you asked tears slowly streaming down your hot cheeks as you squeezed your eyes to stop them.

« Y/N... », Kreacher repeated giving you a pleading look.

« No ! », you cried loudly.

« Master Regulus won’t come, » his stare fell to the ground.

At these words, you gradually took a shaky breath, pulling up your nostrils. Your expression deformed, giving place to anger and the rage of a Maenad. Your eyes turned hard and flinty, glaring tightly at the Elf, which took a step back, his face questioning your look.

« Where is Regulus ? », you asked clenching your jaw to control your voice. Kreacher shook his head.

« I-I can’t say, » he glanced at you horrified. Kreacher swore that he saw flames coming out of your eyes that night. You were terrifying to look at, like something written by Edgar Allan Poe. « He wouldn’t want you to know. »

« Where is Regulus ? » Every word came out with a small pause as you walked forward to approach him. The poor Elf had never seen you like this, no one had. He shook his head.

« I promised- »

« Where the fuck is Regulus ? », you yelled loudly. Without getting a response, your hands fumbled on your clothes bringing forward your wand. « I swear, Kreacher, if you don’t tell me where Regulus is... I will fucking kill you. »

« Y/N, Regulus- Regulus is gone. » Your eyes twitched and your hand trembled uncontrollably, pointing at the Elf.

« Don’t say that ! », you cried. « Tell me where is he or I’ll kill you ! »

« Regulus is dead ! », poor Kreacher cried back. You had to hear it and accept it. Besides, he didn't really care about his life anymore, not without his Master, his friend. You pressed your lips into a hard expression and blinded by pain and sorrow you spoke.

« Avada Kedav- »

You didn’t finish your sentence.

You couldn’t finish your sentence.

You threw your wand away and fell to the ground sent into spasms filled with kneeing grief. Devastated and enraged you burst into tears.

No one could understand the pain you felt. It wasn’t the one with the screams, tears, and sobs. It was the other one; the one with the welled eyes and sobs that were coming up to your throat, and you would rather bite your lips and let the painful tears choke you, break your heart in pieces, than allow them to get out for the world to see.

And as you stayed there, curled to the ground, away from the world and everything that was alive, with Kreacher’s shaky hand on your shoulder and his last letter pressed against your chest, murmuring over and over those same words, he promised to be here, like a prayer coming out of your lips, his scent traveling from the paper to the world, you felt the memories that once warmed you, tearing your bones apart.

And as your hand slipped to the dewy grass, you wondered how could the Earth allow this to happen. Of all the times, the Earth decided to take him at that specific moment, when the branches were blooming and the spring was painting the ground.

Oh, Regulus, you thought, can you listen to me from up there ?

Without knowing it, you were with him, always on his mind. You were the only reason he had doubts about what he was going to do. He thought about returning so many times he had lost count along the way. But that was him keeping his promise. Being good and doing the right thing.

Regulus was sitting on the ground. It was so cold, colder than his house, colder than any place he had ever been to. So cold, that was spreading shivers to every part of his body. His breath was coming out along with salty tears traveling all the way down to his neck.

It was cold, dark and there was water.

He stood up. It was time.

Tears were still stained in his eyes, but he didn’t plan to wipe them because they were for you and he wanted something of you to be with him in his last moments, to somehow have you by his side and feel less lonely in that pitch black abyss of a cave.

He tried to smile thinking that you might be watching him from a corner and laughing at his expression. He didn’t want to look like a coward in your eyes.

Regulus took a deep breath.

The only thing that was comforting him was that in the distant future, you would meet again one day, and then all the nights, all the stars, all the songs, would be yours.

Without much thinking, he walked into the cave.

It was even colder, ever darker and water was everywhere.

And just so you know, his last thought was you. And his last breath was your name.

Can I request one where tim and y/n are co stars and they go to an event or something. And y/no’s ex is there who cheated on her so they try to make him jealous but at the end they realize they LOWKEY like each other. Thank u!!

it was you all along ༊*·˚

part i

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« We are here! », the driver announced. You smiled nervously feeling your heart pounding wildly and shivers running down to every part of your body. It felt as if you forgot how to breathe for a moment. Your stomach was tied into knots and your hands were unconsciously trembling.

You really didn't want to go.

After everything that happened between you and your ex-boyfriend, the last thing you wanted to do was make public appearances.

« Are you okay, Y/N? », your manager asked. You smiled at her and nodded positively. You had no intention to worry her since she was the one who so eagerly wanted to be there. « Don't be nervous, » she told you cupping your cheek. « I am very proud of you. You deserve this. » You gulped and bobbed your head again. « You look beautiful, let's go, » she said as your door opened letting inside hysterical screams.

Loud voices could be heard from every direction combined with the sound of camera rolls. Your manager was the first to get out of the car, followed by you.

« Thank you, » you smiled at the man that held your hand to help you get out of the car. Your eyes scanned the place that was filled with photographers, media, and fans screaming their lungs out for you.

A pair of heels brushed against the red carpet followed by your silky dress. You posed in front of the camera for a few moments, before moving to your fans. Their screams became even louder once you approached them, causing a grin to appear on your face.

They were so kind to you, none of them mentioning the drama you were involved a month before. You happily signed autographs, took pictures with them, and spoke to them for a while. It was only fair that you spent some time with them, after all, they were always supporting you on your long journey to Holywood.

« Hi, you look great, » you said to some of them as you signed books and papers.

« Y/N, you look amazing! », a fan yelled from the back making you raise your eyes from the paper and smile at them.

Some of them asked for a hug and you were more than happy to give it to them followed by a kiss on the cheek. There was this girl with a polaroid camera that asked if you could pose for her and you gladly did.

Minutes later, your manager tapped your shoulder to move to the interviewers that called your name.

« Hi, » you shook the hand of a woman. « You look amazing. »

« You look amazing, » the interviewer chuckled at you leaving your hand free. « We are here with nominee Y/N L/N! Congratulations on your nomination, Y/N. » « Thank you, » you smiled kindly.

She started asking you questions about your nomination, your clothes, and your feelings for the night. One by one, you replied to her questions with honesty, until you heard the crowd going crazy and turned around to see who was on the carpet that caused all that panic.

Your smile disappeared. You felt out of place and time as you watched your ex-boyfriend walking on the red carpet. Your eyes were fixed on him, the voice of the interviewer fading in the background.

This man treated you like shit for more than three years with the peek being a video that was spread all across the internet of him making out with a random girl at a club.

From the moment he entered your life to the moment he exited, he only left ruins.

You were a very closed and private person. Acting for you was nothing more than a job. Unlike other celebrities, you weren't willing to sacrifice your private life at the altar of money and fame. Your job was your job and your personal life was your personal life. You had drawn a very distinctive line between the two of them since the beginning of your career, not letting anyone interfere or mix things up. You were serious with your job. It wasn't a hunt for popularity or for feeding your ego, it was your job.

The fact that you didn't have any public social media or you never overshared anything about your private life was a big topic of discussion, especially during interviews. Your secrecy was working both as a temptation for people to uncover who you really were, and at the same time as a weapon to protect yourself, your loved ones and live your life peacefully.

You were Hollywood's mystery, a question mark, and you had no intention of turning into a comma.

All until you met him, Paolo Scotti.

He was a new director doing mostly short films in the beginning, inspired by the French New Wave, chasing a place in the world of fame. Some film critics were calling his work pretentious, and others thought he was a genius.

But you didn't give any attention to the critics. You had fallen madly in love. From the moment you exchanged your first words, you loved him. He was smart and creative and he had so much passion for what he was doing.

You starred in most of his filmography. People considered you his muse. And even though he was your boyfriend, no one had ever said anything about him favoring you, because you were truly brilliant at your work. In fact, most people were saying that you were the only reason the movies were good in the first place. And that was the truth. You were his ticket to success.

At first, he was laughing with you and responded with something like « Of course, my muse is the person I fell in love with. » Or when they were asking him « Why do you always pick Y/N in your films? », he would reply: « I need to love the people I film, that's why I always take Y/N L/N. »

But later, when he got the Palme d'Or and he became famous, his behavior behind the scenes started to change.

He became harsher to you and to the other actors as well. He was being cruel, yelling at you, torturing you by performing the same scenes over and over, only for him to finally choose your second or even first take.

And you were trapped in a weird place, where you had to agree and accept everything in fear of losing him. But the closer you got, the more difficult it became to detach from him. You had rejected very good opportunities just because he gave you ridiculously long speeches about how they were going to ruin your career. You didn't work with Greta Gerwig because Little Women was « a film for children. » You didn't work with Denis Villeneuve because Dune was an action movie and "you'll never be able to detach from your character." You didn't work with many great names that wanted specifically you for their roles.

And you never complained to him. You trusted him because you loved him and you thought he wanted the best for you.

You started to get suspicious of this behavior after another film opportunity.

Luca Guadagnino wanted you for his leading role in a new film, starring alongside Timothée Chalamet. You had worked with Luca in the past and of course, you knew Timothée Chalamet from his previous works but you had never collaborated with him.

Luca, one of the most notable directors, was offering you the leading role without even an audition because he wanted you. There was nothing that would make you refuse. You loved Luca and you kept in touch with him after a film you had worked on together in the past. He was like your mentor or father, since he was the one that introduced you to the industry when you were only fourteen years old. He saw something in you that didn't want to waste it. Till then, he was giving you advice and had openly announced his disapproval of the roles you were rejecting.

When your manager called to inform you about Luca's new movie, the first thing you did, before calling your parents, before calling your friends, before calling Luca himself, was to call him. Not only wasn't he happy, but he also insisted that you refuse the role because it would destroy your career.

« Believe me Y/N the last thing you need is a romance movie, » he said. You tried to explain to him that it wasn't just a romantic film, but he was so stubborn and wouldn't listen to you. He kept insisting that he was right.

Even the way that he was speaking was possessive. He would raise his voice like some kind of politician and he would keep talking loud and clear no matter what you were saying, completely ignoring your voice, causing you to just stop.

You had a long discussion about this because you appreciated him as an artist and of course, wanted his opinion. But hearing everything he had to say and actually listening to his words just made you feel uncomfortable around him. He wasn't protective. He didn't care about your career. He was controlling and selfish.

Nevertheless, you accepted the role and that was one of the best decisions you had ever made. The energy on set was incredible and never before did you have so much fun while making a film.

The main reason for that was Timothée. You had heard from other actors about the energy he brought and you were lucky enough to witness yourself.

Thinking all this while being nominated for a leading role, made you feel so stupid for ever falling in love with him. He was trying to manipulate you from the beginning of your relationship. You had lost so many opportunities because of him.

And not only had you lost a big part of your career, but you had also lost your dignity. He cheated on you because he was mad that he couldn't have you fully.

« Excuse me, what was the question? », you turned back to the woman with a flustered look on your face. You smiled apologetically at her.

« Are you excited to see anybody win? », she asked you.

« Oh, em... Timmy obviously, » you said your lips slowly curling up.

« Of course, Timothée, he's nominated as well, congratulations to him. »

« I really hope he wins... Honestly, I'd be happier for him to win than I'd be for myself. » The interviewer smiled warmly.

« Is there anyone else you have your hopes up for? »

« No, not really, » you replied truthfully. « I don't have a particular person in mind. »

« Not even Paolo Scotti? » The question found you unprepared. Your lips slightly separated not really sure how to respond. The interviewer was smiling with that fake enthusiasm, but you could tell she must've felt really proud for asking a question like that and making you speechless.

« What are you talking about? », a loud joyful voice rang to your ear as an arm wrapped around your waist and a pair of wet lips touched your cheek. You grinned immediately because without even looking at who it was you already knew by his scent alone.

« Oh my God, hi! », you smiled and hugged him, looking up at his eyes that though they appeared tired, had a radiant brightness spreading out of them, as if they were blue, green, brown galaxies all mixed together.

He lightly leaned his head brown curls falling on top of your forehead as his ticklish hot breath moved to your ear.

« I thought you weren't coming, » he whispered for only you to hear. Your smile grew even brighter at the sound of his voice. You leaned your head to his ear.

« It was mandatory, » you said making him chuckle. Your faces were only centimeters apart, so close that your noses even touched. « Besides, I wanted to be here for you, » you locked eyes for a moment. He lightly clenched his jaw to stop his grin from growing even bigger and then looked away with pinkish cheeks.

« Hello! », the reporter said. « You look amazing tonight, Timothée! »

« Thank you, thank you, » he said.

« How do you find Y/N tonight? » Tim rubbed his face with his hands and glanced once at you before replying.

« That's not even a question, » he smiled. « Beautiful as always. » Your jaw clenched to prevent yourself from smiling.

« She is beautiful, » the interviewer agreed. « And do you think she's going to win tonight? »

« She's already a winner for me, but it'd be fucking awesome if she won a statue. » You laughed at his words and he smiled down at you. « I know Mrs. L/N wants it for the living room. » You lightly shook your head before he waved to the camera. « Love you, Mrs. L/n! »

« Love you mom, » you chuckled back.

« Well, good luck to both of you, I'm crossing my fingers! »

« Thank you, » you and Timmy mumbled before walking away. He playfully pushed your shoulder with his and smiled warmly. You laughed and shook your head questionably. You slowly walked to the Theater.

Timothée was Timothée.

While filming, you had connected with him from the moment you first looked at each other. He was hypnotizing and charming. Whenever he was looking at you, he made you unconsciously smile only because his eyes met yours, and whenever he was speaking, you couldn't help but hang from every word of his and stare at the way his lips and his hands were moving. He must have noticed once, because he chuckled and looked away leaving red marks on his cheeks.

But you didn't just like Timothée and his energy. You like yourself when you were with him.

Luca had noticed your chemistry and how magnetic you were for one another. After shooting the very first scene of you together, he knew that something didn't feel right. So, he decided to do something he had never done before, he let you shoot the movie just like Godard, without a script. You and Timothée were both skeptical and anxious, but Luca insisted. And of course, he was right because you ended up both being nominated.

Everything was coming off so naturally, your reactions were so genuine, that at some point you attached to your roles -- or your roles attached to you, and it didn't feel like the cameras existed or you were shooting a film anymore.

The film was just you two being yourselves. That attachment to your roles caused a few problems on set, for example, sometimes you forgot you were surrounded by cameras and accidentally called the other by their real name. At times like these, Timothée was turning red like a tomato and you were losing your words, but in the end, none of you laughed, you were just looking awkwardly away. This was happening so often, that it had turned into an inside joke that the two of you didn't find funny at all.

« Man, I haven't seen you in like... », Tim furrowed his brows thinking. « I don't know how long but it's definitely more than a month. »

« Yeah, sorry about that, » you murmured looking away from him.

« No, no, I didn't say that to get an apology, » he rushed to add and stopped walking. He towered over you taking your hand and rubbing your palm. « I was just worried, you know? You didn't reply to my calls, to my texts... I-I was scared you did something stupid. » You pressed your lips while shaking a little your head. « But I called your mom and she said you were back home. I was going to come- » You raised your brows in surprise. You were living on different continents, there was no way he was getting on a plane for so many hours just to check on you. Only a liar or a madman could think like that. In Timothee's case, it was neither of those two, just a third thing he was keeping for himself. He saw your look and continued. « I was truly going to come but I figured you needed some time. »

« I just needed some time alone, » you said.

« It's just that I missed you so much, » Timothée said. A smile slowly grew on your lips and then you wrapped your arms around his neck bringing him down into a hug. You could hear the sound of his lips curling up.

« I missed you too, » you said to his ear.

« I can't believe I didn't see you for a month because of that douchebag, » you felt him shaking his head. You breathed out heavily. Timothée was so right. You were missing so many things because of him. He had destroyed everything and he still did even when he wasn't with you.

You pulled away from each other hearing someone calling his name. It was his manager motioning his arm to follow him.

« I have to go, » Timothée said. « I'll find you when I finish whatever I have to do, okay? »

« Okay, don't worry, Tim, » you grinned at him.

« See you in a bit, Y/N, » he smiled back at you waving his hand.

You decided to go inside the Theater, find Luca and the rest of the crew. But the moment you entered you felt a hand pulling back your shoulder, causing you to stumble at the force it used. You frowned as you turned around only to face your ex.

« What the fuck? », you yell-whispered not wanting to get caught by cameras.

« I need to talk to you, » he said in a pleading tone.

« I don't think we have anything to talk about, » you replied.

« We most certainly do, » he left a small laugh as if what he was saying was so obvious to you.

« Paolo, I don't want to have anything to do with you, » you said firmly.

« Look, Y/N, I really don't want to fight, I just want to apologize. »

« Apologize for what exactly? », you asked patiently wrapping your arms around your waist. He ran a hand through his hair and breathed out.

« For everything, » Paolo looked you in the eyes. You were so mad at him for having the nerve to look you in the eyes after he cheated on you and everything he did.

« For everything, » you repeated his words in a mocking tone. You weren't going to let him ruin your day. « I'm leaving, I can't even look at you. »

« Of course, go back to your new French boyfriend, Chalamet, » he scoffed.

« Oh, » you smiled almost laughed. « Now I get it. You don't want to apologize, you just got jealous of Timothée. »

« I didn't get jealous, » he said. You raised your brows giving him a 'really' look as he breathed out. « Look, I know was an asshole, but... »

« But what, Paolo? », you asked. You gulped feeling your eyes hot and ready to tear. « I loved you, » you said pressing your lips tightly to hold yourself and not cry. « I loved you so so much, but you treated me like shit! I trusted you, I listened to you, I put up with your insults, your anger, your ego, your stubbornness, all that because I loved you and nothing else mattered to me. »

« Babe, » he touched your hand.

« No, » you sniffed and shook your head. « Call babe the girl you cheated on me. »

« I'm so sorry for everything, » he spoke. « I truly am. Please, let's try again... »

« I-no, » you shook your head again looking away. From far away you noticed Timothée coming in your direction and lightly smiled taking courage. « This, won't happen again, » you pointed between you two and left.

Paolo's eyes followed you as Timothée gave you a warm smile opening the door for you to get inside the Theater. He noticed the smile you had as you whispered something in his ear and jealousy overtook him. You were his and no one else's. His eyes stung Timothée's, who glared back at him. He was determined to win you back.

Together you walked inside finding your place with Luca, who immediately hugged you tightly while telling you how much he missed you and so did the rest of the team.

« What did you say? », Timothée leaned to ask you.

« Nothing, » you pressed your lips. « He just got jealous and now he wants to get back together. » Timothée gulped and sat better in his seat.

« Why did he get jealous? », he asked.

« He thinks we are together, Tim, » you explained. His eyes widened for a moment but then he smiled as the lights slowly went down.

« Y/N? », he leaned to your ear. You looked at him. « Do you want to make him pay? » You didn't speak but then bobbed your head.

« Yes, » you said without hesitation.

« Then, show him that you moved on. »

« What do you mean? », you asked.

« We could pretend to be together for the rest of the night. Show him that he doesn't own you anymore. »

« And you own me? »

« Or you own me? », he said back. You smiled and you heard his lips forming a smile.

« Fuck, » you said. Timothée didn't speak waiting for your response. « Let's fucking do this. »

i am convinced that a kiss from timothée chalamet would solve 99% of my problems

pygmalion and galatea ༊*·˚

m.list ◦ askbox

synopsis: in which regulus is a painter and you are his muse

*18+, minors DNI, sexual themes & references, romantic dynamic, first time, consent

Your eyes were fixed on him and couldn't look away.

Regulus had the face of Apollo. Sharp yet smooth features with soft curves, plump reddish lips, and a slim straight nose with a little bump on it. His seemingly tired eyes were like the sky on a winter's day, rounder on the outside, corners pointing downwards.

Everything on him was so balanced and symmetric, even the curls that were spread messily around him. Watching the hair fall on top of his forehead, covering his eyes, made you want to extend your hand, to brush it off, and all love pull it behind his ear.

He glanced up at you for a few moments at the feeling of your persistent stare, causing your eyes to move to the window behind him. You gulped ashamed that for a second or two, he caught you looking at him. You heard a smile forming on his face as he turned back to his canvas.

You had been working with Regulus for quite a while. He was laconic, only saying what was necessary to be said, nothing more, nothing less. However, your curiosity had forced you to spend hours and hours just examining him. You had learned every move of his by heart.

When he didn't like something he curled up his nose in discomfort. When he didn't like your pose or wanted you to fix your posture, he was biting his lips while quickly exchanging glances between you and the canvas. When he was running his hands through his hair, you knew you were done for the day. He didn't need to say a word and you understood immediately what he wanted.

His gaze moved back to you and his eyes stayed there for longer than you expected. Without realizing he was still looking at you, you dared to glance at him. He smiled watching you hold your breath and lightly shook his head at the irony of your timidness.

The dark candlelit room was exhaling erotic air. The trembling orange glow was softly hugging the curves of your body. You laid on a couch, a few meters away from him, posing; head balanced on your left hand that was on top of your right one, both placed on the arm of the couch, your body was spread sideways; right thigh on top of your left that was lightly extended to the front, creating shadows that were hiding your secret spots.

You had posed for many artists in the past but Regulus was the only one able to bring you self-consciousness. He made you feel vulnerable in front of him and incredibly nervous. Little did you know, to Regulus you were the most beautiful woman. He was in love with you.

Because of you, he was living in a constant contradiction. He wanted to look at you all day every day, but at the same time, he couldn't wait for you to leave so he could hug the couch that touched your body.

The secret to not revealing his feelings for you was to not speak and not look at you. But that day maybe it was the lust in the atmosphere, maybe it was your pose, maybe it was your siren stare, he felt extremely bold.

You watched his Adam's apple rising and falling as he maneuvered his hips to the seat. Regulus' grip on his pencil got harder, so tight almost able to break it in half. His eyes sealed shut for a moment. As if Regulus heard your prayers, he looked at you, eyes dark by shadows, and let the pencil fall to the ground. You repositioned yourself, as you turned your head to the large windows on the side.

You heard the sound of the chair against the wooden floor and then slow steps towards you. You gulped, as you turned around only to see him standing right in front of you, crouched to meet your height.

Your lips separated releasing breaths you didn’t know you were holding. Heartbeat became unsteady when his dirty palm touched your cheek, leaving red stains of paint behind it. He held you, his thumb trailing all the way up until it reached your ear, as his other fingers hugged the side of your neck.

His head leaned close and eyes moved from your sparkling stare to your soft lips. With forehead almost touching forehead and tasting the other's breath, you tented your neck closing the gap between you. Your hand moved to his wrist, fingers wrapping kindly around his pulse.

Regulus tied both hands on the back of your neck lightly standing up and sitting on the couch beside you, then leaning his body against yours.

His lips were silky and felt like you were touching clouds. You let his hand free run down the line between your chest and find his way to the curve of your waist, coloring you as he swam down your body.

You gasped hard at his arm that traveled back on your breast. Regulus' breath was coming out in flustered pants. His lips moved to your jaw, kissing tenderly your neck and then down your collarbones, ending on your chest. You could feel his sweaty hair caressing your skin. You moaned pulling his curls behind, holding them out of his face, while he was licking, lightly sucking your tender skin.

He smiled as he kissed your belly and you breathed out shakily watching the way his grey eyes were fixed on you. He moved lower and lower until he ran his tongue on your pubic hair, his hands rubbing both sides of your outer thighs and then your buttocks.

You chuckled at him, your little laugh breaking the deadly silence that dominated the room. He couldn't help but smile again, his eyes meeting yours, as his fingers moved into the inside of your thighs and then slowly on your knees.

He moved one of your legs and without much thinking, he dived in between them. He looked up at you as he sucked your folds and buried his tongue inside. Your hands pulled his hair and pressed him down on you, not sparing a moment to waste.

You were already wet, Regulus must have realized himself, that's why he was looking at you. Your head fell back on the arm of the couch as you moaned. Every time he got deeper and deeper, faster and faster, sucking your folds hard as if trying to drain them. He made you completely soaked and you were ready to release with trembling legs that he held both sides steady while his head was deep, finding its way inside you.

Feeling that you were ready, Regulus pulled back and sucked your folds. His head came out of your thighs to take a breath and a muffled cry escaped your lips, holding tightly his wrist to the couch.

He leaned down and with a mischievous smile, his tongue lashed at everything it could get while sucking on you at the same time. He had you in his mouth, dripping from his lips.

Regulus stood up and pecked your lips once. Your eyes followed him, your whole body panting, looking at him carelessly unbuttoning his white shirt and tossing it to the floor next to you. You leaned down on the couch to both your elbows gazing at him, anticipation causing you to grin, as he took down his black pants, followed by his stained trunks.

Your head slightly tilted to the side, in your face marked a dreamy look. His body was lean with taut muscles and an erection.

He carefully fell on top of you, on that old worn-out couch. His chest was pressed on top of yours and you could feel his bulge between your legs. He groaned, locking you between his arms, his cock trying to find its way inside you. Your hands took his wet length squeezing it gently before placing it on your opening.

Only the tip of his cock made your whole body shake. You let your head fall back as Regulus pressed down on you, his lips releasing hot breaths on your ear. He kissed you sweetly.

Regulus hovered over you again your faces only centimeters apart, lips almost touching. Both of your hands cupped his face for just a few seconds so you could see him clearly. He was like a wild animal. That blissed-out expression, that tilt of the head, the movement of the Adam's apple struggling to swallow.

Your skins brushed savagely, yet with a strange tenderness against each other. Every move was so barbaric but kind at the same time. You could breathe the other in, stained moans eliciting from both of you.

The couch rattled beneath you as Regulus' pelvis smushed inside you, animalistic screams of delight leaving both your mouths.

« Oh, fuck! », Regulus gasped. « I feel like fucking Pygmalion. » His words made you smile. « Does that make me Galatea? », you asked cheekily. Regulus grinned while his whole body was panting.

Shadows casted by the flinching light of the candles towered over you at the walls making you look five times bigger than you actually were, imitating your every move like mirrors.

« Regulus! », you breathed out as he jerked against you again causing both of you to release at the same time. Regulus tiredly fell on top of you, hugging you tight. His eyes moved up to you and smiled watching your beautiful almost painful grimace.

Hands cupped your flushed panting face, holding it tightly with his shaky grip, and his thumbs wiped away your tears. He pressed his forehead against yours, your sweat mixing up, as he looked into your eyes and then smashed a kiss on your lips.

The summer breeze flew inside dragging the curtains with it and burning off the candles. You looked at him laying on top of you, the moonglow caressing his pale skin, and you thought feeling his heart pounding against your belly, that this was your person and you wanted to stay there, glued to him forever.

dude blocked me because i said paul atreides is cooler than jesus