#timothee x reader

You’re standing just inside the threshold, robes still creased from sleep, dust on your sleeves from the wind outside.

You had come looking for him — for a quiet moment, maybe, or just the comfort of his voice. But instead you walk into a ring of cold-faced commanders, a daughter of an empire gleaming like forged metal at his side, and Paul, standing at the center of it all like a man carved from stone.

Your heart folds before he even speaks.

The room feels too warm. Or maybe it’s you — heat rising up your neck like shame, like fear, like grief not yet formed.

You stand perfectly still, because you know if you move, something will shatter.

And then you hear it.

“I’ll marry Irulan.”

His voice is calm. Detached.

Like he’s stating strategy.

Like he’s not carving a hole into your chest with every syllable.

You don’t wait to hear the rest.

You don’t want to see if he glances at you when he says it.

You don’t want to know if he meant for you to hear.

You turn. You leave.

You slip out beneath the heavy flap of the tent and into the open night like a breath escaping a dying body.

And then—

You run.

The wind hits you first — sharp and angry, dragging sand across your skin like claws.

The air is dry and violent, howling against the rocks like it’s furious on your behalf.

You trip slightly on the edge of a dune, catching yourself on your hands, the sand biting into your palms. But you don’t stop. You don’t even wipe the tears from your cheeks. They’re mixing with dust now — hot and salt-heavy and blinding.

Your robe whips around your legs as you move, the fabric catching in the wind like it wants to drag you backward, like even the desert is trying to stop you from leaving him.

Your feet sink into the loose sand, stumbling over ridges and stones. The land here is endless. Barren. Beautiful in its cruelty.

And still — you run.

Behind you, there’s a sound.

The tent flap slaps against the wind.

Then — boots pounding the sand.

And his voice, cutting through the storm:

“Wait—please.”

But you don’t.

Not when your lungs are burning. Not when your whole body is screaming don’t you dare look back.

Still, he chases you. Of course he does.

He always comes when it’s too late.

He reaches you just as your knees threaten to give out —

just as the wind reaches a new pitch, shrieking across the dunes like it’s trying to tear the world apart.

“Stop,” he says, breathless.

You spin to face him, eyes wild and rimmed with sand-smeared tears.

“You’re marrying her.”

It doesn’t come out soft. It tears itself out of your mouth like it doesn’t want to be held in anymore.

He blinks, caught. His mouth parts like he wants to lie — to reframe it — but he doesn’t.

“I have to,” he says instead. Quiet. Measured.

Like that makes it better.

Your laugh is sharp and broken. “No. You want to.”

He flinches. And you don’t let him look away.

“You already have power, Paul. You already won. You have the empire, the prophecy, the people. You didn’t need to do this.”

he takes a step towards you, carefull, like you're something fragile.

“I did it for the future.”

“No.” Your voice rises, the wind rushing in behind it. “You did it for control. You did it because the throne wasn’t enough. You want her bloodline, her name, her legacy. You want to own everything.”

Something dark flickers in his eyes — not anger, not quite. Something worse. Justification.

That horrible, steady confidence that only comes from believing your own myth.

“I didn’t understand what this path would take from me,” he says.

You take a step back, your foot slipping in the sand.

“Oh,” you breathe. “So you were naive. You were foolish when you said you loved me.”

His jaw tightens. “No.”

“Then what?” Your voice breaks, finally. “What was I?”

He doesn’t answer right away. The wind gusts, hard enough to make you stagger.

Then—his voice again.

Not loud. Not cruel.

Just certain.

"stay."

And this time it isn’t just a plea.

It’s the Voice.

It sinks into your bones, stilling you.

Your breath catches. Your legs freeze. You hate how easily it happens — how quickly your body obeys.

He steps closer, looking ruined. “Please. Don’t go.”

But you don’t look at him. You’re staring out at the horizon, at the endless expanse of sand that could take you anywhere but here.

And still — you stay. Because he told you to.

Because he made you.

And that’s worse than anything else.

.

Time passes.

Not in days or months. Not in anything you can count.

It passes in moments you don’t remember choosing.

You live in the royal wing now — carved in white stone, where the ceilings echo with silence and the floors are too polished to feel real beneath your feet.

They dress you in silk now. Gold bracelets that you don’t remember asking for. Perfume that clings to your skin like a name you forgot how to say.

You never ask questions.

You don’t need to.

He tells you when to speak. When to smile. When to follow.

And you do.

Because when he uses the Voice — that impossible, low timbre threaded with command — your body obeys before your heart can catch up.

Because that’s what you are now: a creature of response, not desire.

He’s never cruel to you. Not really.

He still touches your cheek sometimes like you’re precious. Still looks at you like there’s some version of you he remembers.

But it’s a hollow thing now. A memory of love pretending it’s still alive.

You sit beside him at court, quiet and lovely and always one word away from motion.

The princess sits on his other side — radiant and cold, untouched.

The world sees a golden throne, a perfect empire.

No one sees the ghost sitting just beneath it.

At night, you lie in silk sheets, facing away from him.

Sometimes he speaks your name softly, as if it might still mean something.

Sometimes he doesn’t speak at all.

And on the worst nights — the ones where you almost remember how to want something — he uses the Voice again.

“Stay.”

“Come here.”

“Don’t cry.”

And you don’t.

Because he tells you not to.

Timothée had been needy all day. I’d already let him fuck me three times today because it was his birthday. How he was still horny was beyond me. He’d begged me for a quickly in the car before going into his moms apartment and I’d refused. I told him we’d be late.

I was enjoying my time with Nicole and Timothée, but Timothée’s leg wouldn’t stop bouncing. I glanced down and one point and noticed the bulge evident in my boyfriends pants. I rolled my eyes.

“How are you still horny,” I muttered to Timothée as his mom went to get some wine.

“I don’t know, I just keep thinking about you, and your mouth, and your thighs, and your pussy, and fuck,” he shuddered.

“Your like a teenager,” I scoffed.

“I just can’t get enough of you,” he replied.

“As sweet as that is, we’re in your mom’s apartment,” I told him.

“We could do something,” he said, hope in his eyes.

“Like what Timmy, what would we even say? Sorry Nicole your son is a horn dog, I need to go take care of him?”

“No,” Timothée said. “Something a bit more sneaky than that.”

“Here we go,” Nicole came back in with the wine.

“Thanks mom,” Timothée said kindly. Under the table he guided my hand to his crotch. I nearly hissed at how hard he was. I couldn’t help but squeeze him ever so slightly. He sighed in relief.

I swirled my wine in my glass as I snuck my hand into his boxers. I began to pimp him up and down, and I heard him choke on his wine. I smirked.

“You alright Timothée?” Nicole asked.

“Splendid,” he coughed. My needy boy was thrusting up into my grasp every so slightly.

“So, what are you working on most these days?”

“Dune 2,” Timmy said. I swiped my thumb over his head, he let out a low whine.

“I am so sorry!” Nicole said suddenly. “I totally forgot, ugh, I have to put the finishes on dessert, I just got so caught up.”

“Nicole, it’s totally fine,” I said as I removed my hand from Timothée’s length. He sent me a scowl.

“No, I made it special, can you give me like fifteen minutes, less if I rush,” she said absentmindedly.

“That’s totally fine,” Timmy said, mischievous smile unfurling on his face. I knew what he was thinking.

“This is perfect,” he said when his mother left. “Pleaseeee, I’m the birthday boy.”

“Fine, I’ll blow you in the bathroom.”

“Score!” He cheered and pumped his fist.

“Seriously, teenager,” I rolled my eyes. We got up and went to the bathroom. He was practically giddy. He locked the door and I dropped to my knees.

I pulled him out of his confines and pumped him a couple times before taking him into my mouth. I went as far down his length as I could, and my nose hit his stomach. He was a mess, hands in my hair, moaning flowing out of his mouth.

I bobbed on his length, reaching up to massage his balls. He was panting, as he involuntarily jutted into my mouth, and apologized when I gagged.

It started to become very sexy to me as I watched him heaving. The fact that he’d had me three times today and still wanted me this bad. The way he was so weak for me, popping boners at the thought of me. How he was now a desperate mess from my mouth.

I reached down, putting my hand under my dress so I could get some relief. I moaned as I put pressure on my clit. Timothée just so happened to catch the movement.

“Hell no,” he growled and pushed me off his cock. It was dripping with my saliva.

“If my baby is horny, she gets taken care of,” he said quickly yanking me up off the floor. In three swift movements, my dress was pulled up, my panties pulled down, and his cock was sliding into me. He bottomed out with a moan.

“If my baby wants my cum, she gets my cum,” he said as he snapped his hips.

“How do you even have any cum left,” I moaned, head falling into the crook of his shoulder.

“I’ve always got cum for you.”

“How romantic,” I chuckled. He reached down to play with my clit as he pushed deeper inside me. He knew we had to finish up quickly. I could sense he was close. He always closed his eyes when the pleasure was too much, usually he was looking at me, unless he was going to cum.

“You want my cum?” He asked.

“Yes baby, give it to me,” I urged. He sped up his motion on my clit, meaning we came at the same time. He was spurting into me as I was processing my dizzying orgasm.

“Thank you baby,” he said, kissing me when he came down.

“I’ll go out first, how do I look?” He asked as he pulled up his pants.

“Well, unless you came here in lipstick, I should fix this,” I said, rubbing at his lips.

“Mmm,” he sighed. “I hope there’s a ring of it around my cock.”

“Timothée!” I slapped his chest lightly. “You just came and you’re still so dirty minded.”

He shrugged, and kissed my cheek before exiting. I fixed my hair and dress before I went out. Thankfully, Nicole was only just coming back with the delicious looking desert.

Timothée was looking smug and satisfied. The birthday boy had gotten his cake, and now he got to eat it too. I couldn’t help but feeling glad I’d made him happy. Even if I couldn’t look Nicole in the eyes at the moment.

“Have some,” she said cheerily, putting pieces on plates for Timothée and I. She watched her son take a bite, and smirked.

“Oh, and Timothée dear, if you’re going to do, THAT, in my apartment. I’d like a grandchild within the year.

“Okay okay I'm sorry. It won't happen again.” She laughs, Timothée huffs.

“It better not.” He says, leaning in and gently kissing her nose.

She giggles and stops recording, “Oh my god, you're so cute, babe.”

He raises an eyebrow and watches as she grabs her phone, “Wait, are we gonna try this?” He wonders, pouting a bit.

She smiles and looks up at him, “You still want to?”

“Of course! It looks good.” He shrugs, she chuckles and pats the chair for him to sit down.

Comments:

timmyslaurie thank god he didnt overreact

leesbones he said “your future husband” IM SO SINGLEEE 

~

“Babe.” 

“Hmm?” He looks away from the TV to her and smiles.

“Come over here and rank how mad you'd be if someone said this to me.” She says, sitting up from the couch as he goes over and sits down next to her. 

Timothée sighs and rests his head on her shoulder as she starts to record and the filter stops on the first one, ‘You have a pretty smile’ "It's true, but four.” He shakes his head and Y/n laughs at how irritated he's getting already. 

‘I feel safe with you.’ “Who's fucking saying this to you?” He grumbles, Y/n giggles and the camera shakes.

“Just like some guy at a bar or something, I dunno.” She shrugs, meeting his eyes as he quirks an eyebrow. 

“Well- where am I?” He wonders, scooting closer to her.

“Baby! I don't know, you went to the bathroom or something.” She laughs, "Now what number?” 

“Fucking… three!” She giggles and clicks her screen as the next one pops up. ‘I smile when I think of you’

“Fuck that. Two. Why is he thinking of you? Fucking…” 

She laughs at how annoyed he is, ‘You remind me of this song’ 

“That's fucking weird.. but like seven.” He mumbles, ‘I feel like I can tell you anything’ 

“Ugh.” He rolls his eyes, “Five.”

‘I love your natural hair’

“Oh that's fine, that's nice. Ten.” He nods, Y/n snorts at the mood change, and they continue.

‘You are gorgeous’

“It's true, but like what the fuck… Six? I'm- I'm waiting for one that's gonna be like just UGHHGG, y'know?”

“I do, I do.” She laughs

‘You don't look your age’

“Nine. It's true.” He nods.

“Only two spots left.” She hums.

‘I love your laugh’

“Eight. Your laugh is the best.”

“This last one is number oneee.” She says.

‘You smell so good’

“Yes the fuck it is.” He groans, “He shouldn't be close enough to even fucking say that.” 

Y/n laughs and ends the video, watching it back and posting it.

“I swear you do these to get me mad on purpose.” He chuckles, kissing her cheek.

She giggles and kisses him lightly, cuddling into him.

Comments-

rolemodelyn I LOVE JEALOUS BOYFRIENDS

timmyynchild the way his head was on her shoulder 🥺🥺🥺

filmyyn he was just mad the whole time i love it 

spideyyn why is the smile fourth but the laugh is eight ?

y/n idek tbh

~

“Hey baby, you wanna get wet today?” She asks him as she sets up a chair and pulls the hose out in their backyard.

He looks out from the porch and raises an eyebrow, “Like…” He smirks and she shakes her head, “Oh! Like water wet… not really, why my love?”

“Okay, just answer these questions right and you won't! Sit right here.” She pats the chair and he curiously sits down, watching as she sets up her phone. 

“Okay, all you have to do is tell me whether this is princess treatment or bare minimum in a relationship.” She says, gripping the hose.

“Um, okay… I think I get it.” He nods, eyeing the hose.

She giggles, “Okay, is opening the door for your girlfriend bare minimum or princess treatment?” 

“Bare minimum! I do that!” He exclaims, she laughs, and nods.

“Yes you do, okay, writing love letters.”

“There's no way that's bare minimum. Do you want me to do that?!” He wonders as she teasingly points the hose at him. 

“I mean, it would be nice. But yeah I put princess treatment.” She agrees and he laughs.

“I wouldn't mind a fucking love letter.” He mumbles, she snorts and continues on.

“Okay, tying my shoes… bare minimum or princess treatment?”

He ponders, “I do that, but… I'd say princess treatment.” He flinches as he waits for the water to hit him, but she just laughs.

“I agree, some might not but I don't expect you to always do that.” She replies and he nods, “I mean, don't stop, though.” He laughs at that and she continues, “Buying me flowers for no reason, bare minimum or-”

“That's bare minimum! Whenever I see any pretty flowers I'm immediately getting them for you.” He answers and she nods.

“You're so good at this, babe.” 

“I try my best.” He laughs, waiting for the next one.

“Paying for my nails?”

He hums, “I'd say… princess treatment?”

She groans, “Can you please get one wrong? I want to spray you!”

“Oh I'm sorry that I'm such a good boyfriend, baby!” He exclaims, she giggles and presses on the nozzle, spraying him with water for a second.

“Oops.” She shrugs and he laughs.

“You're lucky I love you.” 

She giggles and gives up on the video, posting it.

Comments-

ynsheadphone i hope yall find out you’re cousins 🙂

arrakisdune they’re so perfect together 😭😭 they agree on everything

wallowsyn telling myself this is ai for my mental health ty 🙏🏽🥰🥰

~

The next day, Timothée is lounging on the couch, reading a book when Y/n sits down on the floor in front of him and starts recording, “Hey guys! So a lot of you have been asking about the rules that my boyfriend has for me, so I'm just gonna list a couple of the main ones.” 

Timothée quirks an eyebrow and looks over at her for a second, but doesn't say anything as she continues.

“So the first rule is that I can't wear makeup if he's not going to be with me.” Timothée's head shoots back up at that, “He says I'm prettier with it on so-”

“That's not true!”

“So I can't look that pretty when he's not around, especially if there's going to be other guys around.”

“Bro what?!” 

She ignores him and continues, “The second rule is that I have to give him my phone at least once a month and he goes through it and blocks any man that he thinks I shouldn't follow or talk to-”

“Baby! That's literally fucking crazy!” He chuckles, sitting up and trying to meet her eyes but she keeps her stare on her phone.

“And that includes any male cousins or family members, if I'm not close with them I have to block them.”

He shakes his head and stands up, walking behind the couch and watching her, “Okayyyy! You're fucking with me.” 

“The next rule is that I can't cut my hair short because I'm a girl, and he thinks my long hair is sexy. Anything above my shoulders is too short-”

“That's not true-”

“The last one I wrote down was-”

“You wrote these down?!” 

“He tracks the food I eat, if I exceed a certain amount of calories in one day, a meal is deducted from the next day-”

“Oh don't forget to tell them that you also can't fucking breathe if I'm not there.” He teases, which breaks her, and she starts laughing. He chuckles and walks up behind her, pulling her towards his legs as she reaches for her phone. 

“How'd you think of those? Do guys actually do that?”

“Probably. Men are evil.” She sighs as she ends the video.

He bends down and kisses her head, “You're so funny.”

Comments-

womanyn “that’s not true-” the cut off every time im crying

lucyyn the way he admits to it… get out of there girl 😔😔

cinemayn why’d he let you keep going though 😭😭

y/n he knows better than to silence women

paulslee he keeps interrupting you omg… let us know if you need help

~

Later that night, they're eating dinner and watching a movie, and she secretly starts recording him before she asks her question.

“Hey baby?” She says, looking over at him as he bites his food.

“Yes, darling?” He hums, meeting her eyes as she prepares to ask him her question.

“Do you think I could be on the cover of Vogue?” She asks timidly, looking down at her plate so he thinks she's serious.

“Um yes, of course. Why, did they call you?!” He grins, putting his plate down and scooting closer to her.

She laughs and shakes her head, “No, but… do you think I'm pretty enough to be on the cover?”

Timothée teasingly rolls his eyes and nods, “You're kidding, right? You're like the most beautiful woman in the world, of course you could be on the cover.” 

Y/n finds herself blushing at his words and smiles, “Yeah?” 

He nods and leans forward and kisses her, her phone dropping to the floor, but neither of them cares.

“You can do anything you want, baby.” He says against her lips, she giggles and kisses him again.

“I love you.” She mumbles, he moves her plate out of the way, and hovers over her as he kisses down her neck.

“I love you way more.” 

Comments-

sexyyn IT'S THAT EASY

cinemyn “did they call you?” LMAOOOO AWWWW HES SO CUTE

ynssocks “the most beautiful woman in the world” so there are other women outside of the world that are prettier? wow…. Just wow.

y/n brb gonna break up with him

~

A couple of days later, she once again sneakily records him as they're lying down watching a movie and he's eating a snack. 

The plate is on his lap, right next to his phone, so she takes the opportunity to record yet another TikTok.

She sighs and reaches for his phone, to which he shoots away from her and quickly grabs his plate, “Bro! I literally asked you if you wanted any pizza rolls, and you said no!” He exclaims with a teasing tone.

She snorts and lets out a laugh as he guards the plate, holding it close to his chest.

“I just wanted to see your phone!” She giggles, he hums and leans back toward her, grabbing his phone from the cushion and handing it to her.

“What, you gotta Google something?” He wonders, “Where's yours at? Didn't you just have it?”

She shrugs and fakes looking around for it, “No, I just wanted to look through yours.”

He quirks an eyebrow at that, as they haven't really ever looked through each other's phones before. They know each other's passwords, but that's more for when one is driving and can't use it or something.

He shrugs, “Okay.” 

She giggles, “That's fine?” 

He bites into another pizza roll and nods, “Yeah? Why wouldn't it be?”

She chuckles, “I love you.” She leans over and kisses his cheek before grabbing her phone from where it was leaning against her leg to record.

“Oh my god! Another TikTok? What was even the point of that one?” He jokes, kissing her lips before she moves away again.

“To see if you were cheating, or had something to hide from me on it.”

“How could I possibly do better than you?” He laughs.

Her heart swells at that, and she stops recording.

Comments-

musicyn HE SAID HOW COULD HE DO BETTER THAN HER 😭😭😭😪😪😪

paultimmy and we're out here arguing about snap scores….

60syn he grabbed his plate so quick im cryingg

shawnmendes HAHAHAHAA 

sombryn mind you, he cheated on her.. not so funny now is it

pinkyyn they probably had this exact situation happen but it went so bad so quick 😭😭💀

~

Timothée is away filming when Y/n and her best friend Kate are having a sleepover, and she brings up another trend she saw going around.

“You should call Timmy and tell him goodnight.” She giggles as they lounge on the couch after eating takeout.

“Oh my god, those are so funny.” She laughs, “Does he even have my number?” 

Y/n thinks, “I dunno actually.. he has to, right? I've been with him for like six years, he probably has my best friend's number. I have his best friend's number!” 

The two laugh, and Y/n records as Kate starts to call him and puts it on speaker.

The call goes to voicemail, making the girls crack up, “He definitely doesn't have my number saved.” Kate giggles and calls again.

“Hello?” He answers after a couple of rings.

“Hey, Timmy. It's Kate.” She says, shutting her eyes to stop herself from laughing. Y/n covers her mouth to hide her little laughs.

“Kate who?”

“Kate, Y/n's best friend.” She says, feigning offense.

“Oh oh ohhhh! I'm sorry, it didn't click in my head ahaha.” He awkwardly laughs and Y/n's heart swells at how sweet he is.

“All good, I-”

“Yeah, what's up? Is y/n okay?” He asks, and Y/n whines at that, leaning in closer to Kate. “She had said you guys were gonna have a girls' night.”

“Oh yeah, yeah she's okay. That's happening tomorrow, looking forward to it.” She lies, looking at Y/n and raising an eyebrow. 

“Oh! I got my days mixed up aha… so why are you calling?”

“I just wanted to say goodnight.” She replies smoothly, Y/n snorts as there's no response. But her phone dings.

It's a text from Timothée. 

Maud’dib😍- yooooo Kate is calling me rn just to tell me goodnight… weird, right? 

“Um… you wanted to tell me goodnight?” He replies, Y/n points at her phone and mouths that he texted her.

Kate is quick, “Yeah. I-”

“Why?” Timothée is quicker.

“Well- why not?” 

“That's weird, man. I'm not someone you call to say goodnight to. You actually don't ever have to tell me goodnight, ever.”

Y/n covers her mouth in shock and nods her head. This is such a better reaction than she thought he would have. He's kind, but can be stern when necessary.

He's the one.

“Well, sorry that I care about you having a good night.” Kate fake scoffs, quietly laughing.

“That's just weird. If the roles were reversed right now, you know that'd be fucking weird.” 

“It doesn't have to be-”

“Nah nah nah. You're really gonna do Y/n like this? She would never do this to you, I- I'm not doing this-” He chuckles and then the line goes dead.

The girls burst out laughing and Y/n wipes her eyes, “That was crazyyyy. Dude, we gotta call him back-”

Y/n is cut off by her phone ringing, “Oh shit, it's Timothée!” She exhales before answering, “Hey baby, what's up?”

“Did you see my text?” He asks immediately. 

“Yeah, I was about to reply to it, but what do you mean?”

“I meannnnn that she fucking called me and told me goodnight and when I told her that it was weird, she tried to play it off as no big deal!” He exclaims, Y/n and Kate struggle to keep their laughs in.

“What? Why would she do that?”

“I have literally no fucking clue, I didn't even know it was her calling at first… baby, I would talk to her if I were you. You're having your girls' night tomorrow, see if she brings it up or something. Talk to her about it, please!” Y/n pouts at how frantic he's getting; he's been put through the ringer with these videos recently.

“Okay, baby- Timothée, I'm sorry.” She says, not wanting to keep it going any longer.

“Why are you apologizing?” 

She whines at his words, “Because this was all a joke, baby. It was for a tiktok!” She admits and hears him sigh over the phone. 

“Babe… thank fucking god! So your girls night was today!” He exclaims, she giggles.

“Yes it was tonight, Kate is right here next to me.” 

Kate leans over to speak, “Hi Timmy! I'm sorry, it was definitely one of the weirdest moments of my life!”

“Of yours? Imagine how I felt!” He replies, “Oh my godddd, I was literally thinking like ‘this girl is insaneeee’ ahaha. Soooo fucking uncomfortable.” 

“I can't believe you texted me while still on the phone with her.” Y/n laughs.

“I- yeah, of course! If I didn't then there'd be a problem.” He chuckles, “Okay baby, I gotta get some sleep. Goodnight my love.” 

Y/n pouts, “Goodnight Timmy, I love you.”

“I love you more.”

“Yeah, goodnight Timothée!” Kate jokes, Y/n laughs and playfully shoves her.

“Very funny girls, have fun. I'll call you tomorrow, baby!” 

“Okay, darling.” She smiles and they hang up. “Ugh, I miss him.” She sighs, leaning back against the couch as Kate goes to hug her.

“You guys are adorable, it's disgusting.” 

Y/n frowns and hugs Kate back.

Comments-

sallyyn SEE FELLAS IS THIS SO HARD ?!?!?! 

marvelyn brooo he was so mad 😭😭💀 he was ready to call yn right after and tell her LOL

timmysgrandchild he was soooo quick to shut that down ughhhhh I love him.

y/n me too bro, me too!

tchalamet literally the most uncomfortable moment of my life… and I've had to ride sandworms in the desert.

     y/n i love youuuuuu

But as he follows Stilgar into the sietch he can’t even be bothered with the glares and sideways glances from the Freman because the further they walk the more his senses are hit with an overwhelmingly saccharine smell. It was like someone was baking the finest pastry mixed with a warm milk bath on a cold winter's day. He had only ever smelled something as sweet as this in his dreams. A scent he’s dreamed of so vividly that it lingered in his nostrils when he woke, but he’s never caught a whiff of it in waking hours until now. There was no doubt in his mind that this is the same scent. The scent that’s haunted him every night since he presented. The scent of his omega, his destined mate.

“I can hear and smell you scenting back there, Paul Atreides… I suggest you get your pheromones under control before we enter.” Stilgar looks back at him with an apprehensive look and Paul apologizes nodding in agreement. “Mating is a very sacred thing to my people. Each pair must be approved and blessed by the high priestess. And all unmated omegas rooms are on the opposite side of the alphas. It is very important that you follow all rules, but especially this one. Do you understand?”

“Yeah, I understand.” He understood the rule but does that mean he was going to follow it? He could certainly try. But that scent was intoxicating and the closer they got to the sietch the stronger it got. He knows given the chance, he’d break that rule in an instant. Consequences be damned.

“Many wait for their soul bound mate and majority of them die alone, never finding the one.” Paul found this odd. Soul bounds are few and far between nowadays and he comes from a place where mating is a transaction, a bargain, something of power and not of love. But as that sugary sweet scent swirls around him, almost making him dizzy, he thinks he might understand wanting to wait for your one. It’s been a few years now since he presented and no omega has ever smelled even remotely appealing to him. They either smelled of nothing or downright revolting, his only reprieve was in his dreams. His dreams filled with that sugary smell and the figure of a woman whose face he could never quite make out.

When Stilgar pulled his mother aside Paul found himself alone in a room filled with stares. Some looked at him in awe, certain he was their long awaited Maud’Dib. Others looked at him with disdain, snickering to each other as they shamelessly pointed his way. But he honestly wasn’t concerned with any of it, because as he sat against the stony wall the scent was stronger than ever. He could almost taste it. His eyes searched the room, craving nothing more than to put a face to the smell that has nearly become his drug. But as he looked across the various faces surrounding him, no one stuck out to him.

But he was certain she was in this room, if not this one than the next. That warm saccharine scent was so close it was as if it were right next to him. That’s when he feels a tap on his shoulder, causing him to jump. Either this person was stealthy or he was so lost in thought he didn’t hear them approaching but when his head whips around to see who it is he feels like his heart is going to burst. He hears the sound of bells ringing, a sound that he’s only heard in the churches back home. There standing over him is the most ethereal woman he’s ever seen, beautiful, perfect, sweet smelling, you.

“Hello, Paul Atreides, I’ve been waiting for you.” You smile down at him sweetly, your eyes filled with adoration. You aren’t dressed like the Fremen, no tans or browns or stillsuit to be found. A black silky dress adorns your form, fitting you perfectly. There’s a sheer midnight colored scarf wrapped around your head and shoulders, framing your face like the greatest work of art. You weren’t Fremen. You were a Bene Gesserit. Or at the very least, one in training.

“I think… I’ve been waiting for you too.” Paul’s voice is trance-like, looking up at you like you hung all the stars in the sky. The sound of the voice you’ve heard so many times in your slumber sending chills down your spine.

“Won’t you come with me? I have so much to tell you.” You look at him eagerly, offering him your danity ringed hand.

“I don’t know if I’m… supposed to…” He wants nothing more than to follow you. He would follow you into one of the suns of Arakkis if you asked him to. But he knew he was already on thin ice here and he feared what would happen to him and his mother if he were to upset anyone further.

“Do not bother with them, they will see the way. They will see what I’ve seen. Soon they will be cheering your name. Come.”

Paul scans the room, all eyes are on the two of you but when he looks back at your reassuring smile it’s like no one else matters, no one else exists. He takes your hand, letting you pull him along through hallways and far away from prying eyes. You drag him into a room that he assumes is yours, shutting the door behind you.

“Have you dreamt of me, Paul?” You sit on the bed and pull the scarf from your head, leaning back on your palms. You look so beautiful and the room is engulfed in your scent. It clings to every inch of the space and radiates off of you in waves.

“Yes… have you dreamt of me?” He takes an apprehensive step toward you, leaving a few feet of distance between the two of you. His green eyes feel as if they’re eating you alive and the scent of him causes slick to rush into your panties.

“Yes, every night since I presented as an omega my dreams have been filled with nothing but you. And more recently I’ve had visions of you in my waking hours. Will you tell me, Paul, about your dreams?” Your voice is as sweet as your scent. The way you’re leaning back on your hands makes the silk of your dress taunt against your breasts, your peaked nipples on display. The sight of you and the unmistakable smell of your slick makes his cock stir in his pants.

“They aren’t very vivid… mostly just flashes of you from behind, the sound of your voice, you were always saying ‘come to me Paul, for I am your destiny’ but your scent? That was so clear to me.” He takes another step forward, reaching a hand out as if he’s going to touch you but he lets it fall to his side, like he thought better of it. “I didn’t know it was possible to have a sense of smell in your dreams, but night after night I was surrounded by your scent as I slept.”

“I could smell you as well and I smelled you the minute you arrived. But my dreams are much more detailed than yours. There is much you do not know.” You approach him, closing the small distance between you. You rest your hands on his chest, looking up at him with hooded eyes. “Would you like me to tell you about them?”

“I’d love nothing more, omega.” His thumb gently caresses the apple of your cheek before traveling down to push some of your hair off your shoulder. He’s looking down at you expectantly, eagerly waiting for you to speak.

“Your dreams are correct, I am your destiny, and you are mine. I can feel the doubt in your heart, feel that you do not believe in yourself, do not believe that you are the Maud’Dib but you are, sweet Paul. For I have seen it.”

“Tell me? What have you seen?” He searches your eyes for signs of doubt or deceit but all he sees is truth there. Truth and the same adoring look you gave him when he first saw you.

“I’ve seen you learning the ways of the Fremen. I’ve seen you move them, rally them. I’ve seen a battle in which you win. I’ve seen you upon the emperor's throne, ruling over all, with me by your side, our child in my arms.” Your hands travel from his chest to take his face in your soft palms where you rub soothing circles on his temples.

“You saw… all of that?” Paul’s voice sounded exasperated, like what you’ve told him took all the breath from his lungs. He feels like it has. The finality and bluntness in which you speak tell him that your words are true.

“Yes, and more. There will be plenty of time to tell you about it all. But right now? I need you.” Right as the words leave your mouth a gush of slick drips down your legs. The presence of your mate triggering your heat weeks early.

“Tell me what you need, omega.” His voice drops an octave, taking on that deep alpha tone. It makes your heart speed up as another gush of slick drips from your core. You can’t help but think what it would be like if he used The Voice on you. Regularless of how absolutely blasphemous that would be considered.

“I need you, alpha. I need your cock. I need you to fill me up and lock your seed inside me with your knot.” Paul lets out a growl before reaching out, one hand gripping onto your hip to pull you flush against him and the other going to the back of your neck so he could connect his lips with your own.

The kiss starts off rough, eager, and hungry. But after a few moments his lips become tender against your own, his fingers threading through your hair as his tongue swipes across your bottom lip. You grant him access, immediately intertwining his tongue with your own, moaning at the taste of him.

“I’ll give you whatever you want, my moon. Ask for it and it is yours.” He kisses down your jaw to your throat where he runs the tip of his nose along your scent gland, inhaling deeply. “You wish for me to make love to you? Then I shall.”

Paul pushes the thin straps of your satin dress down your shoulders, kissing along the column of your throat, your collar bones, across your shoulders. You drop your arms so the straps fall the rest of the way down, the dress slipping down your body with them. Leaving you bare before him aside from the thin black material of your panties.

“Absolutely beautiful, angelic.” He runs the back of his hand down your cheek, your jaw, your neck, all the way down until his back knuckles are caressing the tender peaks of your nipples. He slides it across your chest, giving the other the same treatment before taking both of your tits in his hands. He gently squeezes them, pinching your hardened nipples between his fingers, eliciting little whimpers from you.

“I heard your mother has been teaching you our ways. How is your training?” Paul raises an eyebrow at you, certainly wondering why you’re asking him about that at a time like this. “I only ask because I was wondering if you might want to practice on me.”

“Do you mean…?” He looks at you with wide eyes and you smirk, biting your lip.

“That’s exactly what I mean. I can feel your apprehension, don’t be afraid, I want this.” You lean into him, smashing his hands that are still on your chest between your bodies as you lean up to you run your nose along his scent gland, darting your tongue out to taste the sweat and spice that coat his skin. He grabs onto your shoulders, pushing you back so he can look in your eyes, searching for any signs of doubt. But as every other time he’s looked in your eyes tonight, he’s seen nothing but honesty there. Nothing but truth.

“Get on the bed on your back. Spread your legs.” Your body immediately reacts, doing exactly as he asks. Paul approaches the foot of the bed, standing between your spread legs. “That’s a good girl.”

His hands grip onto your knees, pushing your legs further apart, leaning down to shove his face between your legs. His nose runs along the soaked material of your panties, deeply inhaling the sugary sweet smell of your slick.

“Alpha, please.”

“You do not have to beg, my moon. I’m going to give you exactly what you want.” Paul smirks up at you before lacing his fingers into the band of your panties and ripping them in half. He runs his tongue up your slit, circling it around your sensitive clit. The feeling of his hot wet mouth has you coming undone instantly, your slick gushing all over his chin and down his neck where it drips onto his shirt. He moans at the taste, sweeter than anything that’s ever graced his taste buds. “Yes, that’s my good little omega, give it all to me, let me drink in your sweet nectar.”

He dives back in, shoving his tongue as deep into your pussy as it can go, fucking you with it. His lips come up to wrap around your clit while his fingers circle your dripping entrance. He runs his fingers through your folds before shoving them knuckle deep inside of you.

“Oh fuck! I’m going to cum again, I’m gonna cum.” You move your hips against his face as he curls his fingers against your sweet spot, your legs clamp around his head and your entire body shakes as your high washes over you. Paul pushes himself up from the bed, ridding himself of his clothes before climbing back over to you, situating himself on top of you with his hands on either side of your head. His hard cock is resting against your lower stomach, the tip leaking precum onto your skin.

“I want to taste you too.” You run your fingers through his hair, pushing it out of his face. You didn’t even care that the ache between your legs wouldn’t be satiated until he was inside you, you needed to taste him.

“Next time. I need to be inside you now.” It comes out a soft whisper, his forehead resting against your own. He reaches between your bodies, taking his cock in his hand and lining it up with your entrance. He connects his lips with your own, kissing you passionately as he begins to push inside you. You both moan as he bottoms out, his hips flush against your own. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, slipping your tongue into his mouth as his thrusts begin to pick up.

“Mmm you feel amazing, my love, my lord, my emperor.” Paul looks into your eyes as he continues to fuck you at a linguid pace, rolling his hips against your own as he pushes himself as deep inside you as possible.

“My moon, my destiny.” He picks up the pace, pushing up on his knees and wrapping your legs around his hips. Your tits jiggle with every thrust, the fucked out love sick gaze that you send his way makes his skin even hotter.

“I want you to fill me up, alpha. Fill me with your cum. Put a pup in me. So we can fulfill our prophecy.” Paul snakes a hand between the two of you, connecting his thumb with your clit so he can rub circles on it in time with his thrusts.

“Open your mouth.” The sound of him using The Voice makes your walls clench around him, your jaw dropping open at his command. He leans down, letting the spit that had collected in his mouth drip down into your tongue. “Swallow it.”

You swallow with an audible gulp. Your heart warming at the gesture that anywhere else would be considered lewd but here on Arakkis to share one’s sacred spit with another was a grand gesture of love.

“Thank you, my love. You taste better than the finest feast. I cannot wait to know what your cum tastes like.” Paul groans at that, his eyes rolling in the back of his head. His thrusts start to grow sloppy but he refuses to finish before you do.

“Cum for me.” As soon as the words leave his mouth your walls are convulsing around him, sucking him as your slick soaks his cock.

“Mark me, Paul. Sink your teeth into my flesh and bind us together as we are meant to be.” You tug on his arms, pulling his upper half so it’s draped over you, his face buried in your neck. His thrusts become slow and deep again, his cock hitting that perfect spot inside you.

“But Stilgar said…” He groans, using every ounce of strength in his body to not just sink his teeth into your soft neck.

“I do not care what Stilgar said. This is bigger than him. Bigger than all of them. Mark me.” His mouth moves before his mind can process what’s happening, his teeth sinking deep into your flesh, breaking the skin. The feeling is like nothing you’ve ever felt. Electricity washes through your body, the most world altering orgasm of your life wracks through you, and you feel like your soul leaves you, connecting with Paul’s before returning to your earthly vessel. He pushes his hips flush against yours, ropes of his cum spilling inside you.

“Oh fucking shit.” Paul groans, pulling his mouth from your neck, gliding his tongue over the indents of his teeth. He leans back to look at you, eyes roaming your face. His knot swells inside of you and a look of pain crosses your features before turning into one of ecstasy. Loud moans leave your lips as your final orgasm of the night washes over you. Paul leans down, connecting his lips with yours, kissing you like it’s the last thing he will ever do. Though it was far from it.

“I hope you are not upset with me, Maud’Dib.” You take his face in your hands, running the top of your nose along his cheek.

“I don’t think I could ever be upset with you, my love. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t turn me on when you used The Voice on me…” he chuckles, resting his forehead against your own. “I am so happy I finally found you…”

“You have me now, until the day I take my last breath I will belong to you, Paul Atreides. Together, we will accomplish great things.”

Paul's soft, low voice slices through the silence of the dusk, the only words you hear before you feel his warm, firm arms slipping under your arms and around your middle, pulling you into his front in a smooth, protective motion. His chocolate brown locks tickle your neck and cheek as he gazes up at you from your shoulder; wandering, curious eyes study yours knowingly, his natural hues tainted blue with the Spice.

"What troubles you?"

You hesitate in your response, unsure of the right thing to say. There's no point in lying, not to him, to a boy who could easily use the power of his Voice to make you tell him everything and anything with just a few words. He's done it to the Bene Gesserit, to those who speak out of turn and challenge him cluelessly, but never to you. And something tells you that he never will.

"I'm sorry," is how you answer instead, in a small whisper, trying to read his expression before his reaction.

But all Paul does is give you one of his soft, amused smirks, a brow raising slightly, unconvinced.

"Don't apologise to anyone for anything," he murmurs, his fingers drifting to lock with yours, his hand hot and strong in yours. "We are to be wed, you and I, soon. So what troubles you?"

"It's not you," you tell him as earnestly as you can, his eyes capturing yours and holding them as you blink up at him. "I'm just... nervous."

"Nervous?" Paul repeats gently, his hands squeezing yours for a moment, his face an inch away from yours. "What have you to be nervous about?" He grins slightly, not attempting to hide his teasing amusement. "A wedding?"

You can't help but smile at his tone, savouring the unguarded moments of the new, young Emperor, his boyish traits lingering beneath the newfound power and promises passed down to him.

You were nervous, because you weren't so familiar with destiny and its quirks, and yet, Paul Atreides seemed to be its master. Nervous, because although there was a strange pull between you and him, a deeper part of you somehow knowing him, at an instinctive ease with him, you had never met him before these past few days, and now, you were going to be joined together for time indefinite by marriage. Nervous, because he didn't just want you to rule with him, but alongside him, as a partner, a second part of him. His second half who's with him in soul, not just spirit, physically, not just mentally. And he's relishing in it.

"I've never had one before," you shake your head with a light smile, "I don't know what to expect. Or what's expected of me."

Paul hums to himself at your reply, pausing for a while as he thinks over his words.

"It isn't just a wedding," he tells you quietly, "it's so much more. This... this a beginning. A new dawn."

"Beginning?" You echo in bemusement, looking up at him in wonder. "Of what?"

"Of a new era," Paul says thoughtfully, his hands moving from yours to run over and down your sides, tracing over your figure absentmindedly, a gesture that makes you hold your breath for a beat as you watch him, "the first of many. You are more than a mere future. You're the future. My future. And the future of my people."

The sincerity and conviction in his voice makes you stare back at him in slight awe, taken by his certainty of what he's seen in the deepest stretches of his mind, the flickering images of you, adorned in all your natural beauty and grace that he could find nothing short of perfect. You were a fantasy and a hope materialised. Someone he'd wished and dreamed for so much, that you came true, just as you should have.

"Anything that happens to you," Paul continues, looking you straight in the eye as he speaks, "happens to me. You have always been mine, and I was yours before then. Absolutely and completely."

And his words make a home in your head, everything he says so poetic and beautifully surreal, but so honest and unwaveringly confident. He didn't need to practise what he said before he whispered the sweet words in your ear, in a voice only you could catch, in the long, warm nights on Arrakis. There was no need for practice. He had been made for this, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

You let yourself relax slightly in his grips, giving him an earnest smile. "That sounds nice."

Paul smiles back at you, a bright, sweet smile that makes him seem so soft and normal, almost forgetting for a moment of his utter strength and glory over the planets, his dangerous darkness that he occasionally allowed to rule over his actions at the tensest of times, until those who stood up against him retreated in bewilderment and fascination and fear.

"It does," he agrees, his gaze dropping to look out at the dunes beyond you, "you can't imagine..."

You couldn't. But every part of you wanted to. And those parts won.

"Won't you tell me?"

Paul's attention shifts back to you after you speak, before you can stop yourself.

"Would it be kind to tell you?" He asks aloud, speaking half to himself as his eyes go to search yours again, studying every inch of you, almost unsettlingly intently.

"Do you dream?" Paul questions you softly, and you dither before shaking your head.

"Not like you do," you answer steadily.

"Like I do. Seeing your face amidst the streaks of sunbeams and every kind of ethereal power that could create wonders, planets, worlds. Waking up, and you're not here, though it felt so real," he goes on, his voice laced with longing, as if it pained him to remember the feeling. "Realer than I've ever felt anything before. Every sense in me was awakened, because with destiny, I saw hope. And I did not know that hope could be so.... beautifully... angelic."

Paul draws closer and closer with each word, pulled by invisible strings to rest his forehead against yours, closing his eyes for a long moment to breathe, breathe you in. The sight of it is almost dizzyingly hypnotic, staring at the little scattered freckles over his fair, lightly tanned skin, cheeks flushed golden. He moves his face to rub his cheek against yours, seeking out affection in an irresistible rare, vulnerable move. Your hand reaches up to brush your fingers against it, and he takes it in his immediately, pressing his lips against your fingertips as he speaks.

"I need you," Paul insists, his voice firm and pressing again as he stares at you with a spark of desperation. "I need only you. More than you can comprehend. By my side, always, where you belong."

"I'm right here," you reply a little giddily, looking away from his eyes slightly bashfully from the intensity and unbridled longing of his gaze. "I suppose I'm just not used to this."

"To what?" Paul questions, his fingers tilting your chin up softly to force your eyes back up to his, his face a little closer than before. "To being an Empress?"

Before you can respond, he's pushed himself closer over you, his warm, damp lips sliding and pressing against yours and parting to encourage you to deepen his affections. It sends hot shockwaves rushing straight through your blood, as Paul crouches over you, all patience and purpose forgotten in the moment where it's just the two of you in the calm, lingering desert night.

You fit together perfectly, too perfectly for his words to be untrue, and his head tilts keenly where your fingers skim his neck, his lips parting from yours as they tangle in his hair with a short gasp. He loses none of his confidence and persistence, his azure blue eyes a shade darker as he watches you with an open trace of adoration.

"A queen?"

"Paul," you start shakily, as he smirks at you fondly, his head ducking to trace his tongue briefly up the skin of your neck, with a faint chuckle.

"To being desired?"

You glare at him weakly, hanging onto his hands tight to find some sense of grounding. "You're just playing with me."

"I intend to do so much more than that," Paul grins at you, kissing your cheek before burying his face against your shoulder. "And so should you. Test the depths of our connection. Push it to its limits. Push me. Please."

You find yourself speechless again at his way with words, simple and truthful, but full of passion and unthought romance, a sensation he's been craving since the first shadows of your being in his hazy dreams and visions.

"Give into your destiny, sweet girl," he croons to you in a whisper, his lips brushing against yours and pressing down against your skin needily, hungrily. It takes almost inhumane strength not to crumble and shiver under his touch and desire radiating off him and his dark glare, the wanting over years of dreams and prophecies building up to its peak. "Give into me."

"I think I will," you whisper back in awe and giddiness, your arms having to hold tightly around his neck to stay upright. "I think I want to."

"That's good," he praises you with a soft smile, as his voice lowers. "And besides," Paul mutters in your ear, nuzzling against your cheek breathlessly, with that subtle, teasing look in his eyes, "I plan on taking you as mine well before the wedding."

══════════════⊹⊱≼ fin ≽⊰⊹══════════════

The boy had arrived a couple of weeks ago to turn the world of everyone present in the laundry upside down and, honestly, you were already beginning to enjoy his presence. You looked in the background at the blackboard that Noodle used at night to give him lessons in the hope that he would learn to read because, according to the girl's words, because of that he was almost eaten by a tiger. But in the man's words, what was important was the almost part. 

However, tonight he had asked you especially to go to his room, because he had a problem that he thought only you could solve.

“I think so, I just have to pass the needle a couple of times” you smiled.

Since your arrival Mrs. Scrubbit had used your sewing skills for her own benefit, because after all you had ended up in that mess trying to save a little to be able to buy the necessary materials to make a pretty dress that would be worth enough to advance in the business. Although, obviously, that had not been possible.

"Thank you! I'm afraid that's my only jacket."

“It will be ready in no time. I’ll just go to my room and come back, okay?” you said kindly, placing the garment in the boy's lap and earning a sweet smile from the aforementioned.

Just as Willy had his little briefcase for his chocolates, you had your own, full of threads, needles, and buttons, which you just had to grab from the floor to get everything you needed. When you arrived back you settled at the little table and he remained attentive to your every movement, pulling out a chair so he could observe what you were about to do.

“There was a boy on the ship who helped me with these things,” he began to tell you, keeping his curious nose on your shoulder “But I never thought about learning. You know, for when I had to be alone”

“Well, it's lucky you ended up here. We are a curious collection of workers,” you murmured ironically, referring to all the people gathered there against their will by the work of fate "What did you do on the ship?"

"Cook. Mostly sweet things, but I also know a couple of useful non-chocolate-related recipes. I was the chef,” he said, and you laughed at the exaggerated way he pronounced the last bit.

Willy began to tell you about some of the adventures he had had on the high seas and you listened attentively as the tip of the needle went in and out to join the fabric. It only took a few minutes to get his clothes looking like new, taking the liberty of repairing other places that also needed it.

“Put it on,” you asked, trying not to look at him too much when he did so or pay attention to the way the jacket fit him perfectly.

"It is perfect! You can't even tell it was torn, huh?” he said with emotion, feeling with his hands as much as he could. “How much do I owe you?”

“Oh, it's nothing.”

“I insist,” the man murmured. His curly hair bounced across his cheeks as he sat next to you and he lifted his small briefcase off the floor, opening it to reveal all the little bottles of ingredients. “Your talent for mine. It's a fair exchange."

You had to admit that the chocolates you had eaten were a complete delicacy, but a part of you didn't want to get used to that luxury or you knew that when Willy was gone you would miss his sweetness. In the literal and figurative sense.

Locked in that laundry it was impossible to meet many people your age and Noodle was your greatest company, as if he were a little sister to you. But now that he was there, there was a certain happiness in chatting with him, much more now that his ingenious mind had devised a way to get you out of there even if it was just for a few hours to see the light of day and get coins from the sale of the chocolates to free you of the enormous debt to Mrs. Scrubbit.

“What flavor do you want to try today? Do you want me to add some unicorn skin glitter? Rays of sunlight from a twilight on the seashore? Tears of an African crocodile?”

“Just give me something you think I need,” you replied softly.

Willy thought about it for a moment, because it wasn't the kind of answer he would have expected. What was he supposed to give you that night? A little hope? Happiness? Nostalgia? It was difficult to decide.

Through his bright eyes you watched him reflect and just a second later his hands began to work. You noticed there was a hint of mischief in his smile as he poured milk, chocolate, and the contents of a couple of jars into the processor, glancing at you from the corner of his eye from time to time.

“What are you going to do when we get out of here?” he asked suddenly, not neglecting the tasks.

“Working in a sewing workshop, I guess.”

“Why don't you open your own fashion house?” Willy suggested carefreely, as if it were a very easy thing to do, “You are a great dressmaker.”

“And you are a great dreamer”

“It's my best quality,” he exclaimed, almost offended. You waited a moment before answering.

“I just don't think it's that simple. It requires effort, time, and a lot of money…”

“We will have everything,” he interrupted you, with that optimism that characterized him. Suddenly he stopped what he was doing and one of his hands traveled to take yours. “When I open my factory, we will all be able to fulfill our dreams. And you are going to have a fashion house, I promise you.”

“You make a lot of promises,” you responded, blushing.

“And he planned to fulfill them all. I always do it"

Maybe there was something about the softness of his grip on your hand or perhaps the sparkle in his eyes that made you look away out of sheer nervousness. He seemed to be good and innocent, to the point that he probably didn't even realize how close he was to you or how inappropriate the position would be if Noodle ever walked in.

A tap interrupted your moment and then he abruptly pulled away, excited to show you the product he had just made. It was a pretty circular candy that was bright pink and seemed to be emanating smoke from the inside.

"What's that?"

“You'll have to try it to find out,” he murmured, as he extended the treat in your direction.

You had to admit that you were somewhat curious to discover what the man was offering you, so you took it between your fingers carefully, and even under his watchful gaze you took a bite.

At first it tasted like ordinary chocolate, but then it took on a strange tone, which made you feel a certain warmth in your chest that spread to your cheeks. It was a most pleasant feeling, like bubbly joy combined with the embarrassment of a hug.

You thought for a moment about what flavor that could be, without any success, until after a few seconds you realized that it wasn’t a flavor in itself, but a feeling, an experience... Was it love that Willy had given you?

“How does it taste?”

“Yummy,” you responded, covering your mouth so he wouldn’t see the wet chocolate on your tongue, but also to hide your smile “Delicious, actually. What does it contain?”

“A special and secret ingredient”

"Oh, come on! Aren’t you going to tell me?”

“I just want to know if I got it right,” he murmured and you frowned slightly, not understanding him “About what you asked for. Did I give you something you needed?”

You had to bite your lip to keep from smiling again, your cheeks feeling hot from the simple fact that he was looking at you. You thought that this could even be a love potion that you had consumed without thinking about it, just because he was the one who was offering it to you.

“We could say yes”

“We're even, then,” he exclaimed as he waved the sleeve of his jacket and you nodded in amusement, eating the rest of the chocolate he had made for you.

A yawn leaving your lips made you aware of how exhausted you were and although you didn't love the idea, you knew it was time to leave.

“It's late, I should go to sleep before we wake anyone up.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” Willy said quickly, getting up from his seat to accompany you to the exit. “I'll see you tomorrow.”

“Rest,” you said kindly, and, gathering courage, you leaned forward a little to say goodbye with a hug that he gladly returned.