#Timothée Chalamet fanfic

[babyflorencee]

Stop taking your hands out of mine

Timothée Chalamet x fem!Reader

'Boys don't cry' by The Cure played silently from the beat-up speaker that was sitting on top of my desk. I was sitting down on my bed with my boyfriend Timothée, who was laying down in between my legs, holding up the book 'The Body' by Stephen King as we read it together. One of his hands was flipping through the pages while the other was enlaced with mine. Timothée and I started dating a little more than four months ago, and ever since we made it official, he has been at my house almost every day. And quite frankly, I'm almost positive that he's at my house more than his own. But I honestly didn't care. I enjoyed his company more than anything.

One word everyone uses to describe our relationship is 'perfect'. We rarely fought and when we did, it was always a petty argument like, 'which cookie is best.' Everyone who has seen us together, all say we are "a match made from heaven," which makes me happy knowing people liked me and Timothée together.

We read a few more pages until I heard Timothée sigh rather loudly, as he closed the book and flipping over so that his face was nuzzling into my neck. I took my hand out of his, brushing some loose strands of his long brown hair out of his eyes. He let out a whinny groan, taking my hand back into his.

After a few minutes, he started to close his eyes, pressing little kisses all over my neck and jaw, making butterflies erupt in my stomach. I let out a yawn, looking down at Timothée. Seeing him peacefully sleeping started to make me tired. I took my hand out of his for the second time, now closing my eyes. I was almost asleep when I felt him jab his index finger into my side, waking me up. I opened my eyes, seeing Timothée with a very unhappy, almost annoyed expression. "Stop taking your hand out of mine," he said with a pouting face. He rolled his eyes, taking my hand back in his, except this time he held it tight.

"Sorry," I whispered, closing my eyes once again.

After a while of silence, I assumed he was sleeping until he spoke up. "I love you," he said, but because his head was buried in the crook of my neck, it came out muffled.

"I love you too," I said, with a smile plastered on my face before wrapping my legs around his waist, pulling him closer to me, and resting one of my hands on the top of his head, lightly holding his face close to my chest.

"Night babe," I whispered, repeatedly kissing his hair, as he just quietly hums.

[kteezy997]

You’re So Breedable//T.C. (one-shot)

Information: you’re a housewife and Timmy is your hardworking accountant husband who’s been stuck working overtime a lot lately.

Warnings: smut, a bit of a breeding kink obviously, dirty talk, cursing, finger sucking, cumshot

Timmy was working over time again tonight. He had called your home phone to let you know he would be a couple of hours late. You were so proud of him working so hard to provide for you and your future family, but you couldn’t help but miss being able to spend time with him in the evenings.

You had already finished dinner when he called, so you decided to keep it warm in the oven while you whipped up something for dessert. You decided to bake some apple turnover pastries with a cinnamon icing drizzle over the top.

The turnovers had just come out of the oven, looking golden in the outside and super tasty and you were drizzling the icing on, admiring the brown flecks of cinnamon in the creamy sweetness. You heard the front door of your home open and close and you smiled to yourself as you heard your husband’s footsteps come closer and closer to the kitchen.

“It smells amazing in here.” Timmy said, touching your waist and leaning in to kiss your neck.

The stubble on his upper lip tickled your skin. He had only just begun growing his mustache, so you were still not accustomed to the feeling. “Welcome home, my love.” you cooed.

“Awe, you made turnovers? You’re the best, baby.” he smooched your cheek, wrapping his arms around you.

“Yep, and there’s pot roast ready in the oven. Let me set the table really quick and we can eat.” you peck his cheek, tapping his jaw lightly as you attempted to move away from his grip, but he held you in place.

“Whoa, where do you think you’re going?” he smirked.

“Timothée Hal, I have to get the plates for our dinner.” you insisted.

“Dinner can wait,” he eyes scanned down your body, “I need you now.”

“Timmy…” you squinted your eyes at him and shook your head.

“You know, I was just thinking at working today, “why haven’t I put a baby in my wife yet?” And I didn’t have an answer.”

“But honey, you’re away from home all the time. Wouldn’t you want to wait until you’re not needed at work so much?”

Timmy came to you, putting his hands into your lower back, closing the gap between your bodies. “All of this over time has been worth it, my love. They’ve given me my own office now, and I’ll only work nine to five and Monday through Friday only. It’s perfect. And they’ve given me a pay raise, so I’ll be able to provide for three of us, or four, if we wanted.” He smiled proudly, eyeing your lips for a brief moment.

You blushed, thinking about two little Timothées running around your home, thinking about how hard your husband had been working the last two years you had been married to provide for your family. “Oh, Timmy, I love you and I’m so proud of you.” you beamed, hugging him.

He squeezed you back in a warm embrace, nuzzling into your neck, inhaling your scent. “Mm, you smell amazing. Like cinnamon.” he cooed, his voice low, vibrating against your skin.

You giggled as you felt his lips on the tender spot of your neck.

“You’re so breedable.” he groaned just before picking you up off the ground, tossing you over his shoulder with your bum in the air.

You yelped, laughing, “Timmy, what about dinner?”

“We can warm it back up afterwards.”

……

He tossed you onto the bed.

You put your hands out on either side of you, propped up as you sat watching him undress.

He wore a pale blue button down shirt, that he had undone and exposed his white tank top underneath. His gold necklace shimmered in the bedroom light.

“Are you going to put a baby in me?” you teased.

“Yes, I’m going to put a baby in you. Your belly will bulge with my cum.” He was such a mild mannered, strait-laced working citizen, your husband, so to hear him speak so perverted, so explicitly, it turned you on. It made you ache with need.

He tossed his billowy shirt into the floor, whipping off his wife-beater, and unzipping his trousers. Just as he touched his glasses to remove them, you interrupted, “No, keep them on, please. I love you in your glasses.”

Timmy smirked at you, “What wifey wants, she gets.” He dropped his trousers and boxers to the floor, and climbed on top of you.

You giggled, instinctively putting your hands on him, sliding them over his back. His muscles were hard, but his skin soft and smooth. And he smelled incredible, even after a long day at the office.

He attacked your mouth with hungry kisses, he tore your clothes off quickly.

“Timmy, don’t rip them!” you cried.

“You’re worried about your clothes right now? You should be thinking about my cock.”

You giggled as he removed every article off of you. He touched your pussy, you gasped as his fingers brushed against your warm, wet folds. His fingers were slightly roughed from years of typing and using a calculator, so he irritated your flesh in the most erotic way.

“Are you thinking of my cock?” he demanded, deepening his voice, replacing his fingers with the tip of his cock touching your clit.

You shuddered, “I was actually thinking of your fingers, my love.” But you wiggled slightly, feeling eager to have him inside of you.

“Yeah? Taste yourself on them.” he dared, putting his digits to your lips.

You looked in his eyes, unsure.

Timmy nodded, “You should. You always taste good, baby.” He was back to his tender, sweet self for a moment.

You took a gentle hold onto his hand, bringing the tips of his middle and forefinger into your mouth, moistening them even more, tasting the salty and sweet flavor of your slickness.

Your husband bit his lip, groaning ever so softly at the sight. “Do you have to be so breedable? Fuck.”

With that, his plunged his thick cock into you. Unable to do anything else, you kept his fingers in your mouth, sucking.

Timmy’s voice rumble in his throat as he started to buck his hips, slowly at first, stretching you, then faster. The flesh of his skin started slapping against your wet core. “Yesss, ahh.” he groaned, clenching his eyes shut in pleasure.

You shuddered and cried out your moans as his cocked bucked hard into you, deeper and deeper.

His thrusts were rough, but determined. He held your face as he nuzzled into your neck, kissing, nibbling on your throat, cursing under his ragged breath. "You feel amazing, it's hard not to come yet." he muttered.

You placed your hands on his back, not wanting him to ever get off of you. You loved the warmth of his body and the pressure of his weight on you. His balls slapped against your ass as he gained more speed. "Ah!" you yelped, the leg muscles tensing and your toes curling. You hand found his hair, tugging. It was so intense, so warm, and so much friction. You loved feeling so full and so loved.

"Fuck, here it comes." Timmy grunted, "Ah, I'm gonna fill you with my cum, you're having my baby soon." He cupped his sweaty hands onto your hips. "I love you so much."

You felt his sperm spill and spirt into you. He shoved his cock deep inside, fucking the baby making serum further. You let your head fall back, your core felt numb, and you saw only stars. "I love you, Timmy. I'm gonna have your baby." you said weakly as your body went limp.

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @lixzey @bitchyunknownuser @ducktapebar @aoi-targaryen @yukideadinside @elloise0 @thatoneweirdgirl17 @mel-vaz @sammy-halpert @iwishchalamet @that-one-fangirl69 @jindongdongie @briefkittenearthquake @imnotoverlyobsessive

[lixzey]

The Unknown Number

a/n: again guys, please ignore the time stamps!

Your eyes widened as you saw photo. “What the fuck?”

Was it really him? Or was someone else catfishing you? If someone was in fact, catfishing you, they were doing a great job because the photo they had just sent was new. Timothée has never posted a photo like this before. Maybe, it was one of his staff? It had to be, because there was no way in hell that Timothée fucking Chalamet would reply to some random number.

Suddenly, a notification popped up on your phone from instagram.

tchalamet added a post!

tchalamet SNL tonight RUN IT

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Oh fuck, it really was him.

You immediately dialled Hailey's number. You paced around the room as you waited for her answer.

Damn it, Hails, answer my fucking call.

“What's up, bitch?” Hailey's voice rang in your ears, finally picking up after minutes.

“Oh cazzo, Hailey, credo di star parlando con il vero Timothée Chamalet!”

“Wait, what!?” Hailey gasped. “Talk in english for god's sake! You get all squeaky when you get excited, you cunt,”

You rolled your eyes, laughing softly. “Okay, sorry, I got excited!”

“Get to the point, Y/n! Nana wants us to be ready in five minutes for dinner!”

“Okay so,” You giggled, still reeling from what just happened. “The number you sent? I think it's Timothée Chalamet!”

“I understood you the first time, you idiot,” Hailey said, you were sure she rolled her eyes. “What's your proof?” Hailey asked.

“The number I texted sent a photo, which coincidentally, two minutes later Timothée posted the same photo on his instagram account!” You squealed, kicking your feet up in the air.

“Jesus Christ! Send me a screenshot! Omg this is crazy!”

“Yeah, it is! I'll send you a screenshot in a few minutes, I'm gonna text this e number again. You know, to make sure.”

“You better, bitch,” Hailey laughed. “Okay, talk to you later!”

“Later, babes!” You said, before ending the call.

You opened up your iMessage app and started texting Timothée again.

Here you were, stuck in a hotel room, and texting—bullying—Timothée Chalamet.

It was immature, but were literally texting the man you've been worshipping for years.

It was only harmless texting, right? What the hell could possibly go wrong?

@helens3amstuff @gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @lovemelikecrazyiloveyoucrazy @tchalamss @ashlynnmalfoy @crazycat-ladys-blog @michakune @mxltifxnd0m @spencerr3idd @dangelnleif @sthkate @ferrjulie @imnotoverlyobsessive @mel-vaz @elsagreeer @lovely-maryj @meowmeowmau @bobthe-turmpetman29 @saintcosette @ashisabitgay @ladyladybuggg @nyrasunderwrld @remussbitch @jadahxx @starrystormwritings @ell0ra-br3kk3r @dreary-salem @drewsandsebastianswife @greenapplegrass @lilianelena39 @haybellewrites @cloudlst @si4a @ev3ningrain @ttulipwritezz @lilmaymayy @bullets-from-another-dimension @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader @reg-arcturus-black @marina468 @3stelar @timhalamet @st4rf00k3r @idli-dosa @jimins15thhair @blacksgarden

[isaacarellanesismyhusband]

you’re my favorite people

pair: Timothée Chalamet x reader

requested by @pmak2002

Timothee and reader have a baby together and one night the baby gets sick and Tim does too. Reader has to take care of both of them all night and all day. By the end of the day she needs to rest with both sickies after taking care of both of them.

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Y/N had just settled into bed after a long day of work when she heard the soft whimper from the baby monitor. She sighed, glancing at the clock. It was just past midnight. She carefully got out of bed, trying not to wake Timothée, who was sprawled across the sheets, completely out.

Entering the nursery, she found their baby girl, Lily, lying in her crib, her tiny face scrunched up in discomfort. Y/N rushed to her side, gently lifting her into her arms. “Hey, sweet girl. What’s wrong?” she whispered, rocking her slightly.

Lily let out a small cough, and Y/N’s heart sank. “Oh no, baby. Let’s get you comfortable.” She checked Lily’s forehead and felt the warmth radiating from it. She hurried to get a cool cloth and some medicine before settling back in the rocking chair.

As she was soothing Lily, she heard Timothée stir. “Y/N?” he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. She turned to see him rubbing his eyes, looking both adorable and exhausted.

“Lily’s not feeling well,” she replied, trying to keep her voice steady. “She has a little fever.”

Timothée blinked a few times before sitting up, his hair a mess. “I can help—” He stopped mid-sentence, a sudden cough interrupting him. Y/N’s heart sank again.

“You don’t look so good either, Tim.”

“I think I might be getting sick,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair. “What do you need me to do?”

Y/N smiled softly, despite the worry bubbling inside her. “Just stay here with us. I’ll handle everything.”

After a long night of rocking and comforting Lily, Y/N finally got her to settle down, but Timothée’s coughs grew worse. She took a deep breath, knowing the day ahead would be challenging.

As the sun rose, Y/N made her way to the kitchen. She prepared some warm soup, hoping it would help both Timothée and Lily feel better. After feeding Lily, who was still feeling groggy, she returned to Timothée, who was now propped up against the pillows, looking pale.

“Hey,” she said, handing him a bowl. “Eat this. You both need your strength.”

Timothée managed a small smile. “You’re the best, you know that?”

Y/N couldn’t help but chuckle, even though she felt exhausted. “I’m just trying to keep you both from turning into zombies.”

After a long day of caring for her two sickies, with countless cuddles, medicine doses, and a few tears from Lily, Y/N finally collapsed onto the couch. She pulled both Timothée and Lily close to her, feeling the warmth of their bodies against hers.

“You’re my favorite people,” she whispered, looking down at Lily’s tiny face nestled against her chest and Timothée’s head resting on her shoulder.

“Even when we’re sick?” Timothée murmured, his eyes half-closed.

“Even when you’re sick,” she replied softly, a smile tugging at her lips. “Now let’s just rest, okay?”

[roxygen22]

Timothee sickfic but you chose whatever sickness

With Female reader plz

Since I just posted a Timothée/Laurie sickfic yesterday, I switched to a sick reader instead.

Stay With Me

C/W: fever, fainting, hospitals

I heard a muffled voice as I came to, like I was underwater. When did I fall asleep? I felt someone shaking my shoulders.

"[incoherent mumbling]...[y/n]...[Y/N]!" The voice became clearer. Timothée's voice. "There you are. Stay with me, baby. Stay with me," I heard him say in a panic. I felt him kiss my forehead. "Oh f*ck, you're burning up."

I blinked and looked around, confused. Why am I in my bedroom floor? When did Timothée get here? I saw the outline of Timothée's form, but I couldn't focus on it. I only knew it was him by the sound of his voice. It sounded like he was calling someone. I didn't want to sleep, but I couldn't stop my eyelids from closing again...so tired...

The next time I woke, I heard the distinct sound of a heart rate monitor. I could smell noxious aroma of disinfectant. Am I in the hospital? Why am I here? The beeping intensified as I became more cognizant - and fearful - of my surroundings. It took a lot of effort to finally get my eyes open. All I could see at first was the harsh fluorescent light above me.

Once I could focus, I looked over and spotted Timothée's head on the bed. His frame was slumped over from his seat next to me. His hand held mine as he slept using his forearm as a pillow. He jumped up from his seat when he felt me stir. I saw the look of sheer relief on his face when he locked eyes with me.

"Oh, [Y/N], baby, you're awake! Oh, thank God, you're awake." Timothée sandwiched my hand between his and kissed it repeatedly. Tears rolled down his cheeks.

"What-" I tried to ask what happened, but my throat was too dry to make more than a raspy sound.

"Shh, shhh, don't strain your voice. Here, let's get you some water." He used one hand to support my head and the other to hold the cup as I took tiny sips from the straw. It felt like I hadn't drank anything in days.

"What happened?" I finally managed to get the words out.

"You didn't answer the door when I came by to pick you up for dinner. I got worried because I hadn't heard from you since we exchanged texts that morning, so I used my key to get in. I found you passed out in your bedroom floor. I have no idea how long you were like that. You-" his voice cracked. "You weren't responsive when I tried to wake you up. When you came to, it wasn't for long. You were feverish, too. I got scared and called 911. They brought you to the hospital."

"Do they know what's wrong with me? How long have I been here?" I had so many questions, but that was all I could muster.

"You've been in and out of consciousness for two days. But even when you were awake, you weren't lucid. They ran tests - you contracted West Nile Virus."

"Two days?! Have YOU been here for two days?" You dropped your head to the pillow. "All of those mosquito bites from the photography walk."

Timothée nodded. "That's what tipped them off to check for WNV first. They asked me about your travel history and habits. They wanted me to stay in the waiting room until they confirmed you didn't have anything contagious, but they relented if I agreed to mask and glove up after I kept bugging the nurses for updates. I didn't want you to wake up alone."

"You hate hospitals," I whimpered.

He half-smiled. "Not as much as I hated the thought of you being alone and scared." He kissed my hand again.

Timothée stayed with me until I was discharged days later, only leaving long enough to go shower and grab some clothes for both of us. He drove me home and helped me to my apartment. He cleaned out my fridge of any expired foods and went shopping to restock it. He waited on me hand and foot and even tucked me into bed. When he acted like he was about to leave, I asked:

"Stay with me, Timmy. Please."

"Always," Timothée whispered as he settled under the covers next to me.

<><><><><>

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@croatianprincess

@bluizh

@jindongdongie

@groovyqueer

[oneshots-heaven]

“Sleeping Mates" — Timothée Chalamet

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

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

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

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

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

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

2:38 AM. 

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

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

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

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

One that you felt the need for now. 

To: Timothée

Can’t sleep

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

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

From: Timothée 

come sleep with me

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

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

This had to be a joke. 

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

From: Timothée

are you there or asleep already?

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

To: Timothée

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

Seconds later, your phone buzzed once more. 

From: Timothée 

open your door then

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

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

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

“Can I come in?“ 

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

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

“Yes,“ you breathed. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Let’s go to bed, then.“ 

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

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

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

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

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

“Relax,“ he whispered into the dark. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why?“

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

“I don’t know, I just can’t.“ 

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

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

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

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

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

“Why did you come here, Timmy?“ 

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

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

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

And you did. 

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

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

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

“Why?“ 

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

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

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

“Timmy?“ 

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

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

“Really?“ 

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

Why even, why still? 

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

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

Was this even real? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t look at me like that.“ 

You met his eyes. “Like what?“ 

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

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

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

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

“Can I take your shirt off, too?“

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

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

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

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

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

[camatchoum]

Not so dramatic, after all

Willy Wonka x reader

Request : Hi I have a request for a wonkaxreader!! Could the reader really be into theatre like all they ever want to do is perform but once they get an audition and it goes horrible and they are crushed?? @macmonster09

Summary : You have your biggest audition today for a play that you love, but you are incredibly nervous. A certain chocolatier tries to help you with that, but it's doesn't really go well.

Words : 4.0k

Warnings: angst, fluff.

My masterlist

Today is the day. Today, you have THE big audition. The one that is going to change your life forever.

Since you are a little kid, you want to work in theatres. Your grandpa took you to see Romeo and Juliet when you were only five, and from that moment, you knew you wanted this to be your life. He always used to say that he knew Shakespeare. He was one of his best friends. When you were little, you believed him, but as you got older, you knew he was kidding, but you always laughed. You loved your grandpa so much, and you thank him every day for giving you the love of the theatre. You hope that one day he will watch you perform on the biggest stage of the world. You know he is not there anymore, not on earth anyway, but you always thought that he was watching you from the stars.

Today, you have an audition for the new play of your town's theatre : Romeo and Juliet. You were always too afraid to actually go to an audition. Well, you always walk to the theatre but then get back home at the last minute. But when you saw the title, you knew it was a sign from your grandpa. You had to pass the audition this time.

You are on your way to the audition. You are incredibly nervous. You have a strong grip on your bag as you are running. It is snowing outside, so normally you would have walked to be careful. But you were so overwhelmed with stress that you got out of your house late. So now you have to run.

You run inside the Galaries Gourmet, the theatre being on the other side. You curse when you see all the people in the way, and they don't seem to be moving. You try to slip through the crowd, repeating sorry's without caring if the person you push actually heard you. You need to go on the other side. You are moving forward with your goal, the only thing going on in your mind.

It was really the only thing you could think of because you didn't see a cane going right into your chest, causing you to fall with a scream. The man with the cane immediately stops what he is saying with a gasp and goes at your rescue.

"Oh no, I'm so sorry. Miss, are you okay?" The man asks you as you try to stand up again, but you slip and end into his arms. When you look up, you see that this man is probably your age, with curly brown hair beneath is high hat. He also wears a big purple coat. That is an interesting choice of colour. You blink when you see the man's lips move.

"I-I'm sorry what?" You stutter, and you can feel your cheeks burning. You are clearly embarrassed, and on top of that, this man is really good-looking. You are afraid you were passing for a dumb girl, but he only chuckles.

"I asked you if you were okay? I'm sorry I didn't see that you were in the way. I should be more careful with the cane." He says sweetly before he looks at you, and his eyes widen. He immediately let you go, and you can see his cheeks turn a little bit red. "I-I-I'm sorry it was just a re-reflex." He stutters too, thinking he was in the wrong here.

"No, don't worry about it. If you didn't catch me, I would have probably fallen again, so I'm actually glad you did it." You day, causing him to smile. "Thank you..."

"OH, I'm Willy Wonka, chocolatier. Would you like to try some..."

"I'm Y/n. I would love to but I don't have this kind of money." You say sadly.

"Nonsense miss Y/n. This one is free." He hands you a chocolate. You are about to take it when you remember a tiny detail. Your eyes widen.

"Oh my god, I need to go." You take your bag that was still on the floor before you start to run.

"Wait! You forgot to taste my chocolate!" You hear Willy Wonka scream before you see him running right next to you.

"I'm sorry, I really need to go." You don't stop running, Willy, neither.

"Where are you going?"

"I have an important audition today at the theatre, and I'm already late. I'm so nervous I could puke right now."

"I have the best thing to give you for that." Willy says with his eyes full of joy.

"What is it?"

"Can we stop running first. I'm not exactly an athletic guy."

You decide to stop. You aren't an athlete anyway, so that is actually better. You both catch your breath before looking at each other. You are both taking big breaths. This made you both chuckle.

"Ok, so what is it? An advice?" You ask.

"I have much better." He says so excited. He takes his suitcase and opens it. You see a lot of colourful vials that seem to have something special inside each of them. You watch as he starts to mix the content of a few vials before he pushes on a few buttons. His suitcase starts to make a lot of weird noises. You are wondering if this is a good idea. What if he is trying to poison you? Maybe you should escape while he wasn't looking. You still have to go after all, and you don't want to die.

But before you could think about getting away anymore, Willy stands up with a big smile. You think it can reach the stars.

"I present to you the Never Sad Chocolate. I'll find a better name later. A chocolate with a drop of a double rainbow, a point of glitter because glitters make you happy. And just a heart full of Belgian milk chocolate because chocolate alone makes you happy." He says with such excitement while putting the famous chocolate in your hand. "I promise you that you'll couldn't even think of being sad after eating this."

You eye him suspiciously, but his eyes are so full of light that you decide to eat it. You pop the chocolate in your mouth, and it is ultra delicious. You can feel happiness flow inside your veins and full filling your heart. And before you know it, the corners of your lips start to go up. You are smiling so much that it hurts. It's like all your stress washed away.

"Oh my god, that's so good. I feel so good." You say with excitement too. "Thank you so much, Mr Wonka."

"Please, call me Willy. And it was nothing, really. I'm happy you appreciate it."

"Well, I still have to hurry, so I should go now. But thank you so much, I feel so happy!!!!" You beam causing Willy to chuckle. You start to walk in the direction of the theatre.

"Come tell me how it happened!" Willy calls to you.

"Promise!" You scream back.

With your new confidence, you walk with determination to your audition. You are going to break it. When you arrive, you tell your name to the woman at the front desk and then wait for your turn. You aren't feeling anywhere near nervous at the moment. You are just patiently waiting, rehearsing in your head how you are going to act and all.

"Y/n Y/l/n" a woman calls out your name. You stand up and walk to the centre of the stage before looking at the three judges before you. "We are ready to see what you have to show us." The woman says. "Good luck."

You thank her before going to your position. You start to act one of the happy scenes in Romeo and Juliet. You are doing really well. The judges are impressed with the way you act and the way you adapted the role to suit yourself. They think that you are a one of kind artist who could mesmerised the audience. They are all falling for your charms. When you finish the scene, you are proud of yourself. Proud for doing it. You hope your grandpa would be proud of you. You turn to hear what the judges have to say.

"That was the best audition I ever saw in my entire life, Miss Y/l/n. Your smile is so contagious that we couldn't stop smiling." A judge says. You are so happy right now.

"Thank you so much." You answer.

"We would like to see you act a sad scene because this role doesn't only represent the happy side of the story. Whichever you would like. We really want to see the tears and the desperation on your face. Got it?" Another judge says.

"Okay no problem."

You go back in position. You started to think about sad things. Normally, it helps a lot when you want to make tears, but right now, it's like you can't even think of one bad thing in your life. You push this aside. It's okay, you tell yourself. You start to act, trying to put as much sadness in your voice. You try to transfer your desperation to the judges, but all that is escaping your mouth is a joyful voice. The lines are sad, but the way you act, it's like you couldn't even care. You try again and again, and again, before taking your hands, putting them on your cheeks to try to stop smiling. You can't. You just can't. Every time you push your cheeks down, they go up immediately. You can't stop smiling.

The judges are starting to eye you like you are a weirdo. One of them starts to cough a little to stop the awkwardness of the situation.

"I think we are going to stop here, miss Y/l/n." One of the judges says. "I'm sorry, but if you are not capable of acting on a sad scene, then we can not give you the role."

"I agree with him. Your happiness was really beautiful to watch, but this one scene. That was a disaster." The second one says.

"Yeah, try to work on this part, but right now, we can't accept this." The third one finishes.

You are still smiling. Of course you are. You say a small thank you before you grab your bag and run out. As you are walking to the Gallerie Gourmet, you feel your cheeks going down. The tears finally start to fall. Why now?! You don't know what happened. You know how to act sadness, you've done it a lot of times in your room. What you don't know is why you just couldn't stop smiling. Of course, they wouldn't give you the part with the way you acted like you were living in the ocean with a beautiful mermaid tail. It was like you were having a glittery rainbow spilling out of you.

A rainbow... with glitters... a felling of cosiness only brought by chocolate...

I promise you that you can't even think of being sad after eating this.

Willy the freaking chocolatier Wonka.

When the realisation hit you, you arrive inside the Galeries Gourmet. You can see a crowd from where you are and you know exactly who is at the centre of it. You walk angrily to the curly boy before you tap on his shoulder, causing him to turn around.

"Y/n!!! How did it go?" Willy asks with excitement. He knows it was something important to you. But his smile drops when he looks into your eyes. Don't get him wrong, when he met you earlier, he was mesmerised by the beauty of them. But right now, when he looks into these two perfect diamonds, all he can see are puffy red eyes full of tears.

"Not so well if you want to know." You answer him angrily.

"Oh. Why is that? My chocolate didn't work?" He stretches his neck. He is a little uncomfortable with the way you are talking to him. It is like it is his fault that something went wrong.

"This. Is. Your. Fault!" You stab him in his chest with your finger.

"What?! How?!" He exclaims. He doesn't want to be the reason for your pretty face to be angry. Wait, what?

"This is all because of your stupid chocolate! I couldn't even act like I was sad!"

"Oh, so it did work. I was afraid for a moment that I had to review the recipe of this one. So that's great, actually? I told you you couldn't be sad because of it." He says with a smile. You calm down immediately. He is so innocent you don't even know why you are trying to yell at him.

"Yeah, well, think for a moment. If I can't act sadness, how can I get a role where you have to be sad from time to time?" You take your bag before leaving in the direction of your house.

When he sees you leave, that's when it hits him. Willy didn't understand at first how the fact that his chocolate worked was the problem. But now he does. He feels so bad for ruining your audition. It must have been something really important to you from the way you are crying. When people begin to ask him for help to buy his chocolates, he is brought back but not really either. He is not this joyful man anymore. He is just a ghost. He can't stop thinking about you. Not that it changes really because when you left for your audition, you were all his mind could think of. He couldn't even think of chocolate, and THAT is new. He doesn't know how he is feeling with you, but he does know that he wants to see a smile on your face. He wants to be the one to put a smile on your face, not be the reason why you are so sad.

He decides from that moment that he is going to be the one who fixes everything. He first goes to the theater, then he goes in the direction he sees you leave. Yes, he left his travel shop like that, but not before he heard Noodle yelling at him to come back so she must know that he left and that she has to take care of it. He wants to run so that he has a better chance to catch you, but he stops at the fountain when he sees a curdle up figure. It is you. You are probably crying. He approaches quietly before sitting down next to you.

"What do you want?" You sob, breaking his heart.

"I want to say how sorry I am. I understand now how it is my fault that your audition didn't go well." You don't look up at him. "What's in your hand?" He asks when he sees you fidgeting with something.

"It's.. it's something from my grandpa." You hand it to him. He takes it.

"A ticket?"

"Yeah. Romeo and Juliet. It's the first play I ever saw. My grandpa took me with him, and I instantly fell in love with the theatre world. I passed the audition today for the same play to make my grandpa proud." You sob again. You take the ticket back from his hands. "I guess he will not be proud of me after what happened."

"That's nonsense. I'm sure he will be proud of you at the end of the day."

"He will not. Don't you understand? This audition was my chance to do what I love for a living. It was my only opportunity to show people the beauty of theatre while doing the thing I love the most. It was my dream. My whole life is over now."

"My mom used to say that a dream is the start of great ideas. You can achieve anything if it starts with a dream." He says sweetly, a tiny smile on his face. He missed her so much.

"That's beautiful. She is very wise."

"Yeah, she was."

"I'm sorry. My grandpa used to say that he would watch me from the start when I broke the dramatic world." You chuckles sadly. This brought Willy back from the nostalgic place in his head. He smiles and stands up abruptly. You look up at him curiously.

"And you are going to break it today." He gives you his hand. "Come with me, I have a surprise for you."

"What do you mean?"

"Just trust me, please." You give him a look. "I know, the last time you trusted me, I ruined everything. But this time I promise you are going to love it." You ponder for a moment before you take his hand.

You both start to walk in the opposite way from your house, returning back to the Galeries Gourmet and the theatre. You feel your cheeks burning when you remember that his hand is still in yours. But you don't say anything in fear that he will take it back. Not so long after you arrive at the theatre and before going inside, Willy moves so that he is in front of you. From that moment, you can observe his green eyes. They are really pretty.

"What are we doing here?" You ask.

"I may or may not have convinced the judges to give you another chance." He answers with a giddy smile.

"You are kidding, right?" You begin to smile too. "They let you do that?"

"No. At first, no." He zones out a little. Like he was thinking how he was crushed when they said no to his request. "They didn't believe me. But, I gave them each the same chocolate that I gave you, and when they saw the effects from it, they decided that you deserved another chance."

"Oh my god. Thank you, thank you, thank you." You say with excitement and hug him. You can't stop smiling, and you are glad it's not from his chocolate this time.

"As much as I like this, we really need to go inside. I told them we would be back in five, and it's already been like twenty minutes." He really doesn't want to let you go. Having you in his arms brings him a new feeling that he already felt like it is intoxicating. But if he doesn't let you go right now, you will still be sad. He doesn't want that.

"Oh my god! Why didn't you tell me earlier?!" You scream with joy before you take his hand and go inside.

When you are inside, you fast walk until you are in front of the judges again. You both excuse yourselves for the wait. You give your bag to Willy before going on the stage while he goes sit on a red velvet seat behind the judges.

"So miss Y/l/n, here we go again." One of the judges starts to say with a smile. "We were all really impressed with your acting earlier. The happiness part, obviously."

"What he means is that we are very eager to watch you again." A second judge says. "Since Mr Wonka explained to us what happened, we want to see more of you."

"Thank you for this new chance. I appreciate it greatly." You say before you go into your world.

You prepare yourself, but the stress starts to eat you again. You open your eyes to see Willy giving you thumbs-up. You smile be he can see that you ate still nervous so he points to the ceiling. You are confused, but look anyway. What you see is a fake sky full of starts. The stars. Your grandpa. You look back at Willy with tears in your eyes. You aren't filling sadness but with happiness. Your grandpa is with you right now, taking all your stress with him.

And so you start to act the sad scene. You are fully crying but not to the point where nobody can hear what you are saying. To Willy's eyes, you are perfect. He is so enhanced with the way you move, the way you act, the way your lips move. If someone were to punch him in the face right now, he wouldn't even do something about it. He wouldn't move his eyes from your figure. He doesn't even know when it stops until he hears the judges applause. He immediately stands up and claps hard his hands, too. It's so hard that one of the judges coughs a little to make him stop. He excuses himself in embarrassment, but when he sees you chuckle, his smile doesn't go down. But right now he wants to hear the resulst. He feels like he can't contain his nervousness. He really wants you to get the part.

"I can say Miss Y/l/n that this is one of the best acting I ever saw. We really could feel the desperation and all the emotions."

"I think we can all agree that you are very talented and we can't pass that. We can't take the risk of having such talent getting away from the scenes."

"Miss Y/l/n, we have the pleasure to tell you that you got the part."

You are exploiting with joy. You start to cry happy tears again. You try to thank the judges, but nobody can understand what you are saying. And clearly, nobody cares. They all have an idea of how you must feel right now. You freaking got the main part in a Romeo and Juliet play!

You get off the stage to shake hands with the judges, thanking them again before you go to Willy. You both walk to the door, and right when you are outside, Willy takes you in his arms, spinning you around.

He can't contain his happiness and you neither. He finally puts you down but doesn't let you go out of his arms.

"I'm so proud of you! You were so perfect. You are so talented." He says with a big smile.

"Thank you. I couldn't have done it without you."

"You do know I'm the one that ruined it, right?" He says, and you both chuckles.

"Maybe at first. But you got out of your way to give me another chance. Nobody would have done that for me." You say, and he blushes slightly.

"When you'll become famous, I hope you'll remember me."

"I don't think I'll ever forget you." His heart stops for a moment.

"You'll come perform at my shop?" He looks into your sparkly eyes.

"Of course, it will be my favourite stage to perform on with the best public."

"I don't think I want to let you go."

"Then don't."

You take him back into your arms, not wanting to let go of him either. You want him to be in your life forever.

And that's when Willy knows that you are not getting away anytime soon. And he can't wait to pass all this time with you. He couldn't be happier. He wants you to be in his life forever.

--------

And that's it guys. Hope you enjoyed. I love the movie so much it is now one of my happy place I think.

[heythrrdelilah]

timmy Timmy Timmy Timmy! Everithing about this lovable man

This man actually owns me. He’s #1 on my list and will forever be. So please request more Timmy y’all 🤣 I haven’t written smut in forever so please be mindful of that when reading.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, oral manipulations, sex

Pairings: Timothée Chalamet x F!Reader

Neighbors

The sound of bustling New York traffic filled your small studio apartment as you lay in your bed. You had a particularly rough day at work and you were wanting nothing more than to lay in your dark apartment, binge watch Love Island while you mindlessly scroll on your phone. Your air conditioning in your apartment went out a week ago so the window behind your bed had been open in an attempt of temporarily relieving some of the heat. The busy New York streets have become your sleep ambiance.

In the middle of the re-coupling of the episode you were watching, your finger stumbled upon your dating app folder in your phone. You were scrolling on Instagram before, but something in the Love Island air had you wanting to use Hinge like it was a phone game. You were never looking for anything serious, or anything in general. You never messaged your matches back. It was more like you had the apps for the option.

Scrolling to pass the time, you stopped on one profile that seemed a bit too familiar. The man had curly dark hair that fell over his face. In most of his pictures, his phone covered the majority of his chiseled features but showed his green eyes. It wasn’t until you looked at the name that it struck you where you knew him from. He lived next door to you, well across the hall. He was attractive, tall and lean. You’d never spoken before, just saw each other in passing, he probably hadn’t ever actually seen you before if you really thought about it. You still felt like you couldn’t swipe on him. The likely hood of you matching would probably be impossible, but in the off chance you did match, you lived right across from each other. You’d have to see him every day. If you matched and ignored it like all of your other matches, there would still be the lingering of the known fact you at least find him attractive.

In the deep thought, the show got good and you lay your phone down for a moment, allowing yourself to give your brain a break to dive into the drama of the show. When you looked back down at your phone you saw a giant ‘MATCHED’ across your phone screen. You must have accidentally swiped while putting your phone down. Your heart paused for a second and your eyes widened. The next notification across the screen was a message. He had already messaged you.

Timothée: hey neighbor.

That was it? What were you supposed to respond to that? You tossed your phone to the side and continued to watch the show again until your phone buzzed again.

Timothée: is your AC out too?

Is that why he matched with you? To see if your apartment was in the same condition as his? You could only find out one way.

You: yeah. I talked to the super last week but he just said he would get to it when he gets to it. Glad to know im not the only one.

An hour had passed and no response, so you assumed that had been exactly what he wanted, to ask about your AC. You were on your third episode into the binge when your phone buzzed again.

Timothée: I have a window unit but I have some extra fans. I’ll come bring you one if you need one. This summer is hot as fuck

You rolled your eyes as if it was habit. You’d be crazy to accept. Because he just wanted to know about your ac, but you obviously found him attractive and he knew it because you matched with him. His was information based, yours was attraction based, how embarrassing.

You didn’t respond. You turned your alarm for the morning on, just in case you fell asleep and continued watching your show.

Until a knock came at your apartment door. You huffed out a sigh and flung your legs off the side of the bed. The oversized shirt covering your shorts but you didn’t care. It was one in the morning and whoever it was, didn’t need to be knocking anyways. You opened the door and saw the curly haired man standing in a white t-shirt, black shorts, sneakers, holding a white oscillating fan.

He smirked down at you, “you didn’t answer so I brought it over anyways.” His voice was low and raspy. It added to his attraction. You felt suddenly aware of your messy appearance. “Thank you. I can return it to you when they fix it,” you reached for the fan but he pulled it back. “I can bring it in for you. It’s heavy and the button is finicky,” he informed. You moved to the side and let him in. You pointed to the bed area, “there would be great.”

“You swiped on me. Was it weird knowing I’m your neighbor?” He asked as he plugged the fan in. You turned bright red. When you didn’t respond, he broke the silence, “I am only asking because I swiped on you weeks ago. When you moved in? I told my buddy how beautiful you were.” Your heart was beating fast and you were definitely bright red at this point. “Really?” You asked, too nervous to tell him you basically told your best friend he was hot when you moved in. He nods and looks over at you, his eyes looking slowly from your feet to your head. You managed to find the courage, “I told my best friend basically the same.” He took a step towards you and now there was just inches between you.

He looked down at you, you up at him. The tension was rising. “The fan definitely is helping in here already. It feels cooler,” you croaked out, not breaking eye contact. He smirked, “let’s use the cool air to our advantage and make it hot again?” In that moment he leaned down and his lips met yours. You allowed yourself to sink into the kiss. His hand was on the back of your head, moving your head with his. His other hand was on the small of your back ever so gently. You placed both of your hands on his chest and gripped his shirt to pull him closer. The two of you stumbled back and fell to your bed.

Your hands moved to grasp his hair as his kisses went down your neck, his hands up your shirt gripping your breasts. You pushed him up so that you were in a sitting position. You slipped your shirt off to expose your breasts completely. He kicked his lips in his smirk, throwing his head back and groaning “fuck” before taking his own shirt off and laying back over you. His lips pressed against yours once again and his left hand trailed from the center of your chest, his middle finger just barely grazing your skin, down your shorts and circled your clit slow and gentle.

You instinctively clenched your thighs but he backed away from the kiss and used both of his hands to remove your shorts and push open your legs. He knelt down beside the edge of the bed, gripped your thighs, and pulled you to where you were placed perfectly at the edge. He placed his head between your thighs and began working his tongue and finger in unison. You wiggled and flexed your thighs, arching your back in pleasure. When you couldn’t take it anymore, you moaned out a simple demand, “fuck me.” He looked up grinning at you wickedly, “all you have to do is ask politely.” You looked back at him with pleading eyes and used the sweetest voice you had, “please fuck me.”

He removed his shorts and boxers quickly, grabbing his condom from his shorts showing that he had this planned all along and the fan was most likely just an excuse. A helpful excuse. He lined himself up and slowly inserted himself. He was being a tease. He thrust slowly until you were begging for more.

Six positions and 45 minutes later, you were both lying on your bed, out of breath, listening to the noises of New York. “Nice to finally meet you, neighbor,” he chuckled wrapping an arm around you. You nudged his side jokingly, “likewise,neighbor.”

[imnotoverlyobsessive]

Title of Your Sex Tape

Chapter Six: I Want To Fucking Tear You Apart

AO3 one two three four five six seven eight

All my work is 18+.

So much for keeping this just friends, shut up and kiss me now, and we carry on. I don’t wanna say goodnight; the city comes alive when we’re together. Why can’t Thursday last forever? I don’t wanna say goodnight; I’ve never been so sure.- All Time Low, For Baltimore

Lea woke up when Tim stepped through the door an hour or so later.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he muttered. “Mackenzie is just not pleasant to be around.” She noticed he was almost entirely soft. He must really dislike his costar.

His dick twitched when he looked over at her, though. She’d sat up on her elbows, and the blanket slid down, revealing her breasts. “D’you need help?” she asked sleepily.

“A kiss would be nice,” he admitted, moving towards her. “And also possibly some groping.”

Lea giggled, reaching for him instinctively. He knelt down, cupped her face with his hand, and kissed her. It was hungry immediately, like he wanted to breathe her in, starting with her lips, and his other hand reached over to grasp her breast. She moaned into his mouth, sitting up fully and wrapping her arms around his neck, threading her fingers through his hair. Tim twisted her nipple, and she gasped, giving him the opportunity to slide his tongue into her mouth.

At that exact moment, however, Lea’s stomach growled.

They both froze, and then Tim laughed against her lips. “Need a snack?”

She pulled away, blushing. “Shuddup.”

He chuckled, leaning back in to kiss her cheek. “You’re so cute when you’re embarrassed. It’s cool, I need to go do my next scene anyway.”

Jealousy twisted in her stomach, but she forced it down. “Are you, uh… y’know, good?”

Tim snorted. “Yeah, sweetheart. You consistently get me as hard as a rock.” He gave her a swift peck on the lips before standing back up and handing her her clothes. “Go get something to eat. You’ll feel better afterwards.”

Lea pulled her clothes back on, blushing as she did so.

Tim sighed regretfully, gesturing to her clothes. “That’s a national tragedy, honestly.”

She glanced up at him as she pulled her stockings back on. “Why?”

“‘Cause your tits are covered back up, of course.”

Lea flushed again, straightening her top as she stood back up and mumbling, “That’s hardly a tragedy of any level.”

He hummed, opening the door for her. “Agree to disagree.”

She rolled her eyes and headed off in the direction of the break room.

“So,” Susie began, taking a bite of her sandwich, “how’s work goin’? You get along okay with Tim?”

Lea smiled brightly at the other girl. She liked Susie, figuring she understood what being a fluffer was like. “Yeah, Tim’s great!”

Susie nodded in agreement. “He’s very polite.”

Lea smiled again. “Uh uh. He makes me feel really special, too.”

Susie blinked at her, her brows furrowing. “Special? What do you mean?”

Lea flushed, turning her soda can around in her hands. “Well, y’know, he’s always so courteous about making me feel good, too, and he’s so sweet when he kisses me and stuff.”

Susie’s eyes widened in apparent shock. “When he what?” she squeaked.

Lea glanced up at the other girl. “What is it?”

“How long has he been doing stuff like that?” Susie demanded, leaning over the table and examining Lea like she was a museum exhibit.

Lea blinked. “Uhhh… well, he kissed me the first time I was here. The other stuff kinda just escalated from there. Is that, like, not normal or something?”

“Dude,” Susie enunciated slowly, “that is the literal opposite of normal. The actors never kiss the fluffers, let alone touch them. I don’t know if they’re even allowed to.”

Lea’s eyes widened. “Oh,” she squeaked. “I… I didn’t know that.”

Susie looked her up and down. “Yeah, I can kinda see it, actually.”

Lea frowned in confusion. “See what?”

The other girl grinned and took a sip of her drink. “Something tells me you’ll figure it out.”

“Nobody ever tells me anything,” Lea grumbled into her own soda.

Like most New York City apartments, the one Lea shared with her best friend, Sam, was tiny. She was lucky to have her own room. And even so, she still paid fifteen hundred a month.

Tim’s apartment, however, in no way resembled Lea’s shoebox apartment for a number of reasons. The first was that Tim’s apartment was significantly more than four times the square footage of hers. It also had four bedrooms, each with its own bathroom, plus a half bath that was literally the same size of the one bathroom she shared with Sam. Its kitchen—which had no less than six burners—was actually big enough to turn around in, had a breakfast table, and a dining separate room to boot.

Tim adored his apartment, mostly because it overlooked the Empire State Building, which was a fact he was weirdly proud of. 

Presently, they were curled up under a blanket on the chaise in his bedroom, watching TV. He had his arm around her and was holding her close, the way he often did.

“Lea,” he said suddenly.

She sighed, pausing the show and turning to scold him. “You don’t just interrupt Avatar, Tim,” she told him, completely ignoring the fact that the way he was looking at her made her stomach flutter and Susie’s words race through her mind. “I’ll have to rewind in order to fully appreciate Katara kicking ass.”

He frowned. “Sorry, I just… I have to ask you something.”

She pursed her lips. “Okay…?”

“Do you ever think about work, like… outside of work?” His voice was quieter than normal, and she wondered why, what he was talking about.

Blinking in confusion, she said, “Err, yeah. I talked to Susie earlier. I was thinking maybe I could ask her to hang out sometime.”

He shook his head, curls falling over his eyes. “No, I mean, like…” He took a deep breath, and she wondered what had him acting so damn anxious. He was never anxious. Dude was confidence personified, so what the hell? Finally, he continued, “When you’re not at work, do you ever think about what you and I do at work?”

Her heart stuttered in her chest. Or maybe it froze. She wasn’t entirely sure. “Uhhhhh…” She gulped. “W— why do you ask?”

Tim looked straight at her when he said, “Because I do. I think about it all the time.”

Her face flamed at the idea of him thinking about the things they did—the things they said—in places that weren’t the studio. “Oh.” She had no idea what to say other than that.

Luckily, or perhaps unluckily, depending on how one looked at it, Tim filled the silence. “I think about how gorgeous you are, how intelligent and funny and interesting you are, the way you touch me and kiss me and moan my name when I make you cum, how you taste and what your body looks like, how soft you are. How good you feel. I think about what it would be like if I could hold you like this whenever I wanted, if I could wake up every day with you in my arms and kiss you, maybe even fuck you, if you’d let me.”

There was static in her brain. She couldn’t think. Why was he saying these things? “Is… is that why you treat me differently than the other fluffers?”

He furrowed his brow. “There are no other fluffers. There’s only you.”

Lea shook her head impatiently. “No, like, how you’ve treated others before me. How the other actors treat their fluffers. Susie told me that how you treat me is… unusual.”

“It is unusual,” he said simply.

“Then why are you, like…” She couldn’t complete her thought, so instead she just ended with, "Why?”

Tim looked at her for a long moment, and then he bluntly told her, “Because I like you. I like you a lot.”

Was she breathing? She wasn’t entirely certain she was breathing. She may not have been. With a gulp, she managed to squeak out, “Like… as a friend, or…?”

He snorted lightly, his arm finally leaving her. “I do like you as a friend, yeah,” he agreed with a nod. “Adore you, actually. But I adore you as a whole hell of a lot more than a friend, too.”

She couldn’t speak. Her mind was reeling from this information. He liked her? As more than a friend?

How? Moreover, why? She knew he found her attractive for some weird reason (Lea was fully aware that she was decently cute, okay, there was nothing wrong with her appearance, strictly speaking, but she didn’t think she was as sexy as he seemed to find her), but for him to have romantic-type feelings for her…

Well, he’d always been a weirdo, hadn’t he?

“How do you feel about me?” he pressed when she remained silent. “I know sucking my dick turned you on enough for you to touch yourself—“ she sputtered in embarrassment at that— “but how do you actually feel about me? Do you like me, too?”

Lea wrung her hands in her lap anxiously. She probably shouldn’t admit to having feelings for him. It was inconvenient, and she didn’t want to be vulnerable with anyone in that sense, let alone someone of his profession. Not that she had any issues with sex work, of course, she just knew he could never truly love her and also sleep with other girls.

But he knew her too well for him to see through a lie, didn’t he?

Well, shit.

“Y— yeah,” she mumbled out, wishing very much that she could disappear.

Tim took her hand in his then, reaching up to cup her cheek in his palm and lifting her face to his. He was grinning at her, looking entirely too pleased with himself, and then he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers.

She arched into him without really meaning to, and before she knew it, she found herself in his lap. He was kissing her neck—no, wait, he was giving her a hickey—and gripping her ass, squeezing roughly.

“Fuck, you’re so sexy,” Tim groaned. “Been thinkin’ about this for months, sweetheart.”

“God, me too,” she admitted breathlessly.

“Tell me you want me,” he pleaded. “I’d give you anything, baby, just— if you want me inside you, I gotta hear you say it.”

She threaded her fingers into his hair. “I want you inside me, Tim.”

“Fuck,” he grunted, his grip on her ass tightening. “Want you, too, princess. Wanna fuck you so good you can’t even move.”

He trailed kisses down her neck, brushing against the collar of her light blue Burberry knit sweater and sliding his hands under the matching skirt to squeeze her ass over her pink Lise Charmel panties, encouraging her to roll her hips against his. “Yes,” she gasped out. “Fuck, that feels good—“

“I’ll bet it does,” he chuckled. “Rub your pretty little clit against me, sweetheart. You feel how hard I am for you?”

“Uh huh,” Lea whined, leaning her head back as he unbuttoned the top buttons of her sweater.

“Loved how wet you got from my dick in your mouth, baby,” he growled. “Just wait till you feel what it’s like to have it in you, to get fucked nice and hard.”

He undid the rest of the buttons, revealing the pink satin of her bra and squeezing her breasts through it. “Oh, Tim,” she gasped out, arching into his hands.

“I know,” he murmured. “God, look at you. So needy. Can I have it, sweetheart? Will you let me have you?”

Lea nodded frantically, eager to take him inside her. Now that she knew he had feelings for her, too… well, how could she say no when she wanted him so desperately? “Want you,” she whined.

“I can feel how much you want me,” he chuckled, sliding her sweater from her shoulders. “You’ve soaked through your panties.” If she weren’t so turned on, this probably would’ve embarrassed her, but she didn’t have enough blood left in her brain for embarrassment. “Come to bed with me, baby. I’ll make you feel so good, take such good care of you.”

She rocked her hips again, stimulating her clit. “Yes, please.”

Tim picked her up and stood, and she squealed with delight, giggling and wrapping her arms around his neck. He strolled over to the foot of the bed and dropped her onto it. “Take your clothes off,” he murmured, his fixed on her breasts as he yanked his shirt over his head, followed by his sweatpants.

“You’re not wearing underwear,” she observed shakily.

“It would seem I’m not,” he agreed before observing, “Your clothes aren’t off yet.”

“R— right,” she muttered, swiftly undoing her bra and pulling it off, followed by her skirt and panties. Tossing them onto the floor, she glanced up at him, flushing at the blatant desire in his gaze.

“You’re un-fucking-real,” he growled, crawling over her and caging her body in with his. Leaning down on his forearms and cupping her face in his hands, he kissed her, pressing the length of his bare body against her own. “Perfect tits,” he murmured against her lips, squeezing her breasts momentarily before trailing a hand down between them to rub at her. “Perfect pussy.” 

He spread her legs with a gentle hand on her knees, and she leaned up to kiss him. She felt as if she’d die if he didn’t touch her, didn’t kiss her.

“Tim,” she manage to gasp out, “please, I want—“

“I know what you want,” he murmured, sucking another hickey into her neck. “I’ll give it to you, Lea, don’t you worry.” He rubbed her clit in slow circles for a few seconds before freezing. “Wait, fuck— lemme get a condom—“

“I don’t want you to use a condom,” she interjected hurriedly. “You’re— I mean, you get tested all the time, don’t you?”

Tim pushed himself off from her, examining her features. “Yeah, I do. Once a week.”

She licked her lips, stomach fluttering at the idea of him inside her, the two of them linked together without any barriers between them. “I’m on birth control,” Lea breathed. “Please, Tim. I want to… I want to feel you.”

“Fuck,” he grunted, jerking down to kiss her hungrily. “Anything you want, sweetheart.”

“I want you inside me,” she said into his mouth.

“Yes,” Tim groaned, sliding two long, slender fingers into her and curling them. “Let me just… let me get you ready for me, okay? Don’t wanna hurt you.”

“I don’t care if you hurt me,” she insisted, rolling her hips up into his hand. “Just— please—“

“I care if I hurt you, though,” he told her with a soft chuckle. “You’re a hell of a lot more than a quick fuck to me, y’know?” She tensed at that, but he continued. “You’re important to me, and I really, really like you.” He cupped her cheek with one of his hands. “Sex with you will be amazing, I know it will be, but it’s more than just sex to me, and I need you to know that. I need to know that it’s more than just sex to you, too.”

She smiled up at him. He could be so sweet. “Don’t be stupid. Of course it’s more than that to me.”

Tim kissed her then, groaning when she returned it and fisting a hand in her hair. She cupped the back of his head as he took her bottom lip between his teeth and gasped into his mouth when he resumed fingering her.

“Want you,” she begged. “Please, Tim, I want you so bad—“

“Fuckin’ hell, Lea,” he muttered, pulling his fingers out of her. “Are you sure you’re ready for me to—“

“Yes I’m sure,” she cut him off impatiently. “I am absolutely, positively, one thousand percent sure.”

“Okay, okay,” he conceded with an affectionate chuckle as he guided himself to her entrance. “God, you’re soaked.”

“You were just fingering me,” she pointed out, blushing.

“Mhm,” he confirmed, “and that was almost as hot as…” He paused, slipping the head of him inside her. “…This.” He groaned, burying his face in her neck. “Holy fucking— good god, Lea.” He slid further in until she gasped in discomfort, making him pause and lift his face up to examine her expression. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” she told him, wincing. “It just… stings.”

“We just need to get you used to it, baby,” he assured her gently, stroking her cheek. “It’ll get better once you’re used to it.”

“If you say so,” she muttered.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked.

Lea shook her head. “No, you can keep going.”

It took awhile, but eventually, he was fully seated inside her, panting against her neck with exertion. “Jesus Christ,” Tim gasped. “You feel so fucking good.”

“I— I do?” she asked, somewhat surprised. She wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting, exactly.

“You’re so tight,” he groaned, lifting himself up to kiss her hungrily. “Tell me when I can move, alright?”

“Go ahead,” she said with a slight nod.

He pulled out a bit, thrusting back in with a slow, controlled exhalation of breath. “How’s it feel?”

Lea considered this. “It feels… weird.”

“What do you mean?”

She furrowed her brow, trying to think of how to word it (which was no small feat when a guy she adored so much was literally inside her). “I feel… full. Stretched.”

He smirked. “Both of those words are accurate, yes.” He thrust again, the movement slow, gentle. “You’re full of me, and I’m stretching you out.” Another thrust, and it… it was starting to feel less uncomfortable. It was starting to feel good. She inhaled sharply, and he asked, “Any better?”

Nodding jerkily, Lea wrapped her arms around him and pulled him in close. “Don’t stop, please.”

“I won’t,” he promised, thrusting again. “Not unless you want me to. Do— do you like it?” 

Before she could answer, he thrust again, and she was certain it felt good that time. The feeling of fullness—of being stretched—was no longer uncomfortable, it was delicious, and she wanted more of it. “Y— yes,” she forced out in between gasps. “It feels… oh, fuck, just don’t stop—“

He kissed her, sliding his tongue into her mouth and grasping her hips firmly. His fingers dug into her skin, holding her against the mattress. It was almost as if his grip on her was him trying to ground himself, control his actions.

One of his hands slid up her side to squeeze her breast, rolling her nipple between his fingers, and she moaned into his mouth, trying to lift her pelvis to meet his. “Hold still,” he scolded teasingly, trailing kisses down the flushed column of throat. “Stop squirming.”

“I can’t,” Lea admitted, her voice practically a whine. “Feels so good, I can’t— god, Tim—“

“I know, sweetheart,” he reassured her with a hoarse chuckle. “You feel good, too.”

“Didn’t you say you wanted it—ah!—harder?”

Tim squeezed her breast again, twisting her nipple more roughly this time. “It’s your first time,” he explained, panting, “I gotta be gentle with you.”

“I don’t want you to be gentle,” she insisted. “I want you to show me what you like. Whatever you wanna do to me, that’s what I want.”

“Fuck,” he groaned, fisting a hand in her hair, the tug at her scalp stinging in a way she found more enjoyable than she probably should’ve. “God, you’re fuckin’ perfect. You sure you want it rougher?”

“Yes,” Lea said immediately. “Yes, please.” His achingly slow thrusts were beginning to drive her insane.

The hand in her hair tightened, and she inhaled sharply at the sensation. His other hand squeezed her hip as he pulled out of her, and when he pushed back in again, he slammed in.

She moaned loudly, her back arching off the mattress. Tim leaned down and caught her nipple in his mouth, pulling it gently between his teeth as he withdrew again, only to slam his hips back against hers. The abrupt movement made him release her nipple, his teeth scraping it in the process, which was a delicious mix of pleasure and pain.

“Rough enough for you?” he grunted out in between thrusts.

“Mhm,” she gasped, trailing her hands up his arms. He had more muscle than she would’ve expected or someone so skinny, but when he flexed, it was really quite pronounced.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he told her. “Touch me. I’m yours.”

Something about those words lit fire in her veins, and she smiled up at him in delight, only for the expression to be cut off when he thrust into her again. Trailing her fingertips along his collarbones, up his neck and across the sharp lines of his jaw, Lea relished in the way he leaned into her touch, turning his head so as to kiss her palm.

“Tim, I—“ She couldn’t finish her statement, because he’d slammed into her again, reaching down to grasp her hips firmly. This time, though, there was no contrast between his hold on her and the way he moved inside her. This time, his fingers dug into her, hurting just a little bit as he pressed his palms against her pelvis so as to hold her down, and it matched the rough pace he’d set perfectly. 

If it weren’t for his hold on her, she would’ve been scooting across the mattress, so it was probably a good thing, but when he held her down that way, it made her want to buck her hips up against his. She attempted to do so, but he was stronger than he looked. She couldn’t lift her pelvis.

“You take it so well, Lea,” he praised, his voice low and rough. “Take my cock so well, babydoll.” When she did nothing but whine and try to buck her hips again, he slammed into her punishingly with a dark chuckle. “Be good for me. Good little princess, taking my dick like this. You like getting fucked, don’t you?” Still, she could only whine in response, so he gripped her jaw firmly, leaning in to kiss her with a gentle slowness that was almost strange in contrast to how roughly he handled her. “You’d better tell me you like it when I fuck you if you don’t want me to stop,” he chided softly, his lips brushing hers.

Suddenly terrified that he would actually stop, she immediately forced out, “I like it when you fuck me.” The words were somewhat jumbled, her voice a bit raspy, but it seemed to do satisfy him.

“Good girl,” Tim praised, pounding into her. “Oh fuck, Lea, been dreaming about this pussy. Feels so fuckin’ good.”

The hand on her jaw migrated to her hair, and he yanked her head to the side so as to mouth wetly at her neck, scraping his teeth over the sensitive flesh. When he started working on another hickey, she threaded her fingers into his hair, holding him against her as he fucked her.

“More,” Lea whined, undulating her hips.

“If you want more,” he panted, “stop fuckin’ squirming.”

She barely registered the words, though; he felt too good inside her. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop, fuck that’s so good—“

“Greedy girl,” Tim growled, kissing one of the hickeys he’d given her. “Feel your pussy clenching around me, sweetheart, d’you wanna cum?”

“Yes,” she moaned. “I wanna cum, Tim, I wanna cum, please make me cum—“

“Hmmm,” he hummed, considering this as he propped himself up to examine her features. “You gonna be a good girl for me?”

Before he’d even finished the sentence, she was already nodding eagerly. “I’ll be good!” she promised. “I’ll be good for you, I swear, I’ll do anything you want!”

“All I want,” he told her, fucking her slower now, each thrust deep and hard, “is to fuck my fill of you whenever I feel like it.”

She nodded again. “Yes, yes, please—“

He eyed her breasts, squeezing them roughly with one hand. “Look at the way they bounce, Jesus fucking Christ,” he muttered.

“Tim,” she whined desperately, needing to cum so badly she felt as if she’d die. 

“You are greedy, aren’t you?” he smirked. “Alright, baby. I’ll make you cum.”

Nearly sobbing in relief when he reached between them, she moaned as he began to rub her clit in hard, fast circles. “God, Tim, I—“

“I know,” he crooned in her ear. “I know you’re gonna cum, sweetheart. You’re gonna cum all over my dick, aren’t you?”

“I want— I want you to cum, too,” she gasped out. “Want you to cum inside me.”

He chuckled. “I’ll bet you do, you dirty little girl. Gonna let me fill you up with my cum, huh?”

“Yessssss,” she hissed, her eyes fluttering as she neared her peak. “God, I’m close, I’m gonna—“

“That’s it, babydoll,” he growled. “Cum for me, sweetheart.”

She came, moaning his name desperately.

Tim slammed his hips against hers repeatedly, fucking her roughly before he finally groaned and collapsed atop her.

“How was it?” he panted against her neck several minutes later.

“Huh?” she asked, too dazed to think.

“Your first time,” he clarified. “How was it?”

“Oh.” She blinked, turning the words over in her head until she could actually process them. “It was amazing.”

Lea felt him smile against her skin.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” she confirmed, wrapping tired arms around him.

“Glad you enjoyed it, too, then.”

“Mmm,” she hummed sleepily.

“You tired, baby?” he asked gently, sweetly. 

“Mhm.”

“Lemme clean you up and then you can sleep, alright?” He stood, and she whined as he pulled out of her. He shushed her with a kiss to her forehead. “Let me clean you up a little real quick.”

“Mmkay.”

She let him maneuver her body around and clean between her legs until he was satisfied. When he rejoined her in bed, he took her in his arms and settled the covers over them.

She yawned, sleepily nuzzling in closer to him.

His arms tightened around her, and he pressed a kiss to her scalp.

She was out before she could formulate another coherent thought.

Tag list

@ellamaianderson @shika1200 @blackqueenstarseed1 @gatoenlaciudad @esmaada @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @softhecreator @timolaurence @timmymyluv @oddlyenoughiamweird @leecrunchybones @s-we-e-t-t-ea @almostg @leespparker @bubblebuttwade @glizzymcguirex @starberry-cake

To be added, please ask 💗

[andguesswhat]

Okay, why the hell not? For the Dune promo, my head had come up with a story about Jack without asking, for various reasons though it never made it completely onto paper.

But now that it's Jack's birthday... I thought maybe I'd just post the beginning as a birthday present… lol

But don’t worry, Jack, it’s rather harmless, I would say.

The shield that you own

*

Jack grabbed Tim under the arms to hold him better. Even though Tim was as light as a feather, they were all uncontrollably heavy when drunk. Tim giggled at the contact, his head falling heavily onto Jack's shoulder.

"What kind of bodyguard are you? ... Are you trying to tickle me to death? You should know by now that I'm ticklish!" Tim's voice was slurred and mumbling and the tone became childish and provocative, when he continued, "You could carry me...?"

Without responding, Jack dragged Tim further through the hotel room door, half supporting, half pulling, under his arm, around his waist, just where his balance was giving way, while trying not to lose Tim’s jacket that he already had taken off. Of course, he could have carried him instead, this skinny little creature who was nevertheless lighter when drunk than some when sober, but there was more than one reason to avoid it.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tim curl his lips into an exaggerated pout. "You're never any fun, Jack!"

Jack raised his eyebrows as if to say "Really?" but ignored Tim's comment apart from that as well as Tim's far-too-close lips, from which a whiff of tequila emanated, and concentrated instead on getting Tim to the bed.

They were in Mexico city, a huge premiere of Dune 2 in this huge city had just taken place this evening and the after party hadn't been wild, but it had apparently been enough to make Tim giggle uncontrollably. Sometimes it didn't take much for the adulation of the masses to get him drunk. First the senses were hyped, wide smile, wide eyes, wide talk, than followed giddy drunkenness.

At the bed, Jack let go of Tim so he could fall onto the bed, but Tim didn't let go of him, so Jack toppled over with him. He tried to catch himself with his hands, but he couldn't catch his whole body, so his face brushed Tim's cheek and his nose buried deep down in those god damn dark curls.

Tim giggled beneath him. And Jack decided to give himself a millisecond. They were familiar with each other, very familiar, also physically, and yet this closeness always did something to him.

The soft tickle of the curls on his skin and the smell of Jamie's hair styling products in his nose made Jack close his eyes for another millisecond.

Then the two milliseconds were over and he sat up again, ignoring the vague tugging in his body, heart as loins, instead lifted Tim's legs onto the bed and set about removing his boots while Tim rolled on the bed and grumbled like a drunken teen.

It wasn't that often that Tim got drunk, but it wasn't the first time either. Jack knew Tim liked the buzz, even if he was too worried to indulge in it too often.

In a fit of energy Tim humped the bed, “Goddd… Austin was looking sex-ayyy tonight, right? Wanted to fuck him right there.”

Jack ignored the comment, pulled on the second boot and placed it next to the bed.

Tim lifted his head and looked at him, "I can't believe you put them on the floor, instead of just letting them fall!" He sounded somehow shocked, admiring and teasing at the same time.

Jack laughed. He liked it when Tim made fun of him, it was always... affectionate.

But then Tim closed his eyes again and Jack could see the buzz working in his head. He let his gaze linger on Tim's face.

The face of an innocent angel. He resisted the impulse to brush a curl of hair from this face. The angel was not meant for him.

It was time to go.

Jack adjusted his jacket, "Do you need anything?" With the last of his strength, Tim straightened up, grabbed Jack's arm and pulled him onto the bed so that Jack ended up lying next to him. "Don't go," Tim's breath hitched against Jack’s face. Again Jack closed his eyes for a moment. He had been so determined that it wouldn't happen again and now he had to admit to himself that he had only deceived himself.

For a while they just lay there, Tim breathing, searching his way through the grogginess, Jack watching him, feeling the gentle ripples of air on his face with every breath Tim took…

When Tim's head carousel seemed to slow down a little, Tim laid his hands on Jack's face. "It was awesome, wasn't it?" His eyes opened briefly before closing again. "All those crowds..." Yes, the fans, the crowds, the masses... Tim loved that. Bathing in the crowd, being admired by the masses. The crowd electrified him, turned him on. Made him horny. And now the thought of it was apparently enough to reawaken his sex drive.

Tim rubbed his crotch lightly against Jack's thigh. An audible gasp.

Jack bit his lower lip. Then another rub.

Tim's breathing a little louder this time, Tim's cock noticeably harder.

The desire spread through Tim's tired body, waking him up, making him more alert and horny by the second until it finally took over. Tim swung himself over Jack, propped himself up with his hands to the right and left of Jack, his head lowered, his curls in free fall, and looked at him with a glazed expression. He looked so beautiful, so hot. Jack couldn't say it any other way. It wasn't his fault he was getting weak. Tim lowered his pelvis, rubbing against his, pressing their hard cocks together. Almost automatically Jack went to Tim's cock, squeezed it through his pants and Tim groaned. Jack knew what this was all about, what Tim wanted. And even if Jack didn't necessarily want to admit it to himself, he wanted nothing more than to fulfill Tim's wish. Tim humped into Jack's hand, moaning, and Jack's fingers eventually found their way into his pants, under his underpants, feeling the warmth, the soft skin, and wrapped around Tim's hard cock as Tim's moans vibrated louder and louder through his body. Tim's glazed look was both present and absent. As if he wanted to take Jack back there to the masses again. They had both experienced it, had both been there, how the crowds had loved Tim, had wanted him. If it had been up to them, they would have all wanted to touch him, grab him, tear his clothes off, and if it had been up to Tim, Tim would have wanted that too, to feel that love, on his body, hands on his bare and naked skin, fingers reaching for him, digging into his flesh, mouths kissing and tongues licking every inch of him, wanting him, loving him, bringing him to climax. Jack was sure Tim was having sex with all those people in his head right then when Jack pumped him hard, Tim’s gaze dark, his lips moist. It didn't take long now, Tim was exhausted, this wasn't about maximizing pleasure, about extensive sex. What had built up had to come out. Jack felt the hard cock twitch, smelled the sex already, and Tim came with a loud moan. "Ahh!" The cum was warm and sticky on Jack's fingers. Jack knew what it tasted like. Tim dropped down close to Jack and again the damn curls tickled Jack's nose. Tim reached tiredly and lazily for Jack's cock.

It wasn't half-hearted, but it was far from promising either. "You don't need to-" Jack said. "No, I don't want you -" "No, it's okay." Tim rubbed his nose tiredly against Jack's shoulder. "Sure?" "Yeah..." "I'll make it good for you another time, okay?" Jack laughed softly. Tim snuggled up to him. "Sorry, I stained your suit." "It's okay." It wasn't the first time. Jack tried to straighten up. "But I should go now." Tim's heavy arm across him stopped him. "No… Don't be stupid." Jack took a deep breath, for a while wondering if he should insist. For his own self, which would only nag him again tomorrow.

But he was pretty inept at letting Tim down. Always had been. "Can I at least take my jacket off?" He tried to take it lightly. "Yeah sorry..." Tim took his arm away. Jack took off his jacket, half rose from the bed to throw it over the back of the chair, took off his shoes and deliberately dropped them on the floor. Tim chuckled with half-closed eyes. "Good for you!" Jack smiled, albeit a little melancholically, and lay back down in bed a little away from Tim, but Tim immediately moved and cuddled up to him. "Did you see the girl who wanted the tattoo and what I wrote?" Tim asked quietly and dreamily. "Of course." Tim always wanted Jack to hear everything funny he said or did. "Man, I was shaking so much..." Yes, Jack had noticed that.

It was always fascinating to Jack that some things never changed. Of course, Tim was an old hand on the red carpet by now, and even if he knew by now how to hide it very well, the crowds not only electrified him, they also still intimidated him as hell. "I felt you behind me," Tim whispered quietly. "You know when I leaned up to that fan? You stepped up, too. I was so glad that I had you in my back." "It's my job."

"You took care of me."

Tim looked Jack deep into his eyes, not drunk, but not sober either, and gently pressed his lips to Jack's. "I couldn't do any of this without you, you know that, right?" Jack held his breath, looked at Tim, although he wanted nothing else than to close his eyes.

And he didn't know if he hated Tim more for saying that, or himself for wanting to believe it. ***

[lex-the-flex]

This account is now gonna be a Luke Skywalker, Leon Kennedy, Morpheus, Paul Atreides, and Timothée Chalamet stan blog.

The MCU and the related hashtags about certain actors are getting so ridiculous that I’m going to write for the MCU and my favorite characters on my OWN time.

I’m a 23 year old adult who’s absolutely sick and tired of hearing about teenagers turn into communication majors just to drag us down.

The MCU is turning into the Star Wars community. (Which is why I left the SW community after 2019) Get a life people.

@dreamliners

@acupnoodle

@visionsofsweettea

@maybeimart

@ell0ra-br3kk3r

@night-n-sky

@bonky-n-steeb

@sunflowergurl98

@callmemoonlight123

@awkwardharpy

@ladyrebel25

@myevilmouse

@tatooineknights

@princessismx

@princechalamet

[babyflorencee]

Books, pillow talks, and an attention-craving boy

Timothée Chalamet x fem!Reader

I was engrossed in 'If We Were Villains," by M. L. Rio, when I heard the door to mine and my boyfriend, Timothée's shared bedroom creak open—just enough for him to peak in. "Hi love," he chimed, entering the room and settling down beside me.

Despite knowing that Tim was there, my eyes remained glued to the page. "Hey," I murmured, too absorbed in the book to feign enthusiasm.

"What are you reading?" He inquired, shifting to lay down directly on top of me, harshly pressing his face into my stomach.

I awkwardly folded the book so that he could see the cover, prompting him to nod in acknowledgement once he read the title.

For about 20 minutes, Tim tried everything he could to divert my attention away from my book and onto him. But once he realized my unwavering focus on the book, he started to grow bored. With a dramatic sigh, he got up, slamming the door shut.

I flinched a little at the sound, but overall I didn't think too much of it as I continued to read, since I was nearing the end. After I read it from front to back, I closed the book, setting it down on my nightstand, before getting up to go look for Tim.

As I descended the stairs, I noticed an unusual quietness, contrary to Timothée's usual ruckus. Muffled talking reached my ears as I entered the living room, finding Tim asleep on the couch with our old, beaten-up radio softly playing in the background.

I walked over to him, waking him up with a gentle shake; he let out a groan, slowly opening his eyes, before asking, "What do you want?" with a hint of sass.

"I want to cuddle," I whispered, reaching my arms out to him, repeatedly making a grabby hand motion, while giving him my best puppy dog eyes.

"Oh so now you want to give me attention," he said, rolling his eyes and turning away from me.

"Timmy," I whined, sitting beside him and pressing my head into his neck, placing a few light kisses there as a way to convince him to cuddle with me.

When he didn't respond, I pressed my mouth against his ear, whispering, "Please baby," while rubbing small circles on his back.

After a moment of faux contemplation, he smiled, lazily pulling me on top of him, before shifting so that I was under him. Once we both got comfortable, he wrapped his arms around my waist, nuzzling his head into my neck, gently sucking on the skin there, causing me to bite back a moan from the sensation he was giving me. "Goodnight, mon amour," he said with a smirk, momentarily lifting his head up to press a kiss on my forehead before returning his face back to my neck.

"Night night," I sleepily replied, wrapping my arms and legs around him, pulling him as close to me as possible.

[kteezy997]

I neeeed something with Timmy being a jealous ex with smut

the ex boyfriend//t.c.

Warnings: drinking alcohol, cursing, jealous Timmy, smut, sex in a car, dirty talk, possessive Timmy

It had been a month since you and Timmy broke up for good after being together for three years. You had really believed that he was the one, that you would be married and have kids with him. But his career had really boomed in the last year, and he was busier than ever. You seemed to fade from his mind in the process.

But that was the past, and you needed to start seeing other people, to help take your mind off your ex. So, your friend so kindly introduced you to a friend of her boyfriend's. His name was Owen, and you had texted for a few days and facetimed twice, and he asked you out for a couple of drinks. He was cute and sweet, and you were excited to get to know someone new, so you said yes.

You had picked out a cute outfit, did your hair and makeup. You had almost forgotten how fun it was to have a reason to get all dressed up. Timmy would always compliment your outfits and your hair, and it made you feel so confident when you were with him.

Owen was so polite in person and hugged you when you arrived outside of the bar. He then opened the door for you and you both walked in. You idly scanned over the room for a table or a pair of seats at the bar. And your heart dropped to your stomach as you saw the brown, messy waves on Timmy's head. As if on cue, he looked up and you made eye contact. Your heart ached seeing those green eyes. You looked away immediately.

"Hey, something wrong?" Owen asked, noticing your odd behavior.

"Uh, oh god, I'm sorry. It's just... my ex is here. We broke up a month ago."

"Oh, did you want to leave?"

"No, no," you shook your head, "it's fine. He already saw me. Let's just sit on the other side of the bar."

.....

You had sat down, gotten a round of drinks and Owen asked about your job, so you told him all about it. Then, he told you about his job working in marketing for a beer company.

The more you talked with him, you realized that he really liked to drink alcohol and party, which really wasn't that attractive to you, not at your age. But you were kind, continued to sip your drink and nod along to whatever he was saying.

As the waiter came over and Owen ordered more drinks, you noticed someone walking over to your table. You knew exactly who it was. No matter how crowded a place may be, you would always be able to pick out Timmy. Part of you was excited to see him, even more so considering how boring this date had turned out to be.

"Y/n." Timmy nodded, approaching your table, "Sorry I don't want to intrude. Just wanted to say hi, and see how you were doing."

"Ah, is this the dreaded ex?" Owen teased.

"Owen, this is Timothee." you said, looking at each of them as you said your names. You felt awkward, as you had never been in this position before.

"You got a new boyfriend already?" Timmy asked spitefully.

"No," you rolled your eyes, "it's a first date. Don't act like you've remained pure and chaste since we broke up, Timmy."

He shrugged, "I have been."

You scoffed, "Okay, whatever."

"I have! I'm sorry for being a dick..."

"I don't care." you grumbled, "I'm on a date, can we not do this now? Or ever?"

"You're saying you never want to talk to me again?" he seemed genuinely hurt by the thought.

"Hey buddy, just fuck off, like she wants you to." Owen piped up.

You and Timmy both glared at him, "You don't have to talk to him like that. And I can take care of this myself, Owen, thank you."

Owen chuckled in annoyance, "Okay, well you can make pretty boy disappear while I'm in the bathroom. I'll be right back."

As your date left the table, you looked at your ex.

Timmy spoke up as soon as the other man was out of earshot. "What the hell are you doing going out with that guy? Seems like an asshole to me."

"Well, you just don't know him." you said.

"Oh, and you do?"

"Yeah." you lied. You could see the fury in Timmy's eyes and his nostrils flaring.

"Well, he should have better manners. He needs to treat you better."

"Timothee, how would you react if your date's ex-boyfriend popped in on you? I don't think you'd handle it well either."

"I would have some respect, or at least some common decency. Which Owen does not seem to have."

You put your hands up, "Okay, I'm tired of this conversation. I think you just need to leave before Owen comes back."

“Yeah,” Timmy looked down, “yeah, I’m sorry. Listen, this guy obviously cares more about his beer than you, so if you want, I’ll be waiting for you in my car outside. I’d love it if you met me out there.”

“You want me to ditch my date for you?”

He shrugged, “Yeah, kinda.” he smirked. “Even if you don’t, it was good to see you.” he smiled sweetly, giving you a nod before he walked away.

You watched Timmy leave, not even noticing Owen return to the table.

“Thank God, he’s gone. What a douchebag.” he scoffed, grabbing his beer mug and taking a big swig of it.

“No,” you countered, “he’s really not. Just cause he’s an ex doesn’t make him an asshole.”

“Okay. Whatever.” he said, trying to seem unfazed, “Want another drink?”

"No, I don't think I do. I'm going to go. Thank you for the date, but I don't think this is going to go anywhere, Owen. Goodbye."

He laughed smugly, "Whatever, you're no fun anyway." He took another long gulp of his beer, not even looking in your direction.

You just rolled your eyes and walked out of the bar.

.......

Like a magnet, you were drawn to Timothee's car in the parking lot. You were curious about what he wanted from you. You missed him. You missed everything about your relationship: how safe and warm you felt with him.

You walked up seeing him nursing an orange Gatorade bottle. He was sitting in the car with the door open.

He heard your footsteps and looked up at you with a happy little grin. "Hey, I thought you weren't gonna come."

“Yeah well, I guess you thought wrong.” you crossed your feet where you stood, "So, why did you want me to come here, Timothee?"

"Because I miss you, y/n, and I hated seeing you with that idiot in there."

"Oh, just jealousy then?" you crossed your arms.

"I mean, yeah." he stood up, "You’re my girl, you have been since I met you. Nothing feels right without you, and I can’t stand the thought of someone else having you.” You noticed his jawline twitched. His eyes were dark when he spoke.

“Hmm, what are you gonna do about it?”

Timmy’s eyes widened some and his lips turned up into a grin. He nodded toward the car, “Get in.”

……

You both hopped into the back seat of his car, which was luckily a spacious full-size SUV. You were making out with him like you were a couple of wild animals in mating season.

“I was not expecting this to happen tonight.” he said with a chuckle as he took your face in his hand.

“Me neither. I’ve missed you so much, Timmy.” you said in a breathy pant.

“I’ve missed you.” he said, leaning in to kiss your neck, “I’ve missed your skin.” he moved to the other side of your neck, sucking there a moment. You felt his hands on your back, “And the way you feel in my arms.” He inhaled, and you knew he was taking in your perfume, like a dose of medicine to heal something inside of him, “I’ve been dying without your scent,” then returning to kiss your mouth, he said, “and your lips.” He moaned into the kiss. “I’ve missed everything. It’s true, I haven’t been with anyone else. Just working, and thinking about you, y/n.”

He was making you more needy by the syllable. You trembled with anticipation. You put your hands on either side of his head, combing the curls back with your fingers. You looked in his eyes, his pupils were overtaking his green irises. “I want you.” you said softly.

Timmy then unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, and you looked down to see his cock already hard for you and leaking with precum. You missed seeing it. His cock was perfect.

He sat back and you straddled his lap, pulling your panties to the side. You settled onto him, allowing his length to fill you up. “Uhh.” you whimpered, closing your eyes as you felt the pressure inside you.

He wrapped his arms around you as you started to bob your hips up and down. “Fuck yeah. Owen doesn’t deserve this feeling. It’s my privilege and mine alone.”

You grabbed his face, smashing your lips against his. You moved your hips faster and faster. The enclosed space of the car made your noises almost bounce off of each other and amplify.

"Mm, yes, fuck me, baby." Timmy cooed, pressing his hands onto your ass.

You let out a whimper, sloppily grinding against him. "Fuck, this is so good." you cried.

After a moment, he made you stop so he could lay you on your side. Your face was pressed onto the leather seat. Now with your bodies perpendicular, he entered you, holding onto your thigh.

"Ahhh." you moaned. The sensation was a little painful in this position at first. But the faster he fucked you, the more wet you became, and it was easier for him to slide in and out.

Within a few more minutes, Timmy leaned down onto your body, slipped his arm between your breasts and his hand clamped onto your shoulder. You were face-to-face, he was kissing your cheek, and you were both sweating. Your hair stuck to your neck because of the dampness.

"Owen will never get this feeling, not with my girl." He continued to slam his hips into your ass, with damp smacking sounds.

It was all so much, so intense, you were forced to come around his cock.

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @lixzey @bitchyunknownuser @ducktapebar @aoi-targaryen @yukideadinside @elloise0 @thatoneweirdgirl17 @mel-vaz @sammy-halpert @iwishchalamet @that-one-fangirl69 @jindongdongie @briefkittenearthquake

[lixzey]

The Unknown Number

A/N: ignore the time stamps 😆 i know, i know, but it's literally 2am when i edited this and i can't edit the time 😔

warnings: none? just that reader is italian and a lil bit of peach dissing [if you know, you know]

You were bored.

You were sitting alone in your hotel room, plans foiled by a stormy day, waiting for some miracle to happen. You were supposed to enjoy a beautiful day in New York; you had just arrived last night from Italy for a three-week vacation in America. You have planned this trip for so long. Originally,  your best friend Hailey was supposed to come along, but her family needed to go to Germany to visit her sick grandmother. Hailey had urged you to go on with the trip, practically forcing you to go to the airport and live your dream—the American dream you've been dreaming of since you were a little girl—and just enjoy, even without her.

You agreed, of course. You've been dreaming of coming to New York ever since you were eight; you weren't going to pass off the opportunity to fly to the place where your mother came from. Your mother left when you were eight—she died of cancer. As a little girl, you'd listen excitedly when your mother told you stories about her hometown. She painted such a vivid picture of New York City that you felt like you knew it like the back of your hand, even though you'd never been there. And now, here you were, sitting in a hotel room with nothing to do.

As you stared out the rain-streaked window, you sighed, feeling sorry for yourself and wishing Hailey was there with you. This was not how you had envisioned starting your vacation in the big city. You had been looking forward to exploring Central Park, visiting museums, and trying out all the famous New York food with Hailey. It just wasn’t the same without her. 

You took a deep breath, grabbing your phone from the nightstand beside you and deciding to scroll on Instagram to ease your boredom. As you mindlessly scrolled through your feed, something caught your eye—an advertisement for Wonka.

“Oh, I almost forgot about this,” you muttered to yourself, tapping twice on the post.

You have been a fan of Timothée Chalamet for less than a year. Hailey had been the one who introduced you to the young actor, and to your surprise, you were the same age as him. The first movie of his you’ve ever watched was Little Women, and you've loved him ever since.

You've been obsessing over his films like Dune and The King, loving every shot of him and admiring his beauty and talent. When you watched the trailer for Wonka, it was surreal to see him in such an unserious manner. Singing and dreaming about chocolate in his infamous purple coat.  

Continuing to scroll down your feed, you began seeing more of him, fan interactions, the red carpet, and movie promos. God, he's beautiful, you thought, moving to screenshot every photo you scrolled by. Mindlessly switching to Tiktok, where you see numerous edits of Tim on his premieres looking absolutely stunning in his colorful suits, left you imagining what else would be peeking under his jacket.

 “Is there anything you won't do for fashion?”

“Oh man, yeah, do it for the fashion.”

I’d do anything for you, all for you. You thought as you kept on scrolling some more to see character edits, ship edits—which you hated—thrist edits, and so much more that you couldn’t save anymore because you were running low on storage.

You sighed, closing the app, tossing your phone to the side, and plopping on the bed. This isn’t the American dream. You were supposed to be out, exploring New York, getting a sense of nostalgia from all of the stories your mother had told you years ago. But no, you were stuck in a hotel, scrolling through all of your social media feeds. God knows how many times you’ve scrolled through instagram and tiktok. You should be walking down Fifth Avenue, shopping and taking in the sights, eating hotdogs and pizzas as you walk through Central Park—maybe even running into a celebrity, hopefully Timothée Chalamet—not just stuck inside your hotel room moping.

What I’d give to have a moment with Timmy. 

Personally, you’d give the whole world just one minute with him. But you can’t help but wonder: What would any of Timmy’s fans give to just have one moment with him? Probably the same as you, but every person is different.

You grabbed your phone again, opening Instagram. As soon as the app opened, Timothée’s newest post greeted you.

He looked so effortlessly handsome, and it made the butterflies in your stomach flutter like crazy. You wished to be in Kylie Jenner’s place, but you could never be her. You’re just this plain girl that he would never even take a second glance at. You didn’t have a famous family, you didn’t have tons of fans, you didn’t have a successful makeup brand, and it’s sure as hell that you didn’t have a model body and a perfect face. You’re just a normal Italian girl with flaws. You had a belly, stretch marks, dark bags under your eyes from staying up late, cellulite, big arms, and acne scars from your youth. You were far from the girls he’d ever want. But you still love him nonetheless, even if you could only love him from afar. 

Tapping on his profile, you clicked on the message button. It was the only thing you could do—message him every once in a while. You wondered how many girls would freak out if Timothée Chalamet messaged them. It was a long shot, but if it ever happened to you, it was sure as fuck that you’d be either crying of happiness or faint. There’s no in-between, honestly. 

Suddenly, an idea popped into your head. 

Text random numbers and pretend to be Timothée Chalamet. 

It was a bad idea, sure, but when have you ever thought before doing shit? It’s only some harmless fun, right? You knew if you asked Hailey, she’d support you; no questions asked. So, there isn’t anyone else who’d tell you it’s a bad idea.

You opened your IMessage app, deciding to go with your stupid idea. 

“Here goes nothing.” you muttered, typing in the number Hailey gave.

You laid on your stomach, typing in a random greeting message, stifling your laughter before tapping the send button. “Sent.”

You couldn't stop laughing, you were honestly enjoying this even though it was wrong to catfish people. You were bored, this was the only thing that gave you smiles as the storm outside raged on.

You tried to stop laughing so you could type in a message for your next prank victim, failing miserably. You tossed your phone to the side, clutching your stomach as you let all of your laughter out of your body. It was absolutely funny to see people’s reactions, knowing all too well that you aren’t the real Timothée, and just riding along with your shit.

After a few minutes of laughing, you finally regained your composure. “Alright, onto the next.”

@helens3amstuff @gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @lovemelikecrazyiloveyoucrazy @tchalamss @ashlynnmalfoy @crazycat-ladys-blog @michakune @mxltifxnd0m @spencerr3idd @dangelnleif @sthkate @ferrjulie @imnotoverlyobsessive @mel-vaz @elsagreeer @lovely-maryj @meowmeowmau @bobthe-turmpetman29 @saintcosette @ashisabitgay @ladyladybuggg @nyrasunderwrld @remussbitch @jadahxx @starrystormwritings @ell0ra-br3kk3r @dreary-salem @drewsandsebastianswife @greenapplegrass @lilianelena39 @haybellewrites @cloudlst @si4a @ev3ningrain @ttulipwritezz @lilmaymayy @bullets-from-another-dimension @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader @reg-arcturus-black @marina468 @3stelar @timhalamet @st4rf00k3r @idli-dosa @jimins15thhair @blacksgarden

[isaacarellanesismyhusband]

sleep well

pair: Timothée Chalamet x reader

summery: y/n(she/her) takes care of Timmy after a long day

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Timothée had spent the entire day filming, running on little sleep and endless coffee. As he finally pushed open the door to his apartment late that night, the weight of exhaustion hit him all at once. His shoulders slumped, and he let out a deep sigh, the kind that came from both physical and emotional fatigue.

"Hey, you're home," you called out from the kitchen, your voice a soothing balm against his tiredness. You walked over to him, wrapping your arms around him in a warm embrace. "How was your day?"

"Long," he replied, his voice a soft murmur against your shoulder. You could feel his weariness through the way he clung to you. "Let's get you settled," you said, gently guiding him to the kitchen. You had prepared a simple meal—something comforting and easy. As he sank into a chair, you placed a steaming bowl of soup in front of him, followed by some fresh bread.

"You made this?" he asked, lifting his gaze to you with a grateful smile.

"Of course," you said, giving him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Eat up. You need to refuel."

He ate slowly, savoring each bite. Once he finished, you took his hand and led him to the bathroom. "Alright, time for a shower," you said, turning on the water. You handed him a towel and some shampoo, guiding him through the routine. "I’m too tired for this," he murmured, looking at you with tired eyes.

"You've got this," you said softly, brushing a stray strand of hair from his face. "I'll be right here if you need me."

As he showered, you prepared his bedroom, setting out clean pajamas and fluffing the pillows. When he finally emerged, wrapped in a towel, you helped him change into comfortable clothes. "Alright, all set," you said, giving him a gentle nudge towards the bed. "Teeth brushed and then it's sleep time."

He managed to brush his teeth and then, finally, sank into the bed with a relieved sigh. You settled next to him, pulling him close. "Come here," you whispered, wrapping your arms around him as he rested his head on your chest. His arms found their way around you, holding you close.

You played with his hair, your fingers running gently through the soft strands. His breathing soon evened out, and his body relaxed completely. "Sleep well," you murmured, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. He let out a content sigh and nestled closer to you, drifting off into a peaceful sleep.

[roxygen22]

Still Here (Chapter 13)

Series Finale

Summary: The happy ending I promised you! Timothée proposes.

C/W: mention of deadbeat dad

Catch up on previous chapters here.

>>six weeks after Christmas<<

"So I got a call today." Timothée announced at dinner with you, Madison, and your parents. "One of my investors wants me to open a furniture store in Kentucky. I'm going to go check out a spot next week."

"Oh, that's wonderful, Timothée!" your mother cheered. Your dad shared similar (but calmer) sentiments. You, on the other hand, bounced up and down in your seat and then kissed him on the cheek.

"I'm so proud of you!" you said gleefully. Your excitement quickly stalled, though, when you looked over at Madison, who just stared down at her plate. She set down her utensils and pushed herself away from the table. Next thing you knew, you heard the front door slam shut. You looked at Timothée wide-eyed.

"What was that about?" he asked. You shrugged. Her reaction came out of left field. You both stood to go check on her. You expected to find her in her usual spot on the porch swing, but she was nowhere in sight. Your heart rate rose in slight panic as you looked out from the porch and saw nothing but darkness.

"Madison?!" you cupped your hands and yelled as you scanned the yard.

Timothée walked toward his truck and spotted the girl's blonde hair over the top of the seat. He caught your attention with a wave and pointed to the passenger side. You nodded in acknowledgment. Unsure what to do with yourself, you sat on the top porch step to stay close just in case you were needed.

Madison was sitting in the passenger seat with her arms crossed, staring out the front window. She cut her eyes at Timothée and glared as he climbed in on the driver's side.

"I had a feeling I'd find you here," he said softly.

"Go away. That's what you're good at," she snipped.

Timothée recoiled from her words as he reached for the door to shut it behind him. "What? I don't under-"

She turned to him and shouted, "You...you said you loved us! Now you're going away and I won't get to see you anymore," her eyes dropped, "just like I don't see my dad. He doesn't come to visit or ask me to come. He doesn't even call much anymore. You're going to forget me like he did. And hurt my mom."

Timothée's brows furrowed in confusion. "Madison, I'm not-"

"You JUST said you have to go to Kentucky!" she interrupted accusingly. Her breathing hitched and she started bawling. Timothée froze in shock, taking a couple of moments to realize Madison thought he was moving away.

"Oh- oh, kiddo, no no no." He draped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her to his chest. He rested his cheek on the top of her head. "I will have a new shop in Kentucky, but I will only have to go there every once in a while."

"Y- you're not leaving?" Madison asked, voice stilted by involuntary gasps. She pulled back to look at him.

Timothée shook his head. "I'm so sorry you thought that's what I meant. I'm not going anywhere, certainly not without you and your mother."

"Oh." She ducked her head in embarrassment.

He pulled her in for a big squeeze again. "I could never forget you, not in a million years. I can't answer why your father acts the way he does. Sounds like he still has some things he needs to work through. But I know it has absolutely nothing to do with you. You are a beautiful, amazing, kind human being who deserves all the love in the world. Same for your mother."

He felt her nod against his shoulder and reach up with her small hand to wipe her cheek.

"In fact," he paused and looked around. "Can I tell you a secret?" Madison looked up at him and nodded. "I have been wanting to ask your mother to marry me, but I wanted to see how you feel about it first."

She quickly pushed herself upright and placed both hands over her mouth in surprise. "Really?!"

"I know it may seem quick, but I have loved her for practically as long as I can remember. And you, missy," he said through his teeth as he poked her ticklish spot on her side, which induced the desired giggles. "I've had a soft spot for you ever since I met you."

After Madison's laughing died down, she sat silent for a few moments in thought. "Would that make you my dad?" she asked timidly as she looked up at him through her eyelashes.

"Well, you already have a father. And I'm not trying to step in and replace him. But," he paused to cup the back of her head with his large hand, "I already love you like you are my daughter. And that won't change even if your mother says no."

She nodded, brows scrunching before her face lit up with a smile. "I- I love you, too. You'd be like...like a bonus dad!" She leaned over to rest her head on his shoulder and sighed contentedly. The two stayed that way for a bit before Madison broke the silence again.

"She won't say no. When are you going to ask her?"

"I'm not sure, though I should probably do it soon so you don't have to keep it secret for long."

"I can handle it!" she exclaimed as she pushed herself away from him.

Timothée laughed and held his finger up to his mouth. "Shh! I'm sure you can. Got any ideas?"

Madison rested her thumb and index finger on her chin in contemplation. "Actually, I do."

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You steered the cart through the grocery store, frequently checking your list and grumbling to yourself about prices going up.

"Mom, I'm going to the cereal aisle," you heard Madison announce.

"Okay, I'll meet you over there in just a minute," you called back. You grabbed a couple more items from the baking aisle, then strolled around the corner to find her.

And find her you did, standing next to Timothée. He looked quite handsome in his nice button-down shirt, jeans, and boots. As always, his presence brought a smile to your face.

"Oh, hey! What are you do-" you started to question, but you were cut short when he dropped to one knee. You gasped and covered your mouth.

"The last time I was on this aisle with you," he started, "my heart skipped a beat. I thought I was dreaming. I thought there was no way, after all of these years, that I was seeing my [Y/N], the girl I thought I had lost for good because I wasn't brave enough to follow her when she asked. I know what life is like without you, and I never plan on letting you go again, if you'll have me."

He brought out a handcarved wooden box and opened it to reveal the most beautiful ring you had ever seen. You looked over at Madison, who was beaming up at you. She nodded at you to show her support. With a watery smile, you looked back at Timothée and squeaked out a "yes."

The three of you were oblivious to the crowd that had gathered around you. You startled when they began to cheer. Timothée launched himself up from his position on one knee and captured your face in his hands to kiss you. He then took your left hand in his and slid the ring onto your finger.

"I knew she'd say yes!" Madison cheered.

You pulled her to your side for a hug. "You were in on this?" you asked tearily.

"Yep!" She looked up at Timothée. "Told you I could keep a secret!"

"I didn't doubt you for a second, kiddo." He looked back at you and squeezed your hand. "Ready to tackle forever?"

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